For the past five days I’ve lived in a bubble. Members of my yoga and meditation group gathered in Malibu where we sang, danced, meditated, and learned from each other. Gazing at the ocean surrounded by so much beauty and love, it was easy to forget the real world. And then I flew home.
Re-entry startled and unnerved me, raw and sensitive as I am running on a few hours of sleep. On the drive home, I saw police officers tackling a man on the shoulder of the highway. It wasn’t me being chased, but my heart started pounding nonetheless. On the same ride, I saw hearts painted on the roof of a building. All of these things coexist.
I don’t know what this year holds. I’m guessing it will be a mix of things, just like my ride home. There will be happy things and scary things and sad things and awesome things. For some of us there will be an unequal mix. But feeling my heart pound watching someone else’s life, reminds me we are all in this together. We all belong to each other and we are all responsible for each other. We are not as separate as we’d like to believe. On the same car ride home, the word “one” also caught my attention from a passing sign. It seemed to me a reminder of that fundamental truth.
As we start this new year, I want to quote my spiritual teacher because the message seems relevant. He said:
Just as the advent of the purple dawn is inevitable at the end of the cimmerian darkness of the interlunar night, exactly in the same way I know that a gloriously brilliant chapter will also come after the endless reproach and humiliation of the neglected humanity of today.
Those who love humanity and those who desire the welfare of living beings should be vigorously active from this very moment, after shaking off all lethargy and sloth, so that the most auspicious hour arrives at the earliest.
Let us all greet the new dawn. Let us all experience a gloriously brilliant chapter. And let us all work to bring that “auspicious hour” sooner rather than later.
I dream of a world where we remember we’re all connected. A world where we remember we all belong to each other. A world where we work together to create a glorious and brilliant life that we all wish to lead.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m spending time with my family right now so I’m editing/recycling some old posts of mine.
Right now it’s Christmas and Hanukkah, which I love. In times like these, I think we need to be reminded of what unites us instead of divides us.
Maybe it’s because I’m Jewish, but to me, Jesus seems like a mythical figure on the order of Zeus or Apollo. He lived so long ago that sometimes I take for granted he actually existed. He was born, he bled, he defecated. Jesus was a human being. Yes, an amazing human being, but he still existed, was still blood and bones the same as you and I, which astounds me. Fun fact, Sir Isaac Newton was also born on December 25. Newton wasn’t Jesus, but he was still a remarkable guy.
Why am I mentioning Newton’s birth? Primarily because when I hear about incredible human beings like Jesus, Newton, Albert Einstein, or Martin Luther King Jr., I somehow put them above me. I think to myself, “Those were amazing human beings, but I could never do anything like they did. I could never accomplish what they did.” I somehow don’t believe they felt the things I felt or struggled the way I struggled. But that’s not true. They were people just like us. They had fears and failures just like us. Nothing separates us.
We’re all made of the same material. We all come from the same source. We are all light, which brings me to Hanukkah. One of the principles of the holiday I like the most is that one candle may kindle the light of many others and yet lose none of its own light. Right now I think it’s important to remember great people of the past, to remember we are like them, may accomplish what they’ve accomplished, and also we can be candles in the dark that kindle the light of many others.
My spiritual path is about using everything as a vehicle for liberation or enlightenment. About not running from feelings and tough times, and yet always remembering there is something more to me. Something outside the drama, the ups and downs, a witnessing part of me that remains unaffected and emits a light that can never be diminished. It’s my job to keep growing that light, to keep remembering its presence, and to kindle that light in others.
We need to keep kindling that light in others so we create a world we wish to see. A world where we live amongst each other in harmony. A world where we celebrate with each other and mourn with each other. A world where we aspire to great heights, accomplishing what we burn to accomplish like people in the past. A world where we remember who we really are — light beings.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other day, a monk from my yoga and meditation group posted a Facebook live video about remaining unperturbed in the face of external stimuli. His comment struck me primarily because I’m not unperturbed. I’m disturbed by every little thing. When the news is bad, I feel bad. When the news is good, I feel good. My mood of late seems to be tied to what’s going on in the world. This is not how I want to live.
