“When I publish my book, I’ll be happy. When I marry a gorgeous guy, I’ll be happy. When I finish all my work, I’ll be happy.” When, when, when. I know I’ve written about happiness before, but now I’m deepening my understanding of it.
Lately I feel like I have a split personality disorder because there is the voice of my ego – the one that tells me I can only be happy once I achieve certain things – and then there’s the voice of love. I’m discovering another big lie I tell myself is happiness lies in the future. That happiness is contingent on the presence of certain things. Rev. Michael Beckwith refers to this as happiness on the layaway plan. I’m doing things now so I can be happy later.
What? How does that even make sense? By that token my happiness will always remain in the future, or like Abraham Hicks says, I’ll be happy for a second before I’m focused on my next “want.” What a horrible way to live. I mean, yes, I think it’s important to have goals and desires, but to always place my happiness in the future seems like a sad state of affairs.
I think this is the crux of living in the now because ultimately only “now” exists. If I constantly think I’ll be happy tomorrow, I will never be happy because tomorrow never comes, as my dad likes to say. There is only now.
I guess I’m waking up to the fact I can be happy anytime, in anyplace, during any situation. I’ve heard tale of extremely poor people who still seem incredibly happy and at peace. Those writing about the impoverished are often baffled as to why. “These people have nothing! They’re living in a shack! Why are they so happy?” I think this is it. They’ve learned the art of living in the now. They’ve learned the art of gratitude and appreciate. They understand happiness is in the present.
Tonight I also started contemplating the dangers of trying to “make” someone else happy. Is that even possible? Is that even something I want to strive for? It seems like an awfully burdensome road, constantly trying to make other people happy. It seems much wiser to just allow people to create their own happiness and hope I can come along for the ride. What a relief. To no longer believe I’m responsible for anyone else’s happiness. To recognize the best I can do is follow a moral code, learn from my mistakes, and apologize when I hurt someone. And really, that’s it. I am only responsible for my own emotions, and usually not even then.
I’m getting a little off track here but I guess I’m saying there is nothing in my future that will make me happier than I am now. I only think there is. Having said that, yes, it’s important to follow divine guidance and what my heart says because that puts me in alignment with my higher power, but I don’t have to wait to do that. I can move closer and closer to infinite love and peace each and every moment just by getting quiet. By expressing my innermost thoughts and feelings. Because when you come down to it, isn’t that what happiness really is? To feel love? Who says I have to wait?
I dream of a world where we feel happy now, where we feel peace now. A world where we understand happiness comes from gratitude and appreciation. A world where we reach up and grab the happy feelings because they are there for the taking. A world where we feel love both internally and externally.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been lying to myself for quite some time now. I’ve believed something that is blatantly not true but I’m resentful it’s false. You see, I honestly believed if I was a good girl, if I behaved, I would get everything I wanted. I believed God was like Santa Claus who rewarded the virtuous and punished the wicked. If I ate all my vegetables and treated people with kindness I would get a Barbie Dream House. What do you mean that’s not true?
This belief could also be called “entitlement,” which is particularly insidious because it taints my relationship with a higher power. Entitlement coats the relationship with resentment. It enrolls me in a game no one else is playing.
I started thinking about a world where a Santa Claus God did exist. What it would look like and who I would be. Spoiled and selfish for one. All I would do is take, take, take. Ask for more from my higher power. There would be no love, there would be only ego. My ego would overcome everything, consume everything until ultimately it destroyed the world. Would I care about the environment? About other people? Probably not. Life would be about me and my desires and how they can be satisfied. I would only be good and kind as a means to an end.
Here is what I understand now. If life operated the way I wanted it to, where I could bargain with God, I would never find the divinity resting within me. I would never understand how we’re all connected. I would never move closer to the light. How can I merge with God if I feel a separation? That’s what “merge” means. No distinction. If God constantly resided outside of me I would never become enlightened because there would always be two entities: me and God. I’m not sure I’m making any sense but I guess I’m saying in order to move closer to the light I have to become the light. I have to become divine. I have to become my higher power and I cannot do so if I think I’m anything other than light, love and divinity. So really this Santa Claus God complex is just another ego construct.
Here’s the other thing I realized. I am gifted by the universe not because I’m a good girl who gives up her seat for the elderly, but because I am loved. My higher power loves me so much I am bestowed with the things I desire. That is the true meaning of a gift. It’s an act of love. I may be bargaining with my higher power but my higher power is not bargaining with me. HP just loves me and wants to show that love by giving me a gorgeous apartment in San Francisco, a job I enjoy and a plethora of friends. My higher power wants me to have what I want just because I’m loved. So the resentment I’ve been carrying around? The good-girl complex? They’re all for naught. Entitlement and Santa Claus are both lies.
