When people talked to me about their "inner child" I would look at them quizzically. I didn't really know what they meant, possibly because my inner child has been very repressed, but also because now I’m an adult and there's enough distance between who I am now and who I was as a kid to distinguish the two.
It has become clear to me lately I've been letting my inner child run the show. I'm defining my inner child as the voice inside my head that likes to throw tantrums, that says, "NO!" the way only kids — or adults imitating kids — can, the voice that would have me shirk responsibility to play instead, and the voice that's really scared.
Copyright (I think) is Natalia Phenice.
I've realized all (or most, anyway) of my issues about safety stem from my inner child, and with good reason. I know I've been very blasé about this, how I often mention it in passing, but both of my maternal grandparents were Holocaust survivors. Let's have that sink in a bit. My grandpa was in a concentration camp, narrowly escaping death numerous times, often because of someone else's whim. When the Russians liberated his camp, he was so emaciated he could barely stand. My grandma lived in hiding for years. She was in a ghetto and then hid in a farmer's cellar who kicked her out once she had no more money to bribe him with.
My grandparents were attacked and persecuted for being who they were — Jewish. After the war their fears didn't disappear and in fact were passed down. My mom still gets nervous about telling people she's Jewish or that she does yoga and meditation. She has that lingering fear that she will be harmed for just being her. And I? I carry that fear with me too because of my childhood.
I've said this so many times people are probably tired of hearing it, but I grew up someplace where the KKK was active. These people burned crosses in the yards of other Jews. Many of the townsfolk where bigoted and racist, trying to kill the black student that went to our high school. I didn't realize how deeply this affected my psyche, but it did. I was scared to be myself, to let people really know me because I've been afraid they will hurt me. Physically I mean. It's not just the Jewish thing, it's the vegetarian thing too. Kids at school used to tease my brother mercilessly about what he ate — they even threw bologna at him as a "joke."
Notice I've mentioned family members but nothing specifically about me. That's because I was always shielded. Through the grace of God or I don't know what, I have never come to harm for being myself. (OK, so I was bullied a teeny bit in middle school for like two weeks but after one trip to the guidance counselor that was resolved and now we're friends on facebook.) I have never been hurt in that way but my inner child is so scared that I will be. It's gotten so out of control I have trouble sleeping at night. That is, until recently when I realized I've been letting my inner child call the shots.
I've had to tell little Rebekah it's safe to be her. And I've had to remind myself my grandparents were survivors. They survived and even thrived — my grandpa started his own business selling clothes in Manhattan. I'm also a survivor, I'm a thriver, and it's time to employ my logical mind. It's time to be an adult and look at the evidence. Hell, there was a break in and I wasn't home and none of my stuff was taken. I'd call that being pretty darn protected and safe. In the spirit of reparenting my little darling, I gather her up, let her cry, and ask her to remember while the world may look scary, she's safe and I've got her.
I dream of a world where we all take care of our inner children. A world where we reparent our inner kids if necessary. A world where we love and approve of ourselves and a world where we know we are safe, loved, and protected because we are here. We made it.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I'm reading Doreen Virtue's Solomon's Angels and the main character is speaking to Archangel Michael and he says:
"Every moment around the world, there are thousands of examples of love," Michael said to me. "You are watching it in action right now, which is the most powerful demonstration of the Divine energies. The more you notice and practice love in action, the more you will enjoy the dynamic flow of your life." — Doreen Virtue. Solomon's Angels: A Novel (pp. 178-179). Kindle Edition.
Last night as I read that sentence I put the book down (or my computer as it were) and thought about all the instances of love in my life. And I don't mean how my parents love me or how pets love me. I started to see all my life circumstances through eyes of love so they can be healed. It's been very challenging for me to let go of the bitterness in my heart about the events of this past year, and last night I started to crack that façade and start seeing through the eyes of love instead.
Seeing through the eyes of love!