Tying my mood to anything external is a dangerous business because things in the external world are so changeable. I think it’s important to know what’s going on in society, but to plunge from high to low at the drop of a hat is exhausting. My spiritual teacher advocates mental balance and equipoise and said, “We must maintain our mental balance and remain indifferent to both praise and slander, to both joy and sorrow.”
I’ve heard this concept before, to remain unaffected by what people say because our self-esteem and self-worth comes from within, but I haven’t thought about the concept much in terms of the news. Seems wise, especially as the news these days runs from bizarre to baffling. How to accomplish this though?
The short answer is to turn inward. To keep remembering what’s really important, to hold tight to our innermost presence. About this process my teacher said, “The charming allurements of the external world no longer keep their minds in thrall. The dazzling splendor of form and color, their glittering attraction, no longer evokes any response in the innermost recesses of their minds. The radiance of the colorful world and the effulgence of their inner life become one.”
Yes please. I’d love for the “radiance of the colorful world and the effulgence of [my] inner life” to become one. That sounds delightful. I’d like to remain unassailed by circumstances, for my mind to remain steady regardless of what’s happening externally. I’m pretty sure the only way to do this is to keep aligning my will with my higher power’s. To take shelter under the benevolent and loving force that pervades the universe and to keep letting go over and over again.
I dream of a world where we maintain mental balance. A world where external circumstances don’t affect us so drastically. A world where we keep turning inward over and over again. A world where we take shelter under the unaffected and unssailed power that’s greater than us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
During the earlier part of this week, my knee hurt. It could be because I tweaked it or slept funny, but I like to cover all my bases so I checked out what Louise Hay said in her book, You Can Heal Your Life. She said knee troubles have to do with inability to bend, fear, inflexibility, and not giving in. The antidote is forgiveness, understanding, compassion, and affirming, “I bend and flow with ease, and all is well.”
Louise Hay, I tell ya, she knows her stuff. This week what have I been dealing with? Why, lack of forgiveness of course! I’m harboring anger and resentment toward a few people. I’m so pissed at them, but at this point my anger is no longer serving me – in fact, it’s harming me. Realizing my knee troubles stem from holding onto a grudge shows me I have to let this go. I have to forgive.
What is forgiveness? My spiritual teacher says, “It means to remain free from vindictive attitudes towards anyone.” I like that. His definition works for me. I don’t want to spend my time wishing ill will on anyone. Or myself for that matter. It doesn’t serve anyone. In fact, it results in knee pain. At least in my case.
The difficulty for me in forgiving someone is I don’t want to sign off on their harmful behavior. I don’t want to say, “It’s OK for you to treat me this way,” when it’s not. However, I think there’s a difference between remaining free from vindictive attitudes and condoning someone’s behavior. Quite a few steps exist in between.
Forgiveness then is primarily an act of letting go. For me that means holding someone in the light. Giving them over to the powers that be and saying, “Here. You take it.” I can’t keep expending my energy stewing in anger and resentment, particularly because the other person is not going to change. And if they do, it won’t be because I directed vitriol at them. How other people behave is out of my hands. Lordy how I wish that wasn’t so, but it is. The way I maintain my inner peace and serenity then is to let go, to forgive. To realize all I can do is take care of myself by setting good boundaries, enforcing them, and removing myself from harmful situations.
What’s funny is after typing that I wanted to swear. Forgiveness really is the other “f” word.
I dream of a world where we’re able to forgive. A world where we’re able to let go of our desire to punish another. A world where we recognize what we can control and what we cannot. A world where we practice forgiveness not only for others, but for ourselves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I would say the prevailing sentiment for me right now is disillusionment. I’m seeing things as they are, not how I’d like them to be. I read an article the other day about the presence of white supremacists growing faster on twitter than ISIS. The number of accounts has grown by 600 percent since 2012. What’s interesting is instead of feeling scared, I feel relieved. I think a part of me knew this was coming, expected it, and perhaps even prepared for it.
As I’ve perused news stories about the rise of white supremacy and neo-Nazis, a voice clearly said, “You were made for these times.” I’m not alone in this. We were all made for these times. Every experience we’ve had to date has prepared us for this precise moment and for all the moments to come. No experience is wasted.
When I think about my experiences, I see how my outlook, my loving nature, and my empathy are useful for today’s world.
