Fyi, this is also a podcast.
The other day I entered into a discussion with a facebook friend about “Black Lives Matter” and “All lives matter.” His point was that all lives matter and that we should focus on unity, not division. He then proceeded to quote our spiritual teacher who said, “There is only one race in the entire world, and the name of that race is the human race. We are bound together with the same breast milk of mother Earth, and the same sun and moon are our common companions.”
I get where he and others are coming from. We all have the same needs. We all want respect, we all want to be valued. I think most of us are saying in one form or another, “What about me?” so when one group is highlighted or given more attention, the reaction of others is to say, “Yeah, but what about me?” I understand. But my question for the people who are chanting, “Unity, unity,” is how exactly do you propose we become unified? How exactly would you like us to become one human race?
I think of unity like a marriage. When both people are committed to working on themselves, to treating each other well, the marriage is great. However, when one person is abusing the other, it’s not so great. It seems to me the people advocating for unity are requesting minorities stay in a loveless, abusive marriage. I understand vows were made, but how is staying married helping anybody? Just because you’re committed to each other doesn’t mean the abuse will stop. The abuse only stops when one person says, “Enough. No more.” That to me is what’s happening with “Black Lives Matter.” Black people in this country are finally saying, “Enough. No more.”
A recent article in the Washington Post by Stacey Patton sums this up nicely. Patton said:
“Talk of unity, reconciliation, and restoring trust is a diversion from the raw, ugly, excruciatingly painful work of addressing the systemic racism that is tearing our nation apart. In their rush to avoid the real work in favor of a kumbaya fantasy comfort zone, they refuse to confront history and the truth about the present moment.
[W]hat the message of unity winds up doing is blaming communities of color for failing to assimilate, rather than acknowledging that the very fabric of this nation is built upon a diabolical, calculated, and constantly evolving system of racism.”
Far from leading to a divisive, destructive place, I see rooting out racism as the first step toward real unity. Toward identifying with only one race: the human race. I thought about citing statistics of how black people are unfairly targeted as evidence of the abuse taking place, but from my perspective it’s unnecessary because what the Black Lives Matter people are advocating will help us all, no matter what color we are. Asking for more accountability and transparency from the police can only benefit all of us. Yeah, it may be seemingly divisive right now to focus on black people but I think it’s more important to look at the big picture. Where are we heading? What is this leading toward? From my perspective, it’s leading toward one human society where we can say, “All lives matter,” and it rings true not only in rhetoric but in practice.
I dream of a world where we ferret out problems so that we may solve them. A world where we understand sometimes we have to focus on one group at a time in order to benefit us all. A world where we act as if there is only one race: the human race.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been distraught this week at the state of the world. That seems to be a common theme lately, but this week felt especially intense. I didn’t watch the videos of Alton Sterling or Philando Castile because I am far too sensitive for that, but even hearing details I sunk into a depression. I started feeling helpless and hopeless.
Instead of living in those states, I reached out to my community and asked about service projects. When the world gets like this, I think it’s important to contribute in any way we can as opposed to shaking our heads and saying, “Isn’t that awful?”
It’s easy to do – to feel something and then continue with the status quo. After all, bills need to be paid. It’s easy to fall into the mindset of, at the very end of the day, if I have any energy left over, then I might help other people.
Friends, this is no way to live and does not lead to any sort of fulfillment. My spiritual teacher says the formula for bliss is service minus information. I have been decidedly low on service and high on information, so of course I’m not feeling bliss, besides the fact there are some pretty terrible things going on in the world.
Service often gets relegated to that one weekend of the month volunteering for so-and-so, and that’s fine because it’s something. At this point, something is better than nothing. It’s excruciating for me to sit on my laurels watching what’s going on around me; I can’t do that. I’m not a person who can tolerate crowds so no, I will not be at any protests unless I get a nudge from my higher power, but it’s important for all of us to keep making the world a better place, whether that’s through after-school tutoring or leading a men’s group or planting a community garden. It may not be directly related to the Black Lives Matter movement, but that’s OK, because in my book, any sort of service leads in the direction we all want to go.