I left my beloved apartment on Post Street so I could be safe. I moved into a sublet in the Mission district so I could meet M, who is my human local connection to Judaism (such as it is). Because as much as I don't understand it, I have a deep love for some of the practices and I enjoy celebrating the Jewish New Year. And I wouldn't have met him if I hadn't left Post Street.
I am so very, very appreciative of how all this drama with my housing has led me to become closer to my community. How I bonded with K while painting my room in the Mission. How I got much closer to S and L because I didn't ever want to be home. How I was able to spend time with A and his wife. I don't think any of that would have happened if I'd been in my bubble on Post Street hibernating. I guess that's also what this has been about. Coming out of my shell and being more in the world. My friend B says higher power sends me places. She may be right because I've certainly been sent out in the world!
I see with eyes of love this lack of sleep and physical problems because the truth is they've been out of whack for years and because I'm melodramatic, it takes something really huge to get my attention and force me to change, and now I am.
I'm grateful for the apartment I just moved out of because it showed me it's really important to have good neighbors. How I can't tolerate living somewhere with lower or negative energy. And how it's important for me to not settle for anything. To always, always follow what makes my heart sing and not give into my fears no matter the circumstances.
I'm also grateful for that apartment I just left because it's led me here, and this is such a sweet setup. No rent, a pool, gorgeous Arizona, and gift cards for food as well as gas and use of the car. All my needs are met in abundance. I had to go through hell to get here but I think it was worth it.
I'm even grateful for the break in a few months ago because my need to feel safe/protect others and worry about their safety has been a lingering issue. I'm grateful it happened so the issue could finally be healed as I realize I'm not responsible for anyone else.
I'm seeing all of these situations with a much broader perspective. I'm seeing them as a perhaps a loving higher power would. And because I am, it all becomes easier to deal with. I can see the good in the bad and understand there is love behind it all.
I dream of a world where we all see with the eyes of love. A world where we find the benefit in all the things we go through, even the "bad" stuff. A world where we truly believe everything happens for a reason in our best interest. A world where we notice all the love and thus amplify it.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I think it's fair to say I've been in a heightened state of fear and anxiety for roughly the past year. I startle at every noise. I check that the doors and windows are locked multiple times before retiring at night. When I'm sleeping in a house by myself I race to the window every time I hear a thump (a tree branch) or a creak (the house settling). I'm doing my best to mitigate the problem — biofeedback, acupuncture, etc. but ultimately fear is taking over.
I spoke with my life coach several days ago (yes, I have one) and cried on the phone about how I want to sleep at night and I don't want to be dependent on the presence of someone else to feel safe. He asked me, "When was the last time you felt safe?" Despite its pitfalls, I felt safe in my previous apartment because it was such a pain in the ass to get to. No one would go through the trouble of breaking in, but even then I still had some fear. I surprised myself by telling him the last time I felt truly safe was when I did kung fu regularly. I remember walking down the street feeling unafraid and in my body, knowing and trusting I could handle myself should something arise. In the past year I've lost that. I've felt powerless and helpless and like a victim.
This week I started doing kung fu again. I wish I could say it was a magic pill and all of a sudden I feel loads better, but that's not true. I can say I feel progressively better because I'm bringing out my inner warrior.
When I think of "warrior" I usually picture some ripped guy ready to use his fists or weapons to protect himself and his loved ones from some impending danger. I do NOT think of a 5'6" Jewish woman who waxes eloquent about spirituality and love for all. Here's the thing — my image of a warrior is warped. A warrior is not a bloodthirsty dude ready to kill whoever steps in his way. A warrior is someone who faces their fears. Someone who does what needs to be done. Someone who has strength of character and a backbone. Someone who will fight and protect if necessary but isn't constantly ready to engage in knuckle bashing.
I bring this up because we all have an inner warrior. It's the part of ourselves that's strong and capable and focused. The part of ourselves that's disciplined and keeps taking the next right action and then the next. The inner warrior is the piece of us that is courageous and provides security. My inner warrior has been lying dormant for far too long. Instead of jumping like a scaredy cat, feeling like a victim, afraid of my own shadow, it's time to pull up the strength within me, to take back my power, and become an active participant in the world once more.
