The other day I spoke with a friend on the telephone and in the background her kid started to fuss. She commented he does that sometimes when she’s not interacting with him. I retorted, “I get it. I want to be the center of someone’s universe too.” She laughed and said, “So do I. It will have to be higher power.”
Hearing her say that jolted my system, like someone flinging open the curtains of a darkened room to let the sun shine in. She so clearly expressed a concept I struggle with, a perspective I’m trying to hold.
My spiritual teacher categorizes devotees in three ways. The third class of devotees thinks God belongs to everybody, and because the person is also included within the scope of “everybody,” God belongs to them also. The second-class devotee will say, “No, no, no. That is not the correct psychic approach. You, God, belong to me, and because You belong to me, You belong to all. That is, the first thing is You belong to me. And the second thing, because You belong to me, is You belong to others also.” The first-class devotee says, “No, no, no, that’s not the correct approach. You belong to me and You belong to me only — not to others. In this realm of relationship I do not allow any third person to come. You are one hundred percent mine.”
I’m working on believing I’m the center of God’s universe. Photo by Rodion Kutsaev on Unsplash
He encourages everyone to be a first-class devotee, to develop a personal relationship with a higher power because love is what draws us closer to the divine, and it’s hard to love something impersonal. I can honestly say I’m not a first-class devotee. I’m in between a second- and third-class devotee. I take the viewpoint that I’m sharing my higher power with others. I’m not the center of anyone’s universe; I’m just a cog in a wheel.
My friend’s comment reminds me I could change my perspective. I could operate as if I’m the most important, most special, most beloved being in the universe. Not in an entitled way. Not in a selfish, no-one-else-exists way. I’m not suggesting that I get huffy every time things don’t go according to my plan. Instead, I’m wondering if I could take the perspective of an infant and live in such a way that I know I’m being cared for, that I have the undivided attention of a loving parent.
It’s hard for me to articulate what I’m trying to convey here because it’s an internal mind-shift. The reason I care so much about this topic is because I have insecure attachment. That means I’m used to the idea that sometimes an attachment figure — a parent, a partner, a friend — with be there for me and sometimes they won’t. Historically, I don’t have the feeling of security, of constancy. I’m used to sharing. My spiritual teacher is instead saying, “No. You’re not sharing. This is the securest of secure. You and God are in your own little love bubble,” so to speak.
If I can maintain that perspective that means I’ll welcome in more ease, more peace, and more comfort in my life. It means during turbulent times I can relax because I know I won’t be abandoned, and furthermore, there’s a power greater than me holding me tight, soothing me, letting me know nothing is more important than making sure I’m OK.
I dream of a world where we realize we are each at the center of the universe for a power greater than ourselves. A world where we find ease and comfort knowing that no matter what happens, there is a loving parent with us all along, guiding us, soothing us, looking out for us, attending to all our needs.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This whole week I’ve been spinning out, contemplating the future. “If this happens, then I’ll do this. If that happens, then I’ll do that.” I’ve been on a veritable hamster wheel of potential future outcomes. When I asked myself, “Que pasa?” the answer was, I want to know the future so I can feel safe. I want to know what’s coming so I can plan for it and feel at ease.
One of my favorite authors, Dr. Gabor Maté, wrote in his book When the Body Says No, if someone is “controlling,” they are in fact deeply anxious. He said, “When such a person fears that he is unable to control events, he experiences great stress. Unconsciously, he believes that only by controlling every aspect of his life and environment will he be able to ensure the satisfaction of his needs.”
I think this is lavender. If not, let’s pretend it is — lavender is very soothing.
Yep. Certainly true for me. Unfortunately, I can’t control every aspect of my life and environment, something I’m very clear on. To circumvent that, I try to predict the future, which also, unfortunately, I’m terrible at doing. The future pretty much never goes the way I anticipate it will. Maybe not never. I think one time out of a million I’m right, but those are terrible odds. No one would hire me to tell their fortune, that’s for sure. What to do then?