I didn’t sleep well last night so this post might be all over the place, but what I’m advocating is: beware of the cushy life. The life where it’s all about being as comfortable as possible. A life that puts us at the center of existence without thinking of others. A world where we may feel something but then carry on as if nothing has changed. I’m asking that our feelings get translated into action, into service, into helping our brothers and sisters in any way we can.
I dream of a world where we serve each other. A world where we take action to make the world a better place instead of lamenting how awful it is. A world where instead of striving for a cushy life, we strive for a blissful one.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
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The other day, a friend posed a question on facebook: “Where’s the line between hate speech and incitement? What’s an example of someone talking about white supremacy, warning against ‘race mixing mongrelization’ and takeover by international Jewry, recommending re-education or death for gays, deportation of migrants, where you could make an intellectually honest assessment that they are ‘just stating their opinion’ with no intention of recruiting?”
I love that my friend brought this up because it’s a reminder that ideas have consequences; words matter. Far from the childhood rejoinder, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,” words DO hurt. They hurt a lot, especially when those words translate into policies and practices.
In the U.S., we tout how great our country is because we have free speech. But is it really free? I’d argue that freedom of speech comes with a cost – sometimes emotionally and sometimes physically. People are literally paying with their lives sometimes; the price doesn’t get any higher than that.
I’m a journalist so in no way, shape, or form am I arguing for governmental censorship. Having governmental restrictions on what we can and cannot say usually ends in disaster. However, there is a big difference between a whistleblower exposing the dark underbelly of an institution and spewing hate. Essentially what I’m advocating for is subtlety of expression.
In yoga, there is a concept called satya. It implies action of mind and the right use of words with the spirit of welfare. Satya is often translated as benevolent truthfulness, but I think the concept is more subtle than that because it’s so relative. There are no hard and fast rules. Sometimes it’s in the best interest of all parties involved to be brutally honest and sometimes it’s better to withhold the truth. What’s really important is welfare. Will the comment help the person or hurt them? And if it will hurt them but they need to hear it, how can the comment be delivered in the gentlest way? If I’m a terrible singer and I’m convinced I’m the next American Idol, no one is doing me any favors by saying my singing voice is fantastic. To practice satya, it would be better to say, “I know you love to sing Rebekah, and that’s great! but I think you could sound even better if you took singing lessons.”
Hate speech I would argue is never about the welfare of others and always about expressing fear and insecurity. And instead of adding to the din by declaring the white supremacists to be racist jerks, to put it politely, I think we’d be better served at asking what the person’s underlying needs are and how can those be addressed. Nothing gets solved by shouting at each other and in fact, all the shouting can have dire consequences. I know that sounds terribly naive, as if I’m advocating we all sit by the campfire and sing “Kumbaye,” but I’m not. White supremacist jerks should not be allowed to call the shots or get into positions of power, and it’s our responsibility to make that so. But to really solve anything we have to address their unmet needs and those of their ilk while also practicing satya ourselves. It’s a tall order but I believe it can be done.
I dream of a world where we take into account the welfare of others, and ourselves, when we communicate. A world where we speak the truth, or withhold it, without hurting others. A world where instead of freedom of expression we practice subtlety of expression.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have to admit, I’m disheartened by the state of the world. I’m not feeling optimistic in the face of the bigotry, sexism, and xenophobia that seems to be crawling all over the place like beetles darting out from an overturned log. Right now the world seems bleak and due to become bleaker.
However, at times like these it’s important to gain some perspective. As you know, I’ve been getting into astrology and raving about the book Cosmos and Psyche. One of the things I enjoy about the book is it offers a historical look at our world through the lens of astrology. A part that’s pertinent is the reminder that every period of advancement is followed by conservative backlash. For instance, 1960-1972 was a period of empowerment, an eruption of the revolutionary impulse in virtually every area of human activity, and then the early 80s brought a systematic backlash of all the various movements that dominated the 60s.
My spiritual teacher says something similar: “[M]ovements are systaltic. If the phase of contraction is made more stringent by the application of force, a forward galloping jump occurs in the following phase of expansion. Evolution which takes place as a result of this forward galloping jump is properly called revolution. Similarly, if the phase of expansion is prolonged by the application of force, then the following phase of contraction will undergo greater inertia.”