I dream of a world where we call upon our inner warrior when it's most prudent for us. A world where we engage with battles to set our world right again. A world where we stand up for ourselves, a world where we access our inner strength. A world where we bring out our inner warriors.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
If you've met me in person (or even if you haven't, actually) you know I'm like a frantic "little engine that could." I-think-I-can-I-think-I-can do any and all projects until my poor little engine starts short circuiting. So much so that even the hum of a refrigerator gets on my nerves.
Now that I'm in Arizona I've had to change my "I think I can" motto to, "I think I won't." It is so very hard to convince myself to do nothing. To rest. To relax. To lie on a pool flotation device and dabble my fingers in the water. I'd much rather be swimming laps or responding to e-mails or doing something productive. My little workaholic is horrified at the idea of spending an entire month lounging around and resting. What value is there in resting? What am I accomplishing by resting? There are no awards given for it. No gold stars, no praise.
I floated on one of these today.
I mention all this not to throw a pity party but because this is seriously imbalanced. Rest is just as important as work. (I have to admit a part of my brain just said, "Yeah right.") Without rest my body, my brain, my life all start to deteriorate. And I'm not just talking about getting eight hours a sleep each night. I mean taking time out to do nothing. Having a day where I don't leave the house and don't accomplish anything of merit.
When I rest it says, "I matter. I'm worth taking care of." When I throw myself into activity after activity it sends the message other people are more important than me. World issues are more important than me. But they're not. I'm not of use to anyone as I am right now — so dysfunctional I startle at every low, deep noise. So tired even after being awake for four hours I want a nap. I'm not blaming or chastising myself. This is the way it's been but I am making a conscious decision to change all that. I made a decision to put my health first the minute I said, "Sure, I'll housesit in Arizona."
There is value in doing nothing. There are three aspects to life: work, rest, and play. Neither should overpower any of the others because if they do life will become unmanageable. I'd rather not keep going down this road, thank you. Instead, I vow to do nothing.
I dream of a world where we all find balance between work, rest, and play. A world where we value each aspect equally. A world where we understand all elements work together. A world where we sometimes commit to doing nothing.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Tonight is my last night in California for a month. I know that doesn’t seem like much but considering I don't have a place of my own to come back to, it is. I'm saying goodbye to a state I've called home for the past 4.5 years. It feels like more than a vacation because I'm really and truly blowing in the wind. When someone asks for me an address I have to think about it — do I give them the address of the place I'm housesitting? Do I use my parents' address? Do I use my former apartment because that's the last place I lived?
This evening I sat in my friends' backyard in San Jose all by my lonesome. They went out of town unexpectedly so I again find myself housesitting. Watching the sun turn the mountains in the distance burnt sienna, my heart broke a little. I don't know where I'm living in November and quite possibly it won't be here.
A close approximation of what I saw tonight.
Yes, I'm being a bit maudlin, but this is what it means to say goodbye. To close a chapter and start something new. My friend went to a financial conference recently and one of her takeaways was, "Don't forget you're asking a whole lot when you ask someone to change." I think the same is true of ourselves as well. Even though I grow and change ceaselessly, that doesn't mean it gets any easier.
Here is what I know. It's difficult to say goodbye, even for a short while, but it's so we can welcome in something better. I realize I'm talking specifically about moving out of California and becoming a gypsy, but I think the same applies to anything we say goodbye to: a romantic partner, a job, a lifestyle, an addiction. Painful feelings will come up, we may want to say, "I changed my mind! I'll keep things the way they are!" but we cannot. One of the things I've learned in the past year is life can become so uncomfortable it forces us to change. I never had any intention of reliving my Just a Girl from Kansas experience but here I am, housesitting and living out of my suitcase once again.
