For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
I’ve been sharing this with people and it seems to touch them so I’m sharing it with you too.
I think I was always meant to live in my current space for a short period of time. When I first moved in my mom came down to help me get settled (bless her). We went to every big box store and thrift store around searching for things I would need to make my space more comfortable. Stuff like a standing lamp. We searched everywhere and couldn’t find one. In fact, the closest we came was a lamp at Goodwill that after the employee plugged it in, sparked and gave him an electric shock.
Instead of a standing lamp I’m using this paper lantern, which I had in my closet, so another instance of being taken care of in advance!
I think higher power created a block so I wouldn’t invest in my living space, in this case monetarily. I think I was prevented from finding the more expensive things I needed for this spot in particular because I was never meant to be here long.
When things don’t go my way I rail against the universe, stew in frustration, and think the whole world is against me. I’m seeing, yet again, that perhaps when things don’t go my way, it’s because they’re not supposed to. That actually, even I’m not supposed to go that way. That’s not to say moving in here was a mistake – it wasn’t – but clearly, this is a short-term fling.
Some things require hard work and patience, but I’m starting to see when there’s one road block after another, when the universe keeps putting up signs that say, “Stop. Don’t go this way,” maybe it’s because it’s better for me to not go that way! That not all obstacles are meant to be overcome. That some obstacles are the universe’s way of taking care of me.
I’m focusing on housing in this post, but I think the concept applies to other things too – jobs, relationships, opportunities. Maybe when there’s one obstacle after another after another, higher power is saying, “Turn around.” And maybe when we’re not allowed to invest financially or emotionally it’s because it’s better if we don’t. I can only imagine how angry and bitter I would feel if my landlady blew up at me and asked me to move out after I spent a lot of money fixing my place up and unpacked everything. At the moment, some of my stuff is still in boxes and there are no pictures on the walls. Not to mention, I saved almost all of my moving boxes so obviously on some level I knew this was coming. And even though I don’t enjoy this turn of events, I can still sit back and see how I’m taken care of in advance.
I dream of a world where we understand some obstacles are for our benefit. A world where we realize not every obstacle is meant to be overcome. A world where we understand sometimes things don’t work out and it’s for our own good. A world where we see we’re taken care of in advance.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A band I like, the Downer Party, has a lyric from “Cities” that says, “How can it be that we live with those we love in different cities?” How apt for my experiences of the past week. I’m flying back from the East Coast where I attended a friend’s wedding. It was so lovely — the wedding and the visit.
The bride and groom! How could I not use this picture? I mean really.
It had been at least a year, sometimes years, plural, since I saw some of my friends. We chatted as if no time had passed, falling into familiarity like driving the daily route to work. Despite distance, despite not talking for ages, the love is there, much like I wrote about in “Love from afar.”
And now I’m going back to normal life, which sucks. It seems no matter where I am, I’m going to miss somebody because my loved ones don’t live together in a big hippie commune. I wish I was one of those “smile because it happened” instead of “cry because it’s over” people, but I’m not. I cry. I lament. I ache. But ever the practical person, I’m reminded there’s nothing I can actually do to change all this. And perhaps the feeling of love is what’s most important.
Maybe like I wrote about a few weeks ago, the emotions are more important than the particulars. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much that we live in different time zones, that we don’t speak often, that we don’t know the ins and outs of each other’s daily lives. perhaps what’s most important is the love between us that quite often transcends time and space.
Is it easier to love people who live close by? Of course, but that’s not always possible. Maybe in this day and age of being far flung, I have to content myself with knowing that I love. That love is all there is. That as I reference in the title of this post: “Love, love, love. The end.”
I dream of a world where we love more. A world where we realize love is what’s most important, not how often we see each other or how frequently we talk. A world where we take in Tennyson’s sentiment, “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other day I was thinking about how it’s been a dream of mine to travel and write. I am supremely envious of travel bloggers because I want to go to Hawaii! And Croatia! And swim with dolphins! I want to do cool things and get paid for it! And then I realized I already get paid to travel and write — just not in the way I wanted.
Like I wrote last week, I’ve moved 32 times in 29 years. In a way, I do get paid to travel and write. At this very moment I’m staying with friends in Baltimore and tomorrow I will wake up and work like I normally do. I work from home so all that’s required is internet access. You guys, I get paid to write and I travel. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE SPECIFIC WITH MY DREAM.
The end scene of “Under the Tuscan Sun” is one of my favorites and so appropriate for this post.
