For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
This whole week the concept of bit by bit, of doing things in small chunks, has been on my mind because I’m again in the midst of packing, so I’m reposting this blog from about a year ago.
I’m sitting in my cottage surrounded by boxes — although not as many as last week! — and what I want is to unpack everything now. I want to be settled now. I want all the organizing to be done now. I want my big payday right this minute, not little by little.
I quite often forget this concept of bit by bit, baby steps, slow and steady wins the race, etc. because I’m attracted by the big and bold, by pomp and circumstance. I love hearing about seemingly overnight success and Cinderella stories because, well, I’m impatient.
Bit by bit adds up to something grand.
Bit by bit is important for me to remember because more often it’s the case someone is wealthy because they know how to save — they sock away money a little bit here, a little bit there. More often it’s the case an actor has been auditioning for years before they become an “overnight” success. Truly it’s the baby steps, the hard work along the way that builds up to something great. Rome wasn’t built in a day and nor will my cottage be unpacked in a day. I want to be a best-selling author this minute, but when I focus on the big goal I forget about selling one book at a time to one person at a time.
For someone like me who’s melodramatic and makes big drastic changes quite frequently, doing something bit by bit is crucial. When I look at all the things that have stuck with me — my meditation practice, my yoga practice, my recovery from addiction — it’s because I did things little by little. They’ve become permanent fixtures in my life because I took action every single day — not because I made one grand sweeping gesture. Sure, the grand gestures are fun and exciting, but it’s the little actions everyday that have made the most lasting impact.
I don’t know that anyone else will get anything out of this blogpost, but I guess I’m saying for today I realize there is value in the small things. In doing things one day at a time, bit by bit. Yes, I’m impressed by vast canyons, but that’s because I’m seeing the end results — many canyons are created by water wearing down rock little by little, day by day. Bit by bit adds up to something beautiful and grand, and right now is the time for me to practice that, knowing eventually I’ll see the results I’m looking for.
I dream of a world where we value doing something bit by bit. A world where we understand constant and steady pressure adds up to something amazing. A world where we have patience with ourselves and each other. A world where we cherish our baby steps.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
I want to be happy all the time. I don’t think I’m alone in this. What I’m noticing lately is whenever I’m scared or anxious I turn into Judgey McJudgerson and tell myself it’s bad to feel what I’m feeling. I make myself feel worse because I tell myself it’s stupid for me to startle at every noise or to have a fear of driving. Mostly I tell myself I shouldn’t feel the way I do.
Even if I don’t explicitly tell myself I shouldn’t feel scared or anxious or unhappy, I do so tacitly whenever I try to change my feelings. When I use affirmations, yoga, meditation, tapping, self-talk, going to my happy place, etc. I’m not saying these are bad tools, they’ve been very helpful, but this week I’ve been trying something new, which is to let myself be. To let the anxiety spring up without judging it, without trying to change it. Just noticing it and seeing what happens.
Let it be! I’m not sure why this image says “let it be” to me but it does. Image by James Douglas.
Ever since I was hit by a car in November, I’ve felt a little panicky every time I cross the street. My heart starts to race and I have to psyche myself up, triple checking where the cars are to ensure my safety. When I’ve tried something different, i.e. neutrality and self-compassion, I’ve noticed my fear of crossing the street has abated.
I don’t know this will work all the time, but it’s a bit of a relief to not try so hard to feel a certain way. To not judge myself and criticize myself for feeling something I don’t perceive everyone else does (i.e. being afraid of crossing the street). When I treat myself with love and self-compassion, the anxiety doesn’t fight back nearly as strongly.
Why am I telling you this? Maybe you can relate. Maybe you try to coerce yourself into being happy all the time or believing that if you’re not it’s your fault. That you’re not thinking the right thoughts, or meditating enough, or affirming enough, or eating the right food. And while those things may be true, what’s also true is that you and I are human. We are made to experience emotions. We are made to experience highs and lows. It’s unrealistic to expect that I’ll be happy all the time, and placing that expectation upon myself only makes when I’m unhappy that much worse.