Do I have anything profound to say? No. Mostly I'm sad. Sad to be leaving behind a state I love and a community I love for the great unknown. But I'm doing it anyway. Because I know I need to. I know I need this time to rest and rejuvenate. To start writing again. To get my body in working order. To heal parts of myself that are crying out for attention. And that means I have to say goodbye to California for a while.
I dream of a world where we say goodbye to things that no longer serve us. A world where we change because we know it's in our best interest. A world where we embrace the big question marks and trust we're doing the right thing even if it makes us sad. A world where we know we have to say goodbye for a while in order to say hello to something new.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Even if you've never read this blog before I'm pretty sure you'd know I was an idealist and an optimist just based on the title. When I interact with people who aren't optimistic, it bugs me. Today I've been asking myself why. Why is it so important to me people allow for possibility and hope for the best? I think primarily it's because when we say negative things we give away our power. Stay with me for a minute.
I firmly believe who co-create our lives because we are what we think. This is what affirmations are all about and this is the underlying idea of so many meditation practices. If you constantly think, "I am one with the universe," you feel one with the universe. Louise Hay has a great story about how she worked for a nightclub, I think it was, and everyone told her the boss was terrible. No one liked him, he treated everyone poorly. Instead of giving into that idea, Louise took the stance, "I always work for wonderful bosses," and you know what? She was the only employee he treated well. Words are extremely powerful and so are our attitudes. They set us up for how we experience life.
This is a small example but last week I moved all of my things into a storage unit. The movers kept saying to me, "I don't know, I don't think it will fit. You have too much stuff." My response? "Let's just try it. I think it will fit." And you know what? We had room to spare. If I had listened to the pessimistic movers I would have stopped packing, unloaded the storage unit, and paid more money for a bigger space. This is what it means to be pessimistic, to assume the worst under the guise of being "realistic." Maybe I don't want to be "realistic." Maybe I'd rather co-create a life where people treat me well, where I catch all my flights, where my stuff fits in small spaces, and I realize my dreams.
I'd also like to take this time to point out we are all vibratory beings. We are made up of atoms zinging around, so on a fundamental level we are energetic entities. Our words are as well. It's no secret I love Doreen Virtue. Doreen has a book, Angel Words, that shows quite clearly when we say something positive like "admiration," the literal graphic representation is larger. You can see the high and low vibrations within speech:
We all know this already. When we say the word, "love," it feels different than, "hate." For me, anyway, I feel it in my body. "Love" is expansive and open and "hate" is constricted and makes my chest feel tight. So of course it makes sense when we string together a sentence, it too carries its own vibration and has an effect.
Here is one of my favorite stories about being optimistic. A few years ago I traveled with a friend of mine and we stayed in a tent together. While we were out, it rained. My friend worried and fretted. She said over and over again, "I bet my stuff got wet." I said over and over again, "It's probably fine." When we got back to the tent, her things were wet while mine were dry. Now, I can't tell you that's completely because I believed my clothes would be dry, but I like to think it had something to do with it. I know that when I'm more positive I attract positive experiences to me. That's not to say I'm 100% in charge and in control of my life, because I'm not. Some bad things are destined to happen to me because of my karma or because of what I set into motion, but the things I can control? I sure as heck want to make sure they're as positive as possible.
I dream of a world where we look on the bright side of everything. A world where we see the potential in everyone and everything. A world where we believe in the best more than we do the worst. A world where we understand we co-create our life and therefore we want to make it as positive as we can.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I didn't write a blogpost last night because I was at Rosh Hashanah services and didn't come home until late. One line in particular during the service jumped out at me, "Cast away your sins." I don't like the word "sins" because it dredges up notions of heaven and hell and judgment, but I do believe in casting away troubles.
This has been quite a whirlwind week, and year, for that matter. Last night I looked down at my body and noticed the numerous black and purple bruises that were war wounds from moving on Saturday. (Moving: It's a dangerous business.) But I'm OK with them because they will fade. They are mementoes from a time now past. Now that the dust has settled and I'm out of my hellacious apartment, I'm sighing in relief. In fact, just now I took a big exhale.