Lastly I’d like to leave you with a saying a friend of mine has. He said when he asks his higher power for something he gets three answers: “Yes,” “Yes but not now,” or, “No but I have something better for you.” Nothing ever comes to me as a means of punishment. It doesn’t matter how well I behave. That’s not why I’m getting my heart’s desires. They are coming to me because I am knowingly or unknowingly riding a current of love.
I dream of a world where we stop bargaining for what we want. A world where we realize we do not control what gifts we receive. A world where we understand gifts are tokens of love, especially when they come to us from a higher power. A world where we let ourselves be loved just as we are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Sunday it occurred to me my body is my friend, not my enemy. For years I heard the expression, “The body is a temple,” but I never knew what it meant. It sounds so hokey. “The body is a temple.” Ok. Right. I’ll refrain from drugs and alcohol and make sure to eat my vegetables. Done. Except not done. Not only is it important what I put into my body but my attitude. For years my body and I have been locked in combat. I’ve tried to beat it into submission to give me rock hard abs and toned triceps. Not to mention clear skin and smooth hair.
For years I yelled at my body for everything: for being too flabby, for causing me pain, for not working the way I wanted it to. “Why can’t you just do what I want and look the way I want you to look?!?” I thought I had to beat up my body to show it who’s in charge. On Sunday it occurred to me I’ve been approaching this all wrong. My body is not an enemy to war with, but rather my closest ally. You see, it’s just responding to my cues. Packing on weight? It’s probably because I’m feeling afraid and want an extra layer of protection. Breaking out? It’s probably because my liver needs a good cleanse. Everything that happens in or to my body is a signal. A signal of what I’m doing. Of how I’m feeling. Even my sprained ankle comes down to direction. As in, moving in a new one. I sprained it and then two weeks later got the notice I was getting laid off. It’s like my body knew in advance I was about to start a new phase.
Everything is related. Everything is interconnected. My body is not separate from me. We are one and the same. It’s only doing its job. It’s not my body’s fault when I get a cold. It’s mine. “Fault” even is a little strong. It’s more like I did x, y, z and the repercussion is illness. Why did I get sick in the first place? Could it be because I’m overtired and craving a rest? Tada! My body orchestrates that.
On Sunday it occurred to me I need to start treating my body with respect. Not because it’s a sacred temple I enter every now and again to pay homage to the gods, but because it’s my best friend. It’s my closest companion. I love my body and so my body deserves to be treated with love. It deserves a good cleanse. It deserves rest. It deserves my attention. Instead of shouting over what my body is trying to convey, perhaps I can listen instead. What would that be like? Living in greater harmony with my body?
I dream of a world where we treat our physical selves with love. A world where we respect our bodies and treat them as friends. A world where we know our bodies are doing the best they can, following our lead. A world where we live in harmony with ourselves and each other.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This past week I was in New Hampshire visiting friends and seeing one of my personal heroes, Elizabeth Gilbert speak about her new book. During that time I came to realize just how much I seek love and approval from others. How someone else’s approval is so valuable to me, I’m willing to do almost anything to get it.
In my last blogpost I wrote about perfection not equaling love. This week I’m still decompressing that notion, but instead of striving for perfection to gain love and approval, I don’t want to make any mistakes so love and approval will be revoked. A subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless.
Here’s a true story. My friends’ bathroom is in their bedroom, so that means at night I had to tiptoe past their sleeping bodies ninja-style in order to use the toilet. I felt absolutely terrified of waking them up, so much so I considered whether I could hold my bladder until daylight. (I couldn’t and didn’t. That doesn’t mean my heart didn’t race every time I crossed the threshold of their doorway though.) I honestly wondered if I woke them up if they would like me any less. Would my love get taken away? Would they decide I committed an offense so grand as to be unworthy of their friendship? My response to that is, “Gurl, you trippin.'” But it’s there. I felt that way. And it extends not just to friends but to strangers.
Sitting on the airplane flying back to SF, I asked my seatmates to get up multiple times so I could use the restroom. Each time I asked myself, “Do you really have to go? Can you hold it?” just because I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. I want you to love me so much I’m willing to go to any lengths to get it. Silly Rebekah, don’t you know love is given freely, it’s not something you earn because you’re a good girl? I guess I don’t. I’m still overcoming my childhood notions that wearing the right clothes or saying the right things will “make” people love me. And I so desperately want people to love me. So much so that I consider not going to the bathroom. Poor me, poor everyone who contorts themselves just so they can feel loved. What would the world be like if we all experienced love and approval unconditionally? Beautiful, amazing, divine.