How much easier would it be if we let our emotions pass like petals floating down a stream? If we didn’t expect that we could control our emotions with such exactitude? If we practiced radical self-acceptance and were kinder and gentler to our internal selves? I, for one, am finding there are a lot of emotions I’ve buried beneath my anxiety, and I wonder if I excavate them and allow myself to feel them, if my anxiety will disappear.
I dream of a world where we don’t try to force ourselves to feel one way or another. A world where we practice neutrality and self-compassion instead of judgment for our inner selves. A world where we let ourselves be.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
“View your life with kindsight. Stop beating yourself up about things from your past. Instead of slapping yourself on the forehead and asking, ‘What was I thinking?’ breathe and ask the kinder question, ‘What was I learning?’” – Karen Salmansohn
I love this concept of kindsight, of viewing my past mistakes with compassion, but I’ll be honest, it’s soooo hard. Far easier for me to beat myself up for eternity. For instance, I still think about a mistake I made in 7th grade and burn with shame and embarrassment. I think it’s because in a weird way I believe by beating myself up about it over and over again I’ll keep myself from repeating it. Like that saying, “If you don’t remember the past you’re doomed to repeat it.”
View your past mistakes through the eyes of love!
Well, I’m so desperate not to repeat the past that I remember it and remember it and remember it . . . I have the “remembering the past” thing down pat so perhaps it’s time to move onto, “What was I learning?” If I ask, “What was I learning?” that means I can cut out the self-flagellation bit and focus on the lesson. Although, I have to be honest, at the moment I’m self-reflecting and beating myself up. One step at a time I guess.
On Friday, a friend asked me to speak about self-compassion (go figure) and it occurred to me the most compassionate thing I do for myself is let the mistake go. Not justify, not say, “Mistakes are human,” not remind myself I didn’t know better or nobody’s perfect, or any of the million things we say to ourselves and each other when we make a mistake. Just let it go. Say to myself, “OK. That happened. Let’s move on.”
To me, kindsight is about integrating the lesson to a degree I don’t have to constantly remind myself what I did wrong because I’ve already taken corrective measures. And it’s about trusting myself that I won’t make the same mistake, or at least I won’t in the exact same way, and if I do, I can forgive myself.
Ah forgiveness. That’s another tough one. I find it about a bajillion times easier to forgive other people, even people who’ve been mean to me, than to forgive myself. When I look at my character traits I see that lack of compassion for others isn’t one of them, but I certainly lack compassion for myself. I have such a big heart; perhaps it’s time to turn all that love, affection, forgiveness, and compassion inward. It sure beats the alternative.
I dream of a world where we have more compassion for ourselves. A world where we practice gentleness about our past mistakes. A world where we integrate the lessons we’ve learned and let go of the harmful deeds. A world where we view our past with kindsight.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of this post, scroll to the bottom.
I’m sure this will come as a big shock, but I’m hard on myself. I can’t seem to let go of previous mistakes. On Wednesday, I didn’t turn right fast enough. I kept waiting for the far left lane to be clear so I could merge into it and thus avoid having to change lanes quickly later on. The car behind me did not like this, honked at me, and exclaimed, “You’re not turning left!” I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
I feel uncomfortable because 1.) a stranger honked and yelled at me and 2.) he was probably right. I probably could have turned right much sooner than I did. I want strangers to like me. I’m bothered by brief interactions with others because I don’t get to hash things out with them, there’s no chance to explain or justify. The person is left with only one impression and that makes me uncomfortable.
I saw this image and I couldn’t resist! I’m an INFJ and it’s so true!
On my best days, I approach mistakes as opportunities, as learning experiences. I remind myself I can’t know everything in advance and the only one who expects me to do everything perfectly every time is me. Oh perfectionism, how I’d like to do without thee.