What I love about Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year for those of you who don't know) is it's a reminder to start over. To cast away our troubles and leave our past behind. I am certainly ready to leave this year behind. I am ready to turn over a new leaf and revel in the healing and the miracles that are sure to come.
Even if you're not Jewish, I highly recommend a ceremony or a ritual to mark the end of a period of trouble and a celebration of something new. We all need a chance to shrug off our troubles, but even more so, to celebrate the good that is to come.
I don't have much to say because I think it's already been said. From September of last year to September of this year life has been pretty crappy. Good things have certainly happened but I'm ready to start living well again. I'm ready to let go of my old ideas and my old belief systems and to be reborn. I look forward to reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. I look forward to adventure and healing and grace. I'm casting away my troubles and making room for the miracles that are yet to come.
I dream of a world where we let go of our troubles. Where we let them go because we know they are being handled as long as we keep showing up for life and remain willing to take the next right, wise action. I dream of a world where we know we can start over at any time, at any point of the day, week, or year. I dream of a world where we are in the ease and flow of life.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
The title for this post comes from my dear friend Alok Joddha Hernandez. It really resonated with me because as I reflected on his comment, “Miracles happen outside of your comfort zone,” I realized he was right. All of the miraculous, wonderful things in my life have happened after I took a risk or did something that made me uncomfortable. The most obvious/biggest example is chronicled in my book, Just a Girl from Kansas but I’ve also found it to be true with smaller experiences.
I can say unequivocally this has been the worst year of my life. That’s not to say good things haven’t happened, because they have, but this has absolutely been the most trying year to date. I’ve always had a sensitivity to noise, which I’ve mitigated with earplugs and a white noise machine, but lately my sensitivity has developed into a full-blown disorder. I startle at loud noises. I jump when doors slam. I am so on edge you’d think I was about to pull off a diamond heist.
This picture makes me think of miracles.
I had no intention of ever doing something about my sensitivity until it developed into this huge challenge. And since it cropped up I’ve been trying my usual bag of tricks: acupuncture, affirmations, homeopathy, prayer, meditation, naturopathy, surrender, etc. If it worked for me before, I figured it would work again. Except it hasn’t. I posted a very emo facebook status the other day that asked, “When you’re desperate is that when the true healing begins?” Because people, I am desperate. I am so desperate I am willing to go outside my comfort zone.
A friend mentioned to me biofeedback and I’ve been reluctant to try it because I’m unfamiliar with it, I don’t have much money, and well, new things scare me. However, I found a place in Arizona (because I’ll be there for the month of October) and I e-mailed them, mentioning I don’t have insurance so how much would this cost me? (I should mention here in case those of you reading get concerned I have Healthy SF which is like insurance just for within the city of San Francisco so it doesn’t apply in places like Arizona.) The very next day the biofeedback place called me and said, “We’ll waive the initial $100 fee, plus we’ll charge you half price, and if it takes seven sessions we’ll only charge you for five.” Da-yum.
I can’t say for sure whether this is a miracle because I haven’t done the treatment yet, but it sure feels like the beginnings of one. And all because I stepped out of my comfort zone.
I dream of a world where we all experience miracles. A world where we push ourselves outside our comfort zones because we’re ready for something different. A world where we experience love in the form of a miracle and where we keep growing and keep allowing the miracles to happen.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
In truth, I think the final frontier is the mind but the final frontier in terms of the physical world is space, in my opinion. I planned to write about this last week because Neil Armstrong died but, well, other stuff happened instead.
Armstrong's death, which also closely coincides with the rover Curiosity landing on Mars, demonstrates so clearly to me another world is probable, quite literally. I mean, a man stood on the moon, and now we're looking at pictures from MARS. This is stuff my ancestors could only dream about. Or maybe they didn't even dream about it because it seemed so farfetched. I mean think about it, we're exploring space. We're looking for other planets with living beings and stuff. THAT IS SO COOL.