I grew up in a household that practiced yoga and meditation and was taught from an early age to find similarities over differences. It wasn’t unusual for a person from a far-off land to stay with us. Hearing different accents was normal. I won’t say I’m completely free of bias and prejudice, but I will say I make an effort to work on it. I didn’t realize how valuable that was until after this election.
My spiritual teacher says, “Those whose preachings encourage discriminatory feelings are the worst enemies of humanity. These are the people who in every age … have caused blood to flow. And even today these vested interests are still trying to perpetrate discrimination in a thousand and one ways.”
He obviously has some strong words about those who want to encourage division. Instead, he advocates seeing everyone as a expression of the divine, something far easier said than done. A way for me to practice that is empathy. To recognize we are all human beings trying to meet our needs. I may not agree with the strategies to meet those needs, but I can see we all want the same things.
Audrey Hepburn said, “Nothing is more important than empathy for another human being’s suffering. Nothing. Not a career, not wealth, not intelligence, certainly not status. We have to feel for one another if we’re going to survive with dignity.”
Surviving with dignity means building bridges, not walls. It’s important for us to create a “we” space, not an “us versus them,” space. “Us versus them” means hate, it means discrimination, it means fear, it means cruelty. I do not hate those who hate me. I do not hate those who hate others. Hate only breeds more hate and more division. Instead, in these challenging times I’m choosing to see other people as human beings, worthy of love and respect. I will fight tooth and nail against policies and practices that harm others, but I will not do so with hate in my heart because my experiences do not allow me to do that. I was made for these times. We all were.
I dream of a world where we realize we were made for these times. A world where we realize we all have unique talents and skills that may be put to use in service of others. A world where we understand each experience prepares us for another. A world where we realize we were born for this.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am struggling to have hope for the future. To keep the faith things will work out in my favor both personally and in society. It’s very easy to feel that way right now I think. When all signs and evidence are pointing toward one direction, how could I possibly believe another? I know that’s why it’s called faith, but faith has always been a struggle for me.
There’s a saying I like: “More will be revealed.” It’s popular within the recovery community because more will be revealed. We don’t know what the future holds and more will be shown to us. I appreciate that sentiment, and know it to be true, but I also need a little more because, again, issues with faith over here.
My spiritual teacher says, “[W]ell-directed effort is the first and the last step toward the mundane success, psychic achievement, psycho-spiritual attainment, and spiritual fulfillment of human beings; indeed, aversion to this [well-directed effort] is the greatest impediment to success, great or small, in human life. That is why Shiva said in clear language, ‘Without well-directed effort, success in any field of activity is impossible.’”
Reading that I feel a little better because I can’t control the future, I can’t bend the world according to my whim, but I can keep doing my part. And my part is to keep showing up, to keep doing the footwork, to continue the well-directed effort, and success will be achieved. I think of it in terms of building blocks. I want everything to be finished and complete already, maybe just slap on a coat of paint, but that’s not how a new house is built. A house is built starting with the foundation with each piece carefully placed, otherwise the structure isn’t sturdy.
Maybe instead of wishing the house was already finished and lamenting that I can’t live in it yet, it would be better for me to see I am building something. Slowly but surely I’m building something new, and gradually, with time and continued effort, the house will be complete. The important thing is to keep going, to not give up, even though right now the house looks like a maze instead of a home.
I dream of a world where we keep making strides toward our dreams even when we can’t see the fruits of our labors yet. A world where we realize it’s our efforts that make change possible. A world where we understand the future is made up of building blocks and it’s up to us to place each piece.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Last week I wrote about how I don’t want to be responsible right now. I want to retreat, to withdraw. I’m tapping into something deeper this week and realizing it’s more than that. I want to be taken care of. I want someone else to make the hard decisions, to be a leader, a hero. I want to be like a child feeling joyous and free because someone else is taking care of business.
This week has destroyed all notions I’ve had that someone else is taking care of business. Regardless of your political affiliation, I think the majority of us are fed up with many of our political leaders. I think the majority of us have lost faith in the people steering this ship. I know I have.
It’s hard and it’s scary for me to say that, because again, I want to be like a child, only concerned with her toys. What I’m realizing is I cannot. None of us have the luxury of becoming disengaged. We are who we’ve been waiting for.