What I’ve been ruminating on is the notion I can take care of myself no matter what circumstances I’m in. Instead of running through a million possibilities in my head, I’m saying to the scared parts of me, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not ever going anywhere. I’ll protect you. Let me take care of that.” I’m saying it every day, every hour, every 10 minutes. Every time I’m scared and start future tripping.
I’m also reminded of one of my favorite quotes by my spiritual teacher, which I’m sure I’ve shared before: “Difficulties can never be greater than your capacity to solve them.” That means I can have faith in myself and in humanity that no matter what comes, we can handle it. We can solve any problem, we can overcome any difficulty. We are creative and resourceful, and furthermore, we’re not alone. We have each other, but we also have a force greater than ourselves.
My teacher also said, “[A]s long as there is a speck of dust under your feet, as long as a single star twinkles over your head, you should remember that you are not helpless, that you are not alone. You need not have any fear or apprehension about this under any circumstances.”
The way for me to keep fear and apprehension at bay is to keep reminding myself of this. That I’m not alone. That I’m here. That my higher power is here. That we can solve anything together.
I dream of a world where we keep reassuring ourselves. A world where we soothe ourselves about our capacity to handle life. A world where we remember we’re not alone. A world where we know we can solve any difficulty that comes our way.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I live in a very transient area. People move here and move away all the time. It’s one of the most painful aspects of living here, especially for a person like me who clings to people like a barnacle. “Don’t leave me! Stay!” Except, the thing is, even if a person is physically present, it doesn’t mean they’re emotionally present, or that they’ll be emotionally present all the time. Well crap. What’s a person to do?
I’m going to pass on a secret: Be there for yourself. Counter to all the messages we’re being fed, the solution to fears of abandonment is not to find that one perfect person to spend the rest of our life with. The solution is to give that to ourselves. To say to myself, “Rebekah, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not ever going anywhere. I’ll stay.” People, and pets for that matter, come into and out of our lives, but the two constant presences are ourselves and the Supreme. My spiritual teacher says God is our one true friend, our constant, forever companion. But how often are we nurturing these relationships? How often are we instead taking them for granted?
Won’t you stay? Oh, I have to stay for me? Oh, right.
One of the most powerful messages I’ve gleaned from being in recovery is that I’m in a relationship with my Higher Power. That God is not Santa Claus, rewarding me when I’m good and punishing me when I’m bad. And that just like any other relationship, we need to spend time together to improve it. We need to communicate with one another, to talk and to listen. It’s easy to neglect the relationship because it’s always there, to take it for granted, but I’m reminded again, it’s one of the most important relationships in my life.
The other most important relationship in my life is the one with me. Am I here for me? Am I taking care of me? Am I treating myself like a friend? Saying nice things to myself, encouraging myself, forgiving myself for mistakes? My inclination is to turn outward, to focus on outside relationships, other people, what they’re doing, what they’re saying, how they feel. My meditation practice, however, is about turning inward, asking instead what am I doing, what am I saying, how do I feel?
A few weeks ago I went to a group meditation and I’m the only one that showed up. I know, that sounds weird because if no one showed up then it was solo meditation, but the intention was to meditate with others. I felt so awkward, sitting in a space that belongs to a friend, meditating alone when usually I’m surrounded by others. But then the awkwardness faded as I felt the presence of my Higher Power, and the presence of me. Instead of being by myself, I was with myself. No longer did I feel alone because I had me and I had my Higher Power. It was one of the sweetest meditations I’ve experienced for awhile. So in answer to the question, “Won’t you stay?” the answer is yes, Rebekah, I will.
I dream of a world where we develop the relationships with ourselves and with the divine. A world where we feel the presence of us and something greater than us. A world where we remember we are never alone because we have our one true companion by our side.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I had a funny incident take place that showed me just how much of the anxiety I experience is of my own making.
On Tuesday, I sent off a flurry of text messages – to my landlord, a close friend, a new friend, etc. – and didn’t hear back from any of them. Not a single person. I made and received calls, but not a single text message came through. Being the person I am, I went into a tizzy and started imagining the worst: “I’m being a nuisance! They don’t want to be friends anymore! They’re trying to send me a passive-aggressive message!”