I am still quite tired this week because I'm startling awake at every little noise after the break in, but today I am simply amazed by technology and what we as humans can accomplish. Somebody walked on the moon and today we're able to look at pictures of another planet from the comfort of our homes. How cool is that?!?
It's very easy for me to become blasé about stuff like this, "Oh yeah, whatever, somebody landed on the moon. Blah, blah, blah," but it's really a big achievement. We are all capable of so much individually and collectively. We have the power within us to solve our world's problems and seeing stuff like Curiosity land on Mars proves that to me.
Sometimes I feel like a peon, a speck of dust within the universe, which is probably true, but it's also true that everyone alive today is living during a pivotal time. We're witnessing unusual things, expanding our horizons, and seeing science fiction become reality. And that's pretty cool.
I dream of a world where we continue to explore our horizons. A world where we keep striving forward and achieving great things. A world where we stand in awe of what has occurred and what has yet to occur. A world where we truly experience the final frontier.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
I didn’t think I would blog this week because on my normal day, Sunday, the place where I’m housesitting was broken into. I wasn’t exactly shall we say, feeling inspired or hopeful about the future? This is going to sound incredibly narcissistic, but what changed my mind was me and my actions, and also knowing there are others like me in the world.
As you know, I’m moving (again), which dictates I put my stuff in storage at least for the month of October. Some friends kindly offered me the use of their discount at a storage facility under the false pretense that I lived at their address. At the storage facility my stomach was in knots, I felt so uncomfortable being dishonest, leading the facility to believe I live somewhere I don’t.
My friends reassured me it was fine because they were technically liable for the unit but I couldn’t go through with it, I felt awful about not being completely upfront. I told myself it was OK because I’m experiencing financial insecurity and I could really use the money, but my feelings were not assuaged. I called my recovery mentor and he said, “Rebekah, it sounds like you’re justifying.” Ding, yep, way to call me out. I totally was.
I called the facility the next day and fessed up, telling them I wasn’t being completely truthful. They thanked me for my honesty and still gave me a discount, albeit not as much as I could have gotten. I felt relieved about coming clean because the truth is I was giving into my fear. I was exclaiming to myself and to the universe that I didn’t believe that I would be taken care of, that I needed to take matters into my own hands, and that to get what I wanted it was OK to be dishonest. I was allowing myself to be swayed by desperation.
This is all to say to thieves who broke in on Sunday, “I get it. I understand feeling desperate and wanting to make sure you get yours but it’s not OK.” It is not OK that some neighborhood hoodlums have deprived me of my peace of mind. It is not OK that I’m worried for my safety. It is not OK that I startle at every little noise and my sense of home and security has been disturbed.
Furthermore I am pissed off. I am pissed off that people are feeling desperate in the first place. I am PISSED OFF there are no safety nets in our country. That we’re living in a greedy, selfish society where people feel pushed to lie, cheat, and steal to get their needs met. I am pissed off that some people are hording all the wealth to such a degree they are practically wiping their butts with money while others are dying on the street. This is NOT OK.
Capitalism is not working. It’s just not. We seem to think basic necessities like food, education, clothing, shelter, and medical care are privileges and not rights. People, that is messed up. It is time to say no. It is time to say this is not right. It is time to give daring measures like local economies, wealth caps, and cooperatives a chance. Because if the local economy is thriving, if people have all their needs met, how likely is it they’ll break into houses or mug people on the street?
I obviously can’t control other people, all can I do is control myself and change the things I can. All I can do is continue to choose faith over fear. All I can do is act with integrity in all areas of my life. All I can do is employ new measures because desperate times don’t call for desperate measures, they call for daring ones. So let’s be daring.
I dream of a world where everyone everywhere has all their needs met. A world where people feel safe in their homes. A world where wealth is shared and people are taken care of. A world where universal rights are granted and people are happy, joyous, and free.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.