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.
I have some news. I’m moving! Not just talking about it, but actually moving at the end of this month. (Yay!) Moving is one of the most stressful things a person can experience, right under death of a loved one and a divorce, apparently. Needless to say, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed because on top of my already super-busy life, I have to add packing to the mix. One of the most beautiful, miraculous things coming out of this is people are offering to help me.
People are coming out of the woodwork to offer help moving or driving or picking up boxes. It’s been amazing because I often don’t know who to ask or even what to ask much of the time. To have someone say to me, “Oh, you can forward Craigslist ads of scooters to me to help you figure out what to buy,” is such a relief. To have someone say, “I’ll help you bring a load of stuff to your new place,” makes me want to weep with gratitude.
When I saw this picture I couldn’t resist using it. How cute is this?!?
I’m a very independent person. I like to do things by myself and I pride myself on being able to accomplish things on my own. When people want to help me it’s almost shocking because it’s a reminder I’m not alone, I’m not an island, I exist in a community, and furthermore, people want to help me.
That’s hard for me to remember because my first reaction is often, “I need to take care of this myself,” or “I need to figure this out.” I forget I’m not supposed to have all the answers and be a completely autonomous being. Other people have skills and assets I do not and that’s why I ask for help! There’s something particularly sweet though about not even asking and instead people offering. It feels like an extra special gift that someone wants to show up in my life in that way. It’s touching.
This is a rambly post but that’s because I’m super tired. Mostly, I want to express my gratitude for the people in my life who are offering to help me, for showing up in that way, because it means a lot. This is also my way of saying, offer help when you can because it will probably mean a lot to the person to whom you are offering. It shows a level of care and service that reminds me of the goodness in humanity.
I dream of a world where we offer help when we can. A world where we see all the ways that help is provided to us. A world where we remember we don’t have to do everything by ourselves, but that there are people waiting to help us. A world where we show we care for each other by being helpful.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The title for this post comes from a song a friend of mine wrote, which I’m embedding below:
I’ve been incredibly depressed this week, feeling hopeless about the state of humanity. Everywhere I looked it seemed the evils of society were reflected back to me and all I could think was, “What’s the point?” I can’t say I’m completely out of that melancholic spell, but what I’m realizing is being a good person isn’t good enough.
It’s not enough for me to be a law-abiding citizen and treat everyone with kindness. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to be kind to others, but it’s not enough to counter all the ugliness in the world. It’s not enough to eradicate all of the terrible things people do to each other. Being kind to my neighbor doesn’t go very far in reducing homelessness, poverty, and violence.
I think a part of my depression this week has been seeing passivity. I watched a movie and all the seemingly good people were slaughtered or went along with the bad guys because they were scared to do otherwise. I get that. I so get that because if someone held a gun to my head and told me to recite a script, I’d probably do the same thing. What I’m realizing though is if we, the good people, don’t band together, don’t rise up and get in touch with our warrior selves, we’ll keep getting mowed down. The bad guys will carry on doing what they’re doing because there’s nobody to stand up to them. There’s nobody to stop them.
I love superhero movies (they’re my favorite genre actually), but as much as I kind of wish Thor would descend to Earth and save us from ourselves, I don’t see any evidence of that happening soon. Batman is more of a possibility because he’s human, but why should all the work fall on his shoulders? My spiritual teacher says, and this is paraphrasing, that the strength of five good people is more than the united strength of a hundred immoral people. I take that to mean if we all unite together we can overpower the dark forces in the world. We can stop the terrors and tortures, but it requires more than showing up for work on time.
I don’t know how to do this, and that’s a part of my frustration. I don’t know how to engage in the world in such a way that I’m stopping people from inflicting malice on others. I don’t know how to move beyond being a good person, but I’d like to believe speaking up and speaking out is a part of it, and engaging in service for society whenever I can is another. I’d also like to believe that if we, the good people, put our heads together that we can come up solutions.
I dream of a world where the good people of the world unite to keep the immoral people in check. A world where we help each other out and refuse to sit idly by as we watch atrocities continue to happen. A world where we realize being good isn’t good enough.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I know the title “Convincing means the opposite” doesn’t make much sense, but bear with me. Last week, I talked about being triggered due to seeing my neighbor’s door ajar and not knowing whether she was broken into. Well, she was. What’s interesting is I worked so hard to convince myself why she couldn’t have been broken into, why it wouldn’t make sense. I called up other people and had them convince me why it didn’t make sense either. I needed constant convincing because I didn’t believe it!
Convincing has become a good barometer for me now, as in, if I have to work hard to convince myself something is true, it’s probably not, and vice versa. This is a valuable lesson for me right now because I’m looking for a new place to live and I have convinced myself in the past to move into a place with disastrous consequences.
I’d like us to use our intuition more. To have it be a lantern lighting our way. This gorgeous image is by Leah Piken Kolidas from CreativeEveryDay.com.
A few years ago I found an attic in-law apartment and I didn’t particularly like it. My description was, “It’s funky.” When it came to sign the lease I started to feel a bit panicky, I didn’t want to be locked into a year commitment. Obviously I knew something was off, but I talked myself into it saying, “Well, it’s in your price range, near public transportation, and the space is suitable for your needs. What more could you ask for?” It turns out what I bargained for was a yippy dog that bit me and drew blood, neighbors that played really loud music beneath me all the time, and a landlady that couldn’t care less about me. Not to mention the inability to do laundry at her residence.
I don’t regret my decision, not really, because it spurred me to live in Tucson for a month and then return to Washington, D.C., two things I’m grateful I was able to do and thoroughly enjoyed. However, convincing myself to move into a place that wasn’t right caused me a lot of angst and it’s only through grace that the lease was month-to-month and that I was able to have such a sweet experience afterward.