Dhomang Yangthang says, “But now who is the arya sangha [the exalted community]? It is all of us, all of the practitioners of the present time.” That to me means I can’t wait for someone else to show up and be the hero. I can’t wait for someone else to come in and save me or save humanity. I really don’t think it’s up to one person anymore. I think it’s all of us. My spiritual teacher says all spiritual aspirants must strive to become leaders.
We must all find our inner hero because as I think we’ve been shown, most of our leaders are primarily concerned with power, not with our welfare. There are exceptions of course, thank God, but it is up to us to keep the pressure up, to have a voice, to be empowered. And it’s more than just voting once every four years. It’s easy for me to sit back and say, “Well, I voted and that’s good enough, that’s all I can do.” Voting is great! Voting is important! But voting isn’t everything.
To ensure we’re being taken care of, we have to take care of ourselves. To ensure our brothers and sisters are being taken care of, we have to take care of them. What I’m saying is we can’t rely on someone else. We can’t be passive players in our lives because when we are, we become like sheep terrorized by wolves. Wolves will always be wolves, but together, we can drive the wolves away.
I’m going to quote my spiritual teacher again who said leaders will “work for the good of all countries, for the all-around emancipation of all humanity. The downtrodden humanity of this disgraced world is looking up to the eastern horizon, awaiting the leaders advent with earnest zeal and eagerness. Let the cimmerian darkness of the interlunar night disappear. Let the human being of the new day of the new sunrise wake up in the world.” I’m ready for that new day. Are you?
I dream of a world where we realize we have to work together to save ourselves. A world where we realize we have to be our own heroes. A world where we develop the leader within us in order to make the world a better place for all.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I don’t want to “adult” right now. By that I mean I don’t want to be responsible, I don’t want to run any errands, I don’t want to show up and engage in life. What’s interesting is I don’t want to go somewhere else, I don’t want to swim with dolphins in Maui for instance. I want to withdraw completely. In yoga, the term for withdrawal is pratyáhára.
Pratyáhára is not the same thing as hibernating. In its true form, pratyáhára means the conscious endeavor to withdraw the mind from mundane qualities and attractions and direct it toward something subtler. It’s considered a crucial first step in meditation.
I won’t claim that I practice perfect withdrawal, but the space I’m in right now is a melancholy one. I don’t want to engage or connect. I want to retreat from the world, which is highly unusual for me because my name literally means to bind. I’m all about connection, presence, and form. I love making things happen, turning an idea into reality. But right now, that doesn’t interest me.
I could start to chastise myself because I place so much value on engaging, but when I think about pratyáhára, I remind myself it’s possible this, too, is OK. This, too, is a part of the spiritual process. I know my spiritual teacher discusses the term in relation to meditation, but I wonder if for me right now the desire to physically withdraw is also a call to go inward. To turn toward my inner self and practice communion with the loving presence within me that’s also within everyone.
All things in moderation of course – the world cannot function if we all retreat all the time, but maybe retreating also has a place. Maybe I don’t have to be “on” all of the time or responsible all the time or aware all the time. Maybe it’s OK for me to check out. I struck a nerve there because typing that I started to tear up.
I’m learning to become a more balanced human being, but to do so I have to spend time at either end of the spectrum. To paraphrase my spiritual teacher, meditation is an effort to remove one’s internal distortions – to extract the gold from the alloy, in order to experience merger with the divine. The distortions should not be cast aside, but should be smelted in the fire of meditation and restored to their pure and original form. And withdrawal is a part of that process.
I dream of a world where we strike a balance between withdrawal and engagement. A world where we give ourselves permission to retreat every once in a while. A world where we understand there is a place for all things.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I have big dreams for myself and the world. I want social and economic justice for all. I want to live in a place where racism is eradicated, poverty is eliminated, and everyone has their basic needs met. Even typing that sentence I want to laugh because it seems ludicrous. I want to pat myself on the head condescendingly and say, “That’s great Rebekah. You keep having those dreams. I’ll be over here in the real world while you live in fantasy land.”