I bring this up because maybe I already have the things I want so much. I’ve been craving a steady home, but in some ways I already have it. There’s a retreat site in Missouri that I’ve gone to every year since I was three weeks old up until I was 25. It’s the only stable place I’ve ever had because, well, I’ve moved 32 times. I’ve lamented my paltry dating life, but clearly I date homes so that already exists.
I think about that scene at the end of Under the Tuscan Sun where it’s pointed out to Diane Lane’s character that she has a family in her house, and a wedding, and someone to cook for. The family was her best friend and her best friend’s baby, the wedding was for a neighbor, and the people to cook for were the contractors on her house. Maybe in some ways all the things I want are already here and it’s my job to open my eyes more. To see how my needs and wants are already getting fulfilled.
When I’m complaining about something to my recovery mentor I often say, “It will be OK.” She responds back to me, “It is OK.” Not in the future, now. I’m starting to see this is true. I want more money and I’m probably going to the retreat site in Missouri for a few months to recuperate — boom, more money. I want more love in my life? Not only am I staying with dear friends right now, but I’m getting snuggles from their pets. Everything I want is already here, getting fulfilled in unexpected ways. It’s sweet to notice that, to see how I’m already taken care of now, not in the future, but in the present.
I dream of a world where we can all identify how the things we want are already present for us. A world where we’re grateful for all that we have and all that we’re receiving. A world where we open our eyes more to see the unexpected ways the universe grants our wishes. A world where we see maybe it’s already here.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The number of romantic interludes I’ve had is embarrassingly low. Like, so low many of you would be shocked. However, it was pointed out to me the other day the way I talk about places to live, other people talk about romantic relationships. And then it hit me – what other people experience in their dating life, I experience in my home life.
I have moved 32 times (roughly) in 29 years and in that time I’ve experienced a LOT. I’ve had short-term flings (i.e. sublets); I’ve experienced love at first sight – my apartment in San Francisco – which has now turned into a phantom ex, the one I measure all others against. I’ve also had the experience of my love turning into a nightmare and lamenting how it happened – I’m talking about how my San Francisco upstairs neighbor started playing loud music and I didn’t sleep for four months.
Others date people, I date homes. Maybe I could move here, it looks nice!
I’ve moved into places that sounded good on paper, places I liked well enough but didn’t love – like my in-law unit in Balboa Park with a yippy dog – that eventually drove me nuts. I’ve remained good friends with exes, such as places in Washington, D.C., and we catch up every so often. I’ve “dated” apartments with kids (i.e. had a roommate with a child), and savored foreign lovers – there is a hotel in Vienna that I go back to year after year with pleasure.
In my current place, it wasn’t love at first sight, but we liked one another, it had all the qualities I’m looking for, but it turns out my apartment can’t commit. I’m sad to say, my landlady blew up at me unexpectedly and asked me to move out before my lease is up. I do have a lease, so I’m not sure when I’m moving, but at the moment we’re in that awkward space of knowing our “relationship” is coming to an end. In the interim, we are linked due to circumstances.
Not to mention I’ve been on loads of first dates (i.e. going to look at a place after first reading about it on Craigslist), attended tons of parties (open houses), and been rejected countless times. And I find myself wanting places that don’t want me – places that sound so intriguing and perfect but can’t be bothered to give me the time of day. And the reverse – places have wanted me that I haven’t.
The feelings that other people have in romance – the hope, the excitement, the euphoria, the resentment, the disappointment, the anger, the heartbreak – I’ve experienced in finding places to live. I bring this up because I’m a teensy bit ashamed of my paltry dating life, but now I see the universe is infinite and unlimited and so I’m having similar experiences in an unconventional way. Unconventional doesn’t mean bad, it means unusual. It doesn’t mean I’m any less equipped to deal with a partner when he comes along because I’m feeling the same things other people are, just in a different way.
I wrote this post because I find the situation to be funny, but also because maybe you think in some ways you don’t measure up. Maybe you feel ashamed because you’re not having the same experiences other people are having. I’m here to tell you, maybe you are and you’re unaware of it. Maybe life isn’t so much about a route or a path as it is about feelings. Maybe every person is supposed to experience hope, excitement, euphoria, resentment, disappointment, anger, and heartbreak, and it’s the emotions that count, not the particulars.
I dream of a world where we don’t discount our emotions. A world where we stop comparing ourselves to others, always coming up short. A world where we realize feelings count more than circumstances. A world where we embrace our unconventional selves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m sick today so I’m reposting something from more than two years ago. Love from afar is on my mind because I’m reuniting with so many friends through weddings and visits that I’m reminded I can still love people even if I haven’t seen them in 10 years.