When I look at even our most recent history I see that to be true. We are like a great hulking Frankenstein’s monster lurching toward the horizon. One foot is progressive and one foot is conservative, but each foot steps forward at one point or another. However, the monster is still always advancing. Overall, we as a society are progressing. It’s hard to see that sometimes in the face of all the ick we’re experiencing, but when I look back, I also know it to be true. As a woman, I still have more freedoms than my grandmother, and even my mother had. Yes, there’s still a lot of sexism to be sure, but overall things are progressing.
I’m going to quote my teacher again who says, “There are some people who are pessimistic. They say that the society around us is very bleak … Pessimists say this because they have never made any detailed study of human history, nor do they care to. Had they done so, they would certainly be optimistic, because if they had looked carefully at the symptoms of pause, they would have realized that significant preparations were being made for the subsequent phase of speed. So under no circumstances should human beings be pessimistic. That is why I am always an incorrigible optimist, because I know that optimism is life.”
Right now I’m honing in on the part about the subsequent phase of speed. Yes, right now things are not so great, but I’m reminding myself this is the cycle of life. Movements surge and then die. And right now I need to keep focusing on the progress that is being made and will continue to be made. I need to keep dreaming about the future because kind of like us, while Frankenstein’s monster may be slow, he does move ahead.
I dream of a world where we remember the history of human society is one of expansion followed by contraction. A world where we remember despite how it may look at any given moment, we are advancing. A world where we realize a lurch may not be a sprint, but it’s still a step forward and that’s all that counts.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sometimes I get lost in my own head. I get caught up with my emotions, my problems, etc. That doesn’t mean I’m not also aware of what’s going on with other people – I’ve had lots of feelings about what happened in Orlando, for instance – but I get trapped in the emotional whirlwind.
I texted a friend this week and he said when he’s in such a state, he tries to get in touch with the part of himself that is greater than all of that. Not in a detached, suppress-your-feelings kind of way, but in a recognition there’s another “self,” here. There’s another entity present.
In my yoga and meditation group, we talk about the existence of a witnessing entity. An all-seeing, all-knowing entity that is always present everywhere. It’s detached and unperturbed like the depths of the ocean. There’s a Self that sees the comings and goings but remains unaffected. There’s my little “I” that worries about the mundane trials and tribulations, that gets caught up in emotional storms like a boat thrashing about in the sea, and then there’s the big “I” that dwells beneath the storm, deep in the water.
When I pull back a little, when I detach a bit from my little self and connect to my big Self, I’m given some perspective. I’m reminded I’ve been through turbulent times before and I’ll go through turbulent times again. Life is a constant flow, an unending cycle of pleasure and pain. But in the grand scheme of things, all is well and all shall be well.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I am not saying there aren’t real problems in the world. There is some serious stuff going down that requires our attention and our action. I don’t think if we all sit on our meditation cushions that suddenly hungry children will get fed and the air will clear. Action is required from us. But what I am saying is we are more than our problems. We are more than our sufferings. We are more than we think we are. There is an other here. A calm, quiet voice within, if you will. And when I get in touch with that higher Self, I am able to tap into an infinite source of wisdom, kindness, and perspective that will aid me in every endeavor. When I tap into that source, I tap into the part that’s me-er than me, and from there, I can handle anything.
I dream of a world where we remember we are more than the sum of our parts. A world where we remember there is another Self with us; a Self that graces us with kindness, wisdom, perspective, and inspiration. A world where we remember we’ve been through trouble before and we’ll go through trouble again, but not to worry because we are never alone or helpless. The force that guides the stars guides us too.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I want to feel special, chosen, exalted. Unfortunately, I’ve been operating under the misconception it’s other people’s responsibility to do that for me. I’ve been relying on other people to make me feel special and guess what? It’s not working.
I know it’s not working because people tell me how special I am, how wonderful, etc. and I can’t take the compliments in. I don’t believe the person because as much as they love and care for me, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. I want to be the specialist special snowflake there is. I want to be the best, the favorite, the most loved. And I have some shame about that. Particularly because I’ve been told over and over again that everyone is special, no one is more unique than anyone else, etc. But in my mind, saying everyone is special is the same as saying no one is special, myself included. I’ve been operating from a scarcity mindset: “There is only so much special to go around!” but in truth, that’s not the case.