After going to the bathroom for the third time in two hours at my friends’ apartment, I started journaling, thinking about the elements I can control. Obviously I can’t continue to tiptoe through life trying my hardest to never make a mistake ever because that’s impossible. What I can do is affirm, “I release my need for others’ validation.” Oh my goodness. The freedom. To be able to show up in life as my authentic self, carefree and confident is the most amazing feeling. I cannot guarantee my friends will love me forever — although I’d like to think they will — but I can release my need for their constant approval. And I can work on the two relationships that will stay with me through the end of time: the one with myself and the one with my higher power.
Is there any mistake I can ever make that will result in making me no longer love myself? No. There’s not. I may not fully believe that in this moment but I want to, oh how I want to. And it’s possible, it’s all a matter o training. It requires I look myself in the mirror and say, “Rebekah, I love you no matter what.” If I say it often enough I will believe it. Affirmations are like that.
The other relationship, the one with my higher power, thankfully already feels full of unconditional love (thank God). I already feel loved probably because nine months ago I redefined my higher power and the relationship I have. I see the love the universe has for me reflected in a thousand ways. From catching all my flights on time and arriving early in New Hampshire despite the snowpocalypse in the Northeast, to getting job opportunities out of the blue. The more I see that love, the more it comes back to me. So honestly, I don’t need to run around squawking, “Do you love me? What about you?” because there are two places where it’s secured forever and always: myself and my higher power.
I dream of a world where we love ourselves unconditionally. A world where we understand love is not a prize, but rather a gift. A world where we no longer seek approval in the eyes of another and instead work on giving that to ourselves. A world where we allow ourselves to make mistakes because unconditional love will never be taken away. A world where we rest easy because we feel sheltered by the Supreme.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Some of you already know this, but as a child I went through some pretty severe peer rejection. I had almost no friends and spent much of my time reading or taking walks by myself. I mostly played games with my sister, five years my junior. We used to choreograph dances in our living room and perform them for our parents. We crafted elaborate skits and created props out of cardboard. I loved it, but I didn’t choreograph dances or craft elaborate skits with kids my own age. I made friends easily but I couldn’t keep them because I was too “weird.” Not because I ate paste, but because I had different values from those around me. I was a vegetarian who didn’t eat onions, garlic or mushrooms. I believed in reincarnation and karma and love as the pervading force in this world. The people around me did not. They told me I was going to hell because I didn’t believe in Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior. They made fun of my lunch every day exclaiming, “Ewwww! What’s that?!?” My brother got the worst of it – his peers teased him so mercilessly they threw meat at him. I seemed normal enough in my appearance, but when kids peeled past my outer façade, they inevitably stopped calling, stopped inviting me to parties, just stopped.
In the midst of this, I picked up the idea if I was perfect people would love me. If I never made a mistake in soccer practice or on a test, then people would see how normal I was. If I acted just like everybody else, then I would be loved. I would never be able to think or believe in what those around me did (unless I moved), but at least on the outside I could fit in. Thus perfectionism was born. For me when I make a mistake, no matter how small, I have to quell a bit of panic because my subconscious/unconscious mind equates mistakes with isolation and abandonment. It’s silly, really. Just because I sent the wrong e-mail attachment to a contact today doesn’t mean all the love in my life will be taken away from me. It doesn’t mean anything, actually.
I’ve written before about mistakes being the zest of life, which I think is true. I honestly believe mistakes are part of the learning process, and nothing beats the expansive feeling that comes from learning. At the same time, I’ve felt a desire to be perfect right out of the gate. To know everything immediately. To be a star pupil. To be an award-winning martial artist. To know how to invest my money and become a millionaire. I want to know right now and I want to do it perfectly. Otherwise you won’t love me.
When I examine that belief and idea it starts to crumble because perfection does not guarantee love. I graduated number three in my class and my peers didn’t love me more. I called a perfect show as a stage manager and no one seemed to notice or really care. Even when I do things “perfectly” it doesn’t seem to make a difference. And you know? It never will.
People will never love me more because I’m an all-star. People will never love me more because I’m famous. People love me for who I am, not what I accomplish. I am allowed to make mistakes. I am allowed to send the wrong e-mail attachment because there is no inverse relationship between the mistakes I make and how much I’m loved. Thus perfectionism, I bid thee adieu.