Last night I went to a party a friend of mine from high school was throwing. I hadn’t seen him in YEARS, as in, possibly six or more, and yet when we saw each other it was like no time had passed. I love those friendships because they illustrate to me the basic truth that love never dies. You can lose contact with someone for years and when you see them again all the old feelings rush back. And that’s the case for romantic relationships as well. That’s probably why so many people get back together with their old flames. I get the warm fuzzies knowing love is one of those things that lasts.
I LOVE this image! How perfect! Copyright goes to Calindi Creations.
Right about now is probably when you’re saying, “Love doesn’t always last.” I think it does, actually. It may just get transmuted into other feelings like anger, resentment, or distaste. But if love wasn’t there, the feelings wouldn’t be either. In my opinion the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s apathy. There’s a reason why we say there’s a thin line between love and hate. If a person is generally the same one we met, there’s a good chance we’ll continue to love them, possibly for eternity. The way my life is going right now it’s nice to hold onto some permanence. I’m not saying I’ll forever be in love with a person, but I do think I’ll forever love them, make sense?
I’m not sure why I’m writing about this except that it really does inspire me. To not see someone for years, to not have any contact with them, and then when they re-enter your orbit to still love and care about them as if they’ve been around all along. Because on some level they have. We’re all connected, we’re all one, so maybe when someone comes into your life they’re always a part of it. And perhaps they’re a part of your life even before you met, you just didn’t know it. I enjoy knowing that love can endure. That even if there were personal issues that kept you apart you can still love someone. That to me is a beautiful thing. It’s an amazing expression of who we are as human beings. It’s an amazing expression of how time doesn’t mean much after all. Of how we’re not as separate as we’re led to believe.
I’m rambling a bit but I’m grateful and I’m inspired because love endures! Itlasts. It’s sweet and precious and doesn’t go away because you’ve lost contact or had a fight or moved. It never left.
I dream of a world where we revel in the notion love endures and that we can love from afar. That we can lose contact with someone and still love them. A world where we understand in many ways time is meaningless. A world where we allow ourselves to give and receive love because we understand that it will last.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have to admit, I’ve been terrible at saying present lately. I spoke with a friend and she told me I’ve “left without leaving.” My mind has been so focused on what’s next, on problem-solving, on little worries and concerns about the future that I’ve been unable to enjoy what’s in front of me. And that sucks.
I was out of town this weekend for a wedding and I spent a good chunk of it worrying about waking up at 4 a.m. today, Sunday, to drive three hours to the airport. I worried whether I would get to sleep, whether I would make the flight, etc. Well, I fell asleep at 3 a.m. this morning, so that was fun, and returned my rental car, caught all my flights, etc. without a hitch. All that worry merely distracted me from fully enjoying the present moment.
Look at this little kid being in the moment.
Part of it is physiological — my adrenal glands are soooo taxed right now with all the stress I’m experiencing — but part of it is because I believe I gain a sense of power through worrying. Obviously I do, otherwise I wouldn’t worry so much! My unconscious refrain is, “If I think about something often enough then perhaps I’ll be able to change the outcome.” The thing is, I make great choices. I can trust myself. I do not set myself up for failure and most importantly, the question to ask myself is, “So what?”
So what if I miss my flight? So what if I don’t sleep through the night? Are these things really as awful as I make them out to be? Of course not! Being at the wedding this weekend showed me how much I’m robbing myself of joy. For the past few months I’ve been so high-strung and in survival mode that I’ve forgotten how to just be, how to stay in the present.
The point of this post is to highlight that behavior and get back into the mindset I had a few years ago. I wasn’t able to stay present all the time, but lately I’ve been unable to stay present even some of the time because there’s been so much for me to deal with. Even as I type that I realize it’s an excuse because there will always be something going on. Life is just one damn thing after another, according to Elbert Hubbard, and I tend to agree. It’s been very easy for me to get wrapped up in the “one thing after another,” but do I have to? Can’t I instead take action as it’s called for and then let it go? I sure can!
I don’t have any solutions here, but I think this like most everything else is a process. It starts with recognizing I don’t like what I’m currently doing and I want to change it. I think it also comes from challenging my anxious brain by saying, “So what?” because really, even when the worst happens, haven’t I shown remarkable resilience?
I dream of a world where we relax and let things go. A world where we’re present, in the moment, being here, now. A world where we take action as necessary and then let it go. A world where we remember we can trust ourselves and we can trust all is well and all shall be well. A world where we give power to the present.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have a slight phobia of wheels. Roller skates, bicycles, cars, scooters – all of them scare me; not as a passenger, but when I’m in charge, heck yeah. My heart starts to pound and my rational brain leaves the building. It’s hard for me to concentrate, to remember all the little things that come so naturally to many. It would be great if a phobia was like other fears in that it abates the more often you engage with whatever it is you’re afraid of, but it’s not.