I guess I’m saying we need to give ourselves more credit. We know when something is right and when it’s not. And if we have to convince ourselves one way or another, to me, that’s a great indicator we’re doing ourselves a disservice. Whether it’s talking myself into buying a pair of jeans or signing a lease, I would do better to say yes only if I can say yes easily.
I dream of a world where we realize convincing means something is not right. A world where we listen to our inner guidance. A world where we realize we know more than we think we do. A world where we don’t let our rational minds overpower us. A world where we understand we already have all the answers that we seek and it’s a matter of getting quiet to listen.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am a firm believer that every repeat experience, every emotional overreaction, comes up so it can be healed and released. Having said that, I am also a slow learner and usually want to change my outside circumstances instead of determining what the internal, personal lesson is. However, the universe is tricky and makes sure I confront my stuff.
Yesterday, I went to water my neighbor’s garden and I noticed her back door was ajar, which it hadn’t been the day before. I immediately assumed the worst. “She must have been broken into! She’s been robbed and ransacked!” I don’t think she was robbed, it doesn’t really make sense that she was considering we’re in a gated community, nobody else reported a burglary, she’s at the back of the property, and somebody would have to know to walk to the back of the house to find a door. Anyway, I don’t know for sure, that answer will be revealed when I speak with her.
I’d like to think that explosions can also be good things, like supernovae creating something new.
The point is I freaked out. As in, inconsolable, shaken, incapable of much rational thought, unable to sleep or calm down. When I dug a little deeper I realized it’s not because I was worried about being broken into myself, but rather because I was having flashbacks. Almost two years ago, some friends of mine were broken into while I was housesitting for them. I was, and am, traumatized by the experience. Walking into a space with the back door ajar, ransacked, books thrown on the floor, drawers pulled out from the dresser, all the lights on, has been burned into my brain. So when I saw my neighbor’s door ajar, I wasn’t seeing her situation, I was reliving one from my past. That, my friends, is called a trigger.
I hadn’t realized I’d carried so much fear with me about the experience two years ago until yesterday. I thought I was over the whole thing but now I understand I’d only buried it. Instead of lamenting the possible break in, I see what’s really happening on my end is that I need to release this junk. I need to let the trauma out of my body and I’m thankful I have the tools like EMDR to do so. That’s the nature of triggers, they precede an explosion, and instead of running away from triggers, it’s far better for me to deal with them as they come up so I am no longer triggered with quite the same severity.
A million years ago a good friend of mine told me every moment of life is a love poem from my creator. I have to believe that also includes the “bad” stuff, the triggers, the hard moments, the things I’d rather push under the rug. My creator loves me so much that circumstances are created such that these things are not allowed to stay hidden. I am so loved my creator instead says, “Hey, Rebekah, you need to look at this.” And so I am.
I dream of a world where we confront our triggers as they come up. A world where we understand every moment is a love poem from our creator. A world where we shine a light on all our dark spots and seek the help we need, in whatever form that may take.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m reposting this primarily because I need a reminder that the impossible is possible. In fact, the word “impossible” even says, “i’m possible” in it. I realize it may seem strange to emphasis that dreams come true, that what I want can be made manifest, when the cottage I reference in this post is the very one I’m moving out of as soon as I find something else, but I have no regrets. My cottage has served its purpose, it’s what I wanted at the time, it was everything I wished for or thought I could live with, and now it’s time for a new dream, for a new fantasy to come to life.
I’ve been accused on more than one occasion, and by more than one person, of “living in Dreamsville,” aka, Fantasyland, aka never gonna happen. I understand why people say this to me — because I dream big, because I ask for a lot, and because what I desire so often doesn’t match what other people think is possible. Here’s the thing though, what I want is absolutely possible, and in fact, comes true.
This looks like a nice place to live. Maybe I can live here.
If you’ve been reading “Another World is Probable” for a while, you know I’ve been a gypsy without a caravan for about a year and a half. I’ve moved apartments, cities, and coasts. I haven’t stayed in any one place for longer than four months since January of 2012. Last Monday I realized my dreams have changed and I no longer want to live in the city. Instead, I want to live where I can see trees outside my window, by myself, in a quiet place, but still close to things — shops, public transportation, etc. The kicker is I need to be able to afford it working part time in the most expensive area in the country. This dream was often scoffed at because it sounds unrealistic (understandably).
Well, on Thursday, I signed a lease on a place and it’s all those things and more. I’ll be living in a cottage by myself, within my price range, at a gated community, near public transportation, where I can see trees outside my window. When I walked into the cottage I cried. I cried because the place felt like home, but also because I was overwhelmed at seeing my dream come to life. I was overwhelmed at how the universe orchestrated to meet all my needs and more. I was overwhelmed that what other people deemed impossible was staring me in the face.
I bring this up not to chastise the people who tell me I live in Never Never Land, but because I think it’s important to realize our dreams are possible. That you can’t really dream “too big.” I’m not saying they’ll manifest overnight — heck, it’s taken me a year and a half to realize what I wanted and then receive it — but they do happen.
Dreams turning into reality are on my mind because I’m currently in Seattle for my mom’s graduation. My 64-year-old mother is graduating from medical school. It’s been a dream nearly 29 years in the making (she was pregnant with me when she started the prerequisites for med school) and now she’s graduating. My dear friend has a quote I believe he crafted himself, “Dreams may fade from view, dreams may be torn and bruised, but dreams never die.” And I would add to that, dreams come true if we work for them, if we keep the faith, and if we take the action steps to realize them.
I dream of a world where we all dream big and then watch those dreams turn into reality. A world where we understand it’s amazing to live in Dreamsville, and as John Lennon says, you’re not the only one. A world where we receive all the blessings the universe wants to bestow on us and more.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.