And it seems that way doesn’t it? Like an impossible dream? When I start to think this way, I fall into despair. However, the words of Rabbi Michael Lerner keep ringing in my ears. A few times during the recent Jewish High Holidays he said:
Our plans [for change] are “unrealistic” in exactly the same way that it was “unrealistic” for women in the 1960s to think that sexism and patriarchy could be challenged effectively; the way that challenging segregation in the U.S. and apartheid in South Africa seemed “unrealistic” before they were overcome; and the way that gays and lesbians were being “unrealistic” to push for marriage equality. It’s always like this: The fundamental changes that are needed in our world are dismissed by the media, the politicians, and even by many people who want those changes as “unrealistic” before people engage in building movements to achieve them, and then described by the media pundits and sociologists as “inevitable” once they have been achieved.
The question for me becomes: how? How do I engage with my personal and public dreams in such a way they become inevitable? First, I think it’s important to have patience. To understand I’ll fail many times before I succeed. That change will not happen overnight, as much as I would like it to. Second, I think about something my spiritual teacher has said. To paraphrase, our actions must be in alignment with a power greater than ourselves. He likens it to the numbers one and zero. A higher power is the number one and our actions are like zeros. If you take the one first and to that one perform your actions, it is like adding zeros to the one – it is like multiplying by 10 with each action.
What does that mean exactly? I think it means first and foremost remembering I’m an instrument, but I also think it means to do the things my heart urges me to do. I’m not talking about the passing whims, the, “Ooooh, let’s learn to play the trumpet!” or “Let’s quit our job and open a ski chalet in Switzerland even though we don’t know how to ski!” I mean the persistent, constant dreams that nag us like woodpeckers knocking against a tree. It’s those dreams that carry weight. It’s those dreams that leave a mark, and it’s those dreams I have to believe have a “one” in front of them, so to speak.
I dream of a world where we keep the faith that certain dreams will inevitably come to fruition. A world where even if it seems unrealistic, we keep plodding along because in our hearts we know we must. A world where we keep our eyes trained on our goals knowing we will reach them.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately I’ve been enthralled with the idea the small things we do today can have big consequences later. Sporadically I listen to Elizabeth Gilbert’s podcast “Magic Lessons.” In one of the episodes, she speaks with a woman of Irish descent about the importance of stories and how they’re not frivolous at all. Liz mentions the book, How the Irish Saved Civilization, describing how during the 6th and 7th centuries Irish monks and scribes copied manuscripts of Greek and Latin writers, both pagan and Christian, when most people weren’t even reading yet. When the Roman Empire fell, all these works of literature would have been lost, except the Irish had copies and were able to reintroduce the manuscripts to the continent.
This story charmed me because here these monks and scribes were, engaging in the seemingly pointless task of copying manuscripts, and then years later, that task proved useful. I’d like to believe the same is true for all of us – the seemingly trivial things we engage in even though we’re not sure why, will some day become important. We may not all save civilization, but we all still matter. We’ve all seen television shows and movies where people go back in time and because one detail was altered, history changes. What I’m starting to contemplate is how the same is true for the future – that what I’m doing now affects things down the road. Not just my personal life, but for the lives of others.
I think I’ve used this quote before but it’s fitting in this context. My spiritual teacher says, “The Milky Way is vast from one end to the other; an ant is a very small creature, but the role of both of them in maintaining the balance of the universe is equal. If one ant meets a premature death, it will disturb the balance of the entire cosmos. Therefore, nothing here is unimportant, not even an ant. Suppose, an ant is sitting on the edge of a rock and it moves even one inch from east to west, and this disturbs the balance of the rock, it may cause a big earthquake – because after all, the ant is also God’s original creation.”
I’ve heard that quote a few times, but when I mull it over, it’s incredible. The premature death of an ant can disturb the balance of the entire cosmos! An ant! What does that mean for us and our lives? Particularly when we look beyond the scope of our death? Some of the reactions to our actions won’t come to fruition until we are long dead and that’s amazing to think about. How even from the grave our actions are rippling out, affecting humanity. It may not be as monumental as preserving classical literature, but then again it might.
I dream of a world where we realize no one is unimportant. A world where we realize our actions have ripple effects that we may never see. A world where we keep doing the things we are guided to do even when our brains ask, “What’s the point?”
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.