Another reason I’m uncomfortable with brief interactions with strangers is I want to be able to control outcomes and reactions. I want to be able to predict how somebody will respond and it’s impossible to do that with strangers, and even people I know, really. Trying to do things so that I get the reaction I desire out of someone else is called manipulation, or perhaps people pleasing. At the moment, people pleasing and perfectionism have morphed into martyrdom. I don’t want to displease others so I’m willing to suffer at my own expense.
There is nothing noble about this. Sacrifice is a tenet of my spiritual practices, but there’s a difference between sacrificing out of love for another, or love for a country, and sacrificing so people like me. When I start to allow myself to sacrifice so much that I suffer, I turn myself into a martyr, a role no one asked me to play. I allow other people’s needs and wishes to become more important than mine and that’s not acceptable. If I don’t take care of myself, neither will anyone else.
My needs are just as important as someone else’s. Not more important, not less important, equally important. When I turn into a people-pleasing martyr, I’m saying to myself and to the other person, “I don’t matter, my needs don’t matter.” You know what? They do. Especially if I’m paying for them. I have every right to send food back at a restaurant. I have every right to ask my neighbors to turn down their music at night. The answer may be “No,” but I still have a right to ask. And as I’ve seen time and time again, even when the answer is “No,” my higher power still takes care of me in interesting and creative ways I could never have imagined.
I dream of a world where we strike the right balance between sacrifice and selfishness. A world where we don’t needlessly suffer on someone else’s behalf. A world where we stand up for ourselves, remembering we have to be our own heroes. A world where we do our best to take care of ourselves and when that’s not possible, we remember higher power has it covered.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For the audio version of the post, scroll to the bottom.
When I look around at what’s going in on the world I feel powerless and depressed. I have to keep reminding myself things are not always what they seem, that I have more power than I think I do, but it’s incredibly difficult. I want other people to tell me happy, optimistic things, but I’m realizing (yet again) I have to do that for myself.
Yesterday, I saw pictorial evidence about how severe the drought in California is. I’m posting two of the pictures below:
Here, the Enterprise Bridge spans the Lake Oroville in Butte County, California in July 2011.
Here, the Enterprise Bridge spans the same reservoir in 2014. (Source)
Whoa. You guys those pictures are scary. This is usually where I would tell you to stop watering your lawn or to turn off the faucet when you brush your teeth, but only about 4 percent of California’s water footprint is individual, personal use. According to a 2012 Pacific Institute report, 93 percent of California’s water use goes to agriculture. When I say “agriculture” I don’t mean lettuce. I’m talking about meat. OneGreenPlanet.Org wrote an article about this and cited studies from Cornell and other places that found it takes 100 times more water to produce one pound of animal protein than one pound of grain protein.
I really hate talking about food choices because I was teased so mercilessly for being a vegetarian as a child. And I have an eating disorder so I’m really uncomfortable talking about food. However, having said that, if you are as scared looking at those drought pictures as I am, perhaps it’s time to get uncomfortable. According to the Environmental Working Group, if everyone in the U.S. ate no meat or cheese just one day a week, it would be like not driving 91 billion miles – or taking 7.6 million cars off the road.
Of course political action is also necessary, but cutting down meat consumption is something we as individuals have control over right now. And if you want to contribute even more, there’s a petition you can sign that urges the California legislature to reject any attempt to weaken, water down, or delay implementation of California’s best climate change law. If you live in New York, or plan to be in New York City in September, there’s a People’s Climate March to demand that world leaders aim high, and create the solutions we need to combat the climate crisis.
The things that give me hope about the environmental state of the world are that things like the People’s Climate March are happening, that some cities have banned plastic bags, and that the awareness about eating better has taken off. It’s a small thing, but I’ve also started blogging for Going2Natural.com where I and other women are writing about the small things we’re doing to save money and promote a more sustainable lifestyle.
This morning I woke up with the song “Ooh child things are gonna get easier” stuck in my head. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me things will get brighter but only if you and I take the necessary action steps.
I dream of a world where we understand we are all stewards of the Earth and it’s our job to take care of it and each other. A world where we do our best to use resources as responsibly as possible. A world where we understand our choices do indeed affect the climate.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
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.