I think about a story I heard from Marianne Williamson on beauty. She walked into her niece’s bedroom one day and found the girl and her friends trash talking a supermodel, nitpicking every flaw as to evidence why the supermodel wasn’t beautiful. Marianne gently told the girls, no, the supermodel is beautiful, but so are you. The supermodel’s beauty doesn’t detract from theirs. There is enough beauty to go around. If that can be said about beauty, why can’t it also be said about uniqueness?
I also think about a few blogposts I wrote: “We are What We Seek,” and “Why We Matter.” In “We are What We Seek,” I was reminded the things I seek externally I already have internally. In this instance, no person will ever make me feel special if I don’t tell that to myself, if I don’t believe it already. In “Why We Matter,” I wrote about how we are unique manifestations of a Cosmic Consciousness, here to co-creatively birth something that otherwise would not have been in existence. Doesn’t that also mean we’re special? No person like you or me has ever existed before nor will they exist in the future.
The bottom line here is we are each divine children of the universe. None of us is more loved than another but instead of being loved equally, I think we’re loved differently. Our unique talents and gifts should be praised and appreciated but they should not be placed above anyone else’s because each of us is valued, important, and precious.
I dream of a world where we know we are each special because we each are different. A world where we understand we are a one-of-a-kind divine being who has never existed before and will never exist again. A world where we understand feeling special is an inside job and a gift we give to ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
One of my favorite quotes is by Marianne Williamson who says, “Romantic relationships are like getting a PhD in spirituality.” Preach sister. However, for me, every relationship is like getting a PhD in spirituality. There is not one relationship that doesn’t teach me something, even if it’s a relationship with an animal. Why is that though?
I’m pretty sure it’s due to my upbringing in a tantric practice. The psycho-spiritual tantra I practice uses everything as a vehicle for liberation. It also uses symbols to approach something that is ultimately beyond symbolization. This manifests itself primarily through relationship.
To back up a bit and to give some context, the tantric worldview is one in which a universally abounding macrocosmic Consciousness comes to know Itself through each of Its microcosmic reflecting forms – not only in humans or animals, but in plants, planets, and stars. The Consciousness in all things may lie seemingly dormant in something like a rock, but in humans, the Consciousness becomes self-aware and allows us to actively co-create in this great “knowing,” so to speak. What that means is we as humans come to know and understand ourselves symbolically through the form of others.
Boiling that concept down, people, but not just people, are teachers. I’m sure you’ve already found this to be true. I bring this up and find this concept to be so important, that I learn about myself through what’s outside of me, because it gives everything a different spin. It means other people, places, and things are not conquests, are not objects that exist outside of me, are not around solely for my pleasure and enjoyment, but rather are me. This worldview explains why it makes sense to say, “We’re all one,” because I learn about me through you, and you learn about you through me. There is no “out there.”
In other words, the whole world is a reflection of me in different forms, like a potter using clay. There are bowls and vases, but they’re both made out of clay.
I’m not sure I can convey why this concept is so profound for me, but there’s something about recognizing you are an expression of me, that we are not separate from each other, that’s mind boggling. It means when I see a homeless person, I don’t view them as “other,” I view them as me. Can you imagine what the world would be like if we all felt that way? If we saw refugees as us? If we viewed nature as a different expression of ourselves? Would we be so cavalier to inflict harm? To cut down all the trees, to drain lakes, to build high fences, to abuse our brethren? Somehow I think not. I know this to be true because I’ve seen a new way of being and I have that dream for all of us.
I dream of a world where we view each other as ourselves. A world where we understand we come to know ourselves through a myriad of forms. A world where we treat everything around us with reverence and love. A world where we view that which is outside of us not as things for the taking, but as beings to behold.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I want to make an impact in the world. I want to use my gifts in the service of others. In my mind, if I’m not famous, if I don’t have 10 million Youtube followers, then I’m not making a difference. I’m conflating fame with significance. How could I not? When a simple tweet from a celebrity can launch someone’s career or shine the spotlight on an important issue, of course I’m under the impression fame and significance are linked.
I realize a person doesn’t have to be famous in order to make a difference – there are many teachers, activists, doctors, etc. who do great work in the world and no one knows their name, but the thing is, I’m not a teacher, activist, or doctor. I’m a writer. And in my world, if people aren’t reading what I’m writing, then I might as well launch my posts into a black hole for all the good they’re doing.