I dream of a world where we realize love is associated with our insides, not our accomplishments. A world where we experience unconditional love all the time. A world where we allow ourselves to make mistakes because we know love will still be there. I dream of a world where we let go of our outdated beliefs and ideas because they no longer serve us. A world where we feel loved now and always.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I almost don’t want to tell you this because it’s kind of embarrassing. I don’t want you to judge me or think I’m ungrateful for the people in my life. But what I’m about to discuss is also indicative of a deeper issue, which I think might be valuable to share.
Have you heard of the five languages of love? Gary Chapman says there are five ways people give and receive love: words of affirmation, physical touch, acts of service, receiving gifts and quality time. Chapman says we won’t feel loved until we receive love in our primary language. My primary language is words of affirmation. I want those I love to compliment me, tell me why they love me, write me heartfelt cards and poems. This is not me fishing for comments, but rather divulging why I’ve felt frustrated of late.
For the past two months I’ve felt upset people haven’t been expressing their love for me the way I want them to. Being the person I am, I conveyed this need but nothing’s changed. My friends are still showing me how much they care via the other languages – not words of affirmation. And it bugs the hell out of me. “Why can’t you just do what I want? Is that so hard? Love me the way I want you to!” I keep secretly hoping they’ll change, but they aren’t. So really, my choices are to either accept them for who they are, and how they express their affection, or I can ditch them. Let’s get real though, I love these people. I’m not going to stop being friends with them because they don’t tell me how awesome I am. Strangely, even knowing this I’ve still felt upset. I’ve still wanted them to what I wanted them to do.
Pondering my feelings last night I’ve realized this is yet another way I’m trying to exert control. The important thing to remember is I’m receiving love. Does it really matter how I’m receiving it? Reflecting on my control issues, I’m finally allowing people to be who they are and express themselves how they see fit. Control is a sneaky fellow because it comes up in all aspects of my life. When I allow people and the universe to do its thing is when the magic happens.
For instance, I was offered a part-time copyediting gig (yay!) but I also need to make more money to pay for my expenses. I decided freelancing was the answer, and more specifically, freelancing for a specific publication. It didn’t pan out. My controlling nature wanted to take over and “fix things.” I had to take a step back because I realized when I try to dictate how things are going to work with both love and money I disallow the universe from working its magic. There are INFINITE ways for me to receive money. Why does it have to come from freelancing for X publication? Similarly, why does love have to be in the form of words?
Sometimes I think life works like Best Buy – I go in, pick what I want, pay for it, the end. I get exactly what I want, the way I want it, when I want it. But life isn’t like that – at least it hasn’t been for me.
Wants and needs are natural. I’m allowed to ask for what I want but the “when” and “how” are out of my hands. When I try to dictate life according to my specifications I end up feeling demoralized. The best thing I can do is say, “I want love, financial abundance and success,” and then sit back and watch the universe go to work. And wouldn’t you know it? In my e-mail inbox this morning someone messaged me and asked me if I’d like to freelance for them. The universe provides, I just have to let it. People love me, I just have to let them.
I dream of a world where we are more allowing. A world where we ask for what we want and then let go. A world where we let the universe do its thing, knowing what we want will come to us. A world where we understand the world works in mysterious ways and that’s what it makes it so fun. A world where we recognize we are not in control because there are greater forces at work. A world where we accept what we receive, no matter how it gets to us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The alternative title to this post could be, “Resistance to change.” I’m at a place right now where I’m happy where I am. Really, really happy. I wake up in the morning feeling rested and well. I accomplish what I want to accomplish and I’m still getting paid. (Thank you severance package!) I’m pleased with the progress I’ve made on my personal growth and I don’t particularly want to go any further, thanks. You know why? Because I don’t want it to be hard. I don’t want to break down anymore of my psychological barriers or plow ahead. I want to languish where I am because where I am is so good! (Who says it won’t get even better?)
I’m basing my resistance to change on past experience I’ve had of breaking down my barriers. It’s been challenging and full of hard work and determination. And I just don’t to go through that again. I don’t want to look at all my issues or face any more psychological patterns. I’ve had enough! I’ve gone far enough! Unfortunately for my ego, I haven’t gone far enough. I cannot stand still. Life is about movement. You either progress or you regress, that’s just the nature of the world.
I’m resistant to change probably because I’m afraid of what it might be like. Of all the hardship I might go through. Of the struggle that’s possible. It’s like looking at a mountain and thinking, “Do I really have to climb up that thing to see the view at the top? Isn’t there an easier, softer way?” No. There’s not. I would LOVE to find the easier, softer way. I would LOVE to engage in a quick fix to get what I want. None of this hard work business. None of this climbing up the mountain. Sadly, it’s not possible. As I’ve heard time and again, the easiest way out is through.