I like Wikipedia’s explanation of phobias the best:
“[A phobia is] a persistent fear of an object or situation in which the sufferer commits to great lengths in avoiding, typically disproportional to the actual danger posed, often being recognized as irrational. In the event the phobia cannot be avoided entirely, the sufferer will endure the situation or object with marked distress.”
This means that it doesn’t matter how often I drive a car (and I have — I’ve owned two cars, driven across the country, driven long distances by myself, driven in cities, etc.), the fear never goes away. It may lessen, but it’s ever present. I bring all this up because last week I bought this bad boy:
My new scooter! Ain’t it pretty?
For those of you who can’t tell, that’s a Piaggio Fly 150 scooter. Last week I moved to a quiet, safe neighborhood just over the Oakland hills that necessitates I have wheels of some kind. Because I can’t afford a car, voila, a scooter. I like riding my scooter; it’s fun, but it’s also scary because of my phobia to operating wheels. I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself to ride further and faster than I’m comfortable with because I kind of have to. The closest bus stop is a mile and a half away, and the closest BART station (the train system for those of you who don’t know) is six miles away.
In our culture of “just do it,” I feel like I should be able to “get over” my fear and drive the thing in heavy traffic and be completely fine. That I should be able to drive to the BART station no problem. But it is. I can’t force myself to be ready when I’m not. Yes, there is such a thing as paralysis, of complete avoidance, but there’s also such a thing as pushing myself too fast too far. I’m taking my scooter out every day to feel more comfortable handling it, to build up my confidence, but there’s no need to rush.
I bring this up because perhaps you feel like you “should” be somewhere you’re not. That you “should” quit your job already, or move, or be ready for another relationship, or whatever. I’m here to tell you (and me) it’s OK if you’re not. You don’t have to be ready faster than you are. It’s fine to go at your own pace and do things when you’re really ready. Yesterday I rode my scooter all the way to the grocery store because I was ready. I was afraid, but I was also ready to push myself to that limit. Instead of embracing the philosophy, “Ready or not, here I come!” I’m embracing the philosophy of gentleness, of going slowly at my own pace, because I’m not ready yet to go certain distances, but I know I will be.
I dream of a world where we don’t force ourselves to be ready when we’re not. A world where we allow ourselves to go at a pace we can handle. A world where we are gentle with ourselves, taking our time, easing off the pressure because we understand when it comes to “ready or not,” sometimes the answer is, “Not.”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I just moved on Friday so I am in no shape to write a blogpost, hence I’m recycling this one from February 2009. Enjoy!
I am the type of person who wants to do things BIG. I want to make a big splash, a big difference, a big impact, etc. A few years ago, I went to Jamaica because I wanted to do big-time service, but when I was there I learned service is the little things too.
I’m starting to believe I can find meaning and purpose in the small things as well.
Last week I would have told you to make difference, to really change the world, requires a best-selling book or a cure for cancer, something like that. Then I started thinking about it. I started burrowing down into the root cause of “making a difference.” Why do I want to write a book? Why is finding a cure for cancer such a big deal? Then it hit me: Duh, it’s because it affects other people! I started to realize the change, the impact comes from the interaction with people. Finding a cure for cancer is only meaningful if people know about it, if the antidote becomes widespread. Writing a book is only helpful if people actually read it and it touches them.
The entire world can be reflected in a moment. This image courtesy of MyEveryDayJourney.net.
As I pondered this, I realized my everyday life has meaning and value beyond the larger things I engage with because of the way I interact with others. Saying please and thank you. Smiling. Acknowledging the homeless woman on the corner. They may seem like small acts, but I’m reminded of a quote by Maya Angelou who said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Asking the bank teller how her day is going may not be earth-shattering, but she will certainly remember if I’m snarly and impatient.
I’m also reminded that society is made up of individuals and at this moment in time, my scope is small. I interact with a few individuals everyday, so that’s where I make a difference — in how I’m treating those around me. I think it’s really easy to become self-centered and forget that other people want us to ask how they’re doing too. Today I was at the grocery store and a worker asked me how I was doing, to which I retorted, “I’m fine thanks. How are you?” She thanked me for asking her! How simple, but also how powerful? How often are we really listening to one another? How often are we showing up for each other? Meaning, service, and an impact comes not just from becoming the president of the United States, but from calling up a friend when they’re going through a rough time, or driving someone to the airport.
I know I want to do big things, but I guess I’m saying little things help too. And I can find meaning in the everyday.