I talked about this with my dear writer friend Amal, who doesn’t have this issue. He reminded me about Herman Melville, who was never a financially successful writer, by the way, even though we have all heard of his book Moby Dick. Did you know Moby Dick was a commercial failure and published to mixed reviews? And also that it wasn’t until the late 1910s, early 1920s, which is almost 20 years after his death, that people started to talk about him? Moby Dick was written more than 150 years ago and we’re still studying it in school! Talk about significant.
I’m not saying I’m Herman Melville because I’m not, but what I’m coming to understand more deeply is the notion of artists as pioneers, something my spiritual teacher propounds. What does that mean, to be a pioneer? It means often a person won’t be appreciated in their time, that they’re on the forefront of society, staking out new territory to pave the way for future generations. What this means is just because a person isn’t recognized, isn’t popular or famous, doesn’t mean they’re not doing good work.
That sounds obvious I know, but right now our society places so much emphasis on social capital. “How many Twitter followers do you have? Who regramed you on Instagram? Did anyone share your Facebook post?” Right now it seems easy to become famous from your living room and when 1.4 million people like a Facebook post, they turn into an important person, at least in my mind. But will any of them be remembered in 150 years? Will I?
The ultimate point I’m making in a roundabout way is it’s not my job to worry about fame. Fame doesn’t necessarily mean a person is making a difference, it just means people are paying attention to them. It’s my job as an artist and writer to keep being a pioneer, to keep transmitting messages and inspiration that I receive, and to surrender the fruits of my labor. It’s not my job to attract Facebook followers or to cultivate a name for myself. It’s my job to use my gifts regardless of how much attention I receive. And not just my job, everyone’s job. We are all special and unique human beings who may never get the recognition we crave, but that doesn’t mean what we’re doing isn’t worthwhile or that it’s insignificant.
I dream of a world where we understand fame doesn’t necessarily translate into significance. A world where we realize we have no idea what the future holds or what the fruits of our actions will be. A world where we keep doing the work required of us, letting go of the outcomes.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other week, I ended early with my writing coaching client (which never happens) and conducted my usual grocery shopping. As I walked out of the grocery store, I ran into someone I literally haven’t seen or talked to in close to five years. It turns out, a few days prior he mentioned me to his girlfriend and voila, we ran into each other.
Even better, during the course of our conversation I said some things it seemed he needed to hear so in many ways I felt like a messenger. I walked away from our encounter on a high, marveling at the magic and the mystery of the universe.
Some people would say that interaction was a coincidence, a happy accident. I don’t view it that way at all. My spiritual teacher says everything is incidental. “For each and every incident there is some cause,” he says. We may or may not know the cause, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.
He gives the example of an earthquake saying perhaps a huge stone took 10 million years to move from one place to another, but when it fell, the action took only a few seconds and caused the earth to shake. The cause took 10 million years to come to fruition but there was a cause for the earthquake, it didn’t just “happen.”
When I look at the synchronistic turn of events from the other week, I am reminded there is a divine intelligence in place. There is some force at work that configured things just so, allowing me to meet this friend. If I hadn’t left my coaching session early, if my friend walked into the grocery store five minutes later, etc. our meeting wouldn’t have occurred. I am truly in awe of all the moving parts that needed to align in order for us to run into each other.
This story comforts me because at the moment there are a few areas of my life where I feel stuck and hopeless. Where I don’t see how they can or will change. I am convinced they will stay in their current state for the rest of my days. But then I think about this “chance” encounter with my friend and am reminded things can and do change unexpectedly. And not only that, there is also a guiding presence in my life, overseeing everything.
If I can run into a friend out of the blue, is there also a chance these areas of life can also change? That things won’t stay the same? That something else unexpected will show up in my life to shake things up? Like the stone that took 10 million years to fall, maybe there are events slowly, slowly unfolding and when they drop will shake the ground beneath my feet. I find that both terrifying and exciting. I cling to the notion though the universe is working for my benefit, that it ultimately wants to see me succeed.
I dream of a world where we realize everything is incidental. A world where we realize we may not know the initial cause but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. A world were we remember there is a guiding force in our life that arranges circumstances and events for our benefit.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.