I’m reminded of something a friend said to me about growth and change, “Who said it has to be hard?” (I don’t know, the world?) Is that really true though? Do I have to brace myself for hardship? Instead of a storm maybe I’ll experience a drizzle.
I read a post recently on Love-olution about how sometimes people use the phrase, “I’m only human,” as a get-out-of-jail-free card, as a way of not being accountable or making forward progress. The blogger asked what would happen if we didn’t accept we are “merely human?” If we lived up to our potential as divine beings? I think she poses a great question because according to my beliefs that’s exactly what we’re here for. We’re here to move beyond limitation and lack and to embrace our divine nature. We’re here to merge with Parama Parusa, Source energy or whatever label you want to give it. We’re on this Earth precisely to learn we are not “merely human,” and thus I cannot stay where I am, metaphorically speaking. I have to keep going.
I will say though I’d rather feel excited about the change in me. I’d rather look forward to the growth ahead instead of feeling trepidation about how difficult I perceive it will be. Because who said it will be hard? Maybe it will just be. Maybe I can breakdown my walls and just accept the experience rather than qualifying the process as difficult, challenging or tough. Maybe like all things, it is what it is.
I cannot change the fact I will either evolve or devolve but I can change my perception. Instead of bracing myself for hardship I want to welcome change with open arms. I want to say, “Yippee! Life just gets better and better! With every passing day I move closer to an infinite loving consciousness!” Instead of responding, “Oy vey, there’s still so much further for me to go,” I’d like to say, “Sweet! There’s so much left for me to experience!” because there is. There really is.
I dream of a world where we understand the point of power is in our mind. A world where we understand we can change how we perceive growth. A world where we dismantle our fears and our outdated thinking little by little. A world where we experience joy along the path of progress. A world where we embrace change, recognizing change is not scary, we just think it is. I dream of a world where we look forward to what’s ahead knowing all is well in our world.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“It’s all my fault. I’m to blame. Why didn’t I do it differently? Why didn’t I know better?” I loooove to play the blame game. I love to have that dialogue in my head (more like diatribe). On Tuesday I went to the physical therapist and looked at myself in the mirror. As I did so I felt like I was to blame for everything wrong with my body. I’m the reason my knees are knobby. I’m the reason my hips hurt. I’m the reason my hair is scraggly. And to top it off, I received outside reinforcement. My physical therapist said to me if I hadn’t sat in the “w” position when I was a child (with my feet behind me and my knees in front of me) my knees would be “normal.” Or my hips wouldn’t hurt if I strengthened my pelvic core.
I’m not blaming her because Lord knows I do that enough to myself. What I’m doing though is asking myself how I benefit. How do I benefit from taking the blame for everything? What do I get from finding fault? The answer is nothing (surprise, surprise). The feeling of blame doesn’t help me change anything. It doesn’t help me solve my problem.
The blame game, especially when I play by myself, keeps me stuck in the problem. I’d rather live in the solution. And sometimes there is no solution. That’s where serenity comes in. Accepting the things I cannot change and changing the things I can. I can’t change the past. I can’t change how my knees grew in. So maybe I can stop blaming myself for how they stick out and instead start accepting and appreciating them for getting me where I want to go. I can choose to love and accept myself as I am or continue to play the blame game. Take me out coach, I’m done.
I used to think blame was a great motivator. “If I chastise myself enough I’ll do something!” Um, no. If I chastise myself enough I’ll feel bad, that’s it. My parents loved to say to me as a child, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” I don’t know if that’s technically true because I catch an awful lot of flies with apple cider vinegar, but I think the concept is sound. Love is a much better motivator than fear. I would do absolutely anything for the people I love. Not so much for the people I fear.
I guess what I’m saying in a roundabout way is blame doesn’t serve me. Blame gives me pain rather than serenity. And serenity is what I’m shooting for these days. I can’t fix my joints but I can strengthen my pelvic core and get a haircut. And I can also look myself in the mirror and accept what I see because it’s much easier to change your mind than it is to change your body. Cheaper too.
I dream of a world where we cut blame out of the equation. A world where we understand blame is useless because it doesn’t help us to solve anything. A world where we each experience serenity, accepting the things we cannot change and having the courage to change the things we can. A world where we live in the solution, asking what we can do about the situation. A world where we know practice love and compassion not only for each other but for ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
All I can say today is I’m excited. I’m excited by the prospects a new year brings. I’m excited by the possibilities, by the goodness that’s up ahead. I’m excited about the world and what I see before me. I’m excited about 2011.