I dream of a world where we understand how we interact with others is where the difference, the change, the meaning comes from. A world where we realize smiling at the hot dog vendor has merit. A world where we pursue our big dreams while at the same time having sweet and smiling behavior on the day to day level. A world where we find meaning in the everyday.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m really into astrology – not as much as some of my friends, but it’s definitely something I’m interested in. I know some people think astrology is a lot of phooey, but I’m willing to bet that’s because they equate astrology with reading their horoscope. It’s not. Or at least, there’s more to astrology than reading a horoscope. Astrology takes into account the time, date, and location of your birth and then based on where the stars and planets were, is able to reveal certain insights about you. It’s personal and specific.
I would like to point out here the stars and planets do not determine life events – it’s not like something will happen automatically because the stars deem it so. Astrology functions more like a roadmap telling a person how to get from Portland to Paducah. The path may be in place, but the person still has to drive there.
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This is an astrological chart if you’ve never seen one. It’s not mine — it’s John Lennon’s.
What I like specifically about astrology is when other things in my life are not making sense I can usually count on astrology to provide me with an explanation. For instance, Saturn is sitting in my 10th house of career, which means when it comes to career there’s a big ole block for me. This explains why all the things that work for other people when it comes to career do not work for me. It explains why the books, seminars, courses, and other resources don’t seem to make a lick of difference: Saturn is blocking my career path!
It’s not a punishment; Saturn isn’t blocking my career to spite me, but rather to help with my soul’s purpose. I have a wavering sense of self-worth, which is also reflected in my chart. I tie my self-value to external things like who I know, how much money I’m making, and most damagingly, my career, specifically, writing. When I write a blogpost that gets lots of attention from other people, my self-esteem buoys. When nobody seems to care a bit, my self-esteem sinks. Last week I noticed through the backend of my email subscription service my blogs get viewed the most when I email them at around 11 p.m. I decided I was going to be really clever and ensure lots of people read my post by sending it at that time. Wouldn’t you know it – it was the lowest opened email ever.
This is the universe’s way of saying to me, “Rebekah, there is absolutely nothing you can do to increase your readership as long as you keep tying your self-worth to your writing. Saturn will not let you succeed until you figure out your self-worth is entirely dependent on your connection to spirit.”
I mention all this not to throw a pity party, but because it brings me relief. It brings me relief to know that I’m not doing anything wrong, that I’m not ineffective, or a screw up. My career is not taking off because there are some lessons I still need to learn. Astrology reminds me my life is my life and what works for others may not work for me. Astrology reminds me I’m on my own adventure and I can’t possibly compare myself to other people because it’s like comparing apples with orangutans.
I dream of a world where we understand we are each on our own journey. A world where we realize what works for others may not work for us. A world where we realize there are certain lessons we have to learn that others do not. A world where we bring ourselves relief by starting with our astrological charts to provide us with answers we can’t seem to find elsewhere.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This post isn’t really about the “nose” knowing so much as the body knowing something the brain does not.
I have moved more times than years I’ve been alive. Not all of my moves have been major – sometimes it was a matter of moving from one furnished sublet to another – but needless to say, I’ve lived in a LOT of places. Given my history, I think it’s understandable why I’m hesitant to jump into new housing situations. Primarily, I’m scared of making a mistake, of putting myself in a worse position than previously. I’m scared of the unknown, of the “what ifs,” of the things I can’t possibly know yet.
The nose knows! Especially Groucho Marx’s.
When I said “yes” to the place I’m moving into at the end of the month, it wasn’t an impulsive decision. I talked it over, thought it over, made a pro/con list. I felt paralyzed with indecision due to fear. “Would this place be worse? Will it be something I regret? Would it have been better to stay put?”
What helped me to make the decision with more peace of mind was paying attention to my body. I took my mind out of the equation and put my complete attention on the sensations in my body. When I thought about moving into my new place, I felt warm, at peace, relieved. There was some slight anxiety in my upper back, but for the most part, I felt great about the decision. When I thought about continuing to look for a place, I tensed up, my stomach clenched, I felt terrible about the decision, so obviously my body was saying, “Move. Move. Moooooooove.”
I realize not everyone has moved as often as I have, but I’d wager that we’ve all experienced indecision. That our minds have become like hamster wheels we’ve been unable to leave. Reason and logic do not work for me in these instances. I have to bypass my brain and go straight to my body and get in touch with the wisdom there. I do not know everything and I cannot know everything, but my body can give me more information. Thank goodness because otherwise I might still be looking for my “perfect” place to live.
I dream of a world where we get in touch with our bodies and examine the sensations we’re experiencing. A world where we understand our bodies may provide us with a wisdom that our brains cannot. A world where we realize the nose knows.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.