Wouldn’t it be cool if we could take certains things out of our heads like taking off a mask?
On the periphery of my brain, I postulated perhaps the people I texted were busy, but I didn’t give that thought much credence because clearly the more plausible theory was the one where everybody decided they wanted nothing to do with me. It may sound ridiculous – and it is ridiculous – but that’s where my brain goes and it takes a lot to convince me otherwise.
I turned off my phone on Tuesday night, still with nary a text, woke up on Wednesday, and had 11 text messages. All of the people I texted on Tuesday had responded to me shortly after I contacted them, but my phone was being weird and I didn’t receive the messages until Wednesday. That’s never happened to me before. All of that worry and anxiety for nothing.
It reminded me that so much of what I’m anxious about never comes to pass. That I put myself in these anxious states by the thoughts I think. It’s easy to say, “Well, think different thoughts!” but I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to become more logical when I feel so illogical. A new practice that I’m trying is to ask myself, “How do I know this is true?” That simple question allows me the space to step back and remind myself, “Oh yeah! I don’t know it’s true. It’s only my thoughts/pictures that tell me so,” and somehow my rational brain is able to come back online. Because really, most of this stuff is in my head.
I dream of a world where we recognize much of what we worry about is only in our minds. A world where we don’t believe everything we think. A world where we’re able to take a step back and ask ourselves for some evidence of the thoughts we think.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I felt like a cuckoo bird. Sitting in a room full of boxes in a new place will do that to me. I noticed that because I felt insecure in my living space (i.e., everything was new and disorganized), that also meant my insecurity regarding relationships came up. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m anxious attachment, which in a nutshell means I feel uncertain in my relationships.
That anxiety and sensitivity was on hyperdrive this week as I found myself spinning out over the tiniest things. For instance, I texted my neighbor and when she didn’t respond right away I started thinking the worst: “She doesn’t want to talk to me! I’m bugging her! She regrets having me as her neighbor!” Of course, that wasn’t true and instead she was just busy, but still. When I’m in that anxious state I take everything personally. I try to read people’s minds and make every action, or inaction, of theirs a reflection on me. I want to modulate my behavior in order to maintain a connection with the person.
What I love about this picture is you think it’s just a drop on a leaf but it’s NOT! Kinda like how if you look closer you see things are between God and us.
Talk about making myself crazy, right?
One of the things that helped me so much with this is a quote misattributed to Mother Teresa. It’s a variant or paraphrase of The Paradoxical Commandments by Kent M. Keith, but I like the inaccurate quote better than the original:
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway. If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
Ahhhh. I’m breathing a sigh of relief just reading that again. Whenever I try to curb or modulate my behavior, I’m making it between us, when actually it’s between God and me. When I express my love for another, I’m really expressing my love for God in the form of a person, and it’s not up to me whether the person accepts it or not. That part is out of my hands. And because the universe is infinite and creative, it’s quite likely that if the person I’m expressing affection to rejects it, I’ll receive love from some other person. For God, there is no limit and there is no distinction.
What I’m saying is it doesn’t matter if my neighbor doesn’t text me back right away, or some guy rejects me, because it was never between us. It was between God and me anyway, and the more I shore up my relationship with my higher power, the better off I’ll be. The more that I stop taking things so personally and practice forgiveness, kindness, honesty, and service regardless of how people respond, the happier I will be.
I dream of a world where we we see relationships as an expression between God and ourselves. A world where we show up fully regardless of other people. A world where we value our relationship with ourselves because we understand ultimately everything is between God and us anyway.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve wanted to write about this for a long time so I’m glad the opportunity finally presented itself. According to one theory, there are three relationship styles, also called attachment styles or systems. Usually, when we’re talking about attachment theory it’s in terms of parenting, i.e. how “attached” a child is to a parent. Since attachment theory was developed, researchers have started applying it to all relationships, not just parents and kids.
Here is a brief overview of the three kinds of attachment systems and how they play out:
In the strange situation [an experiment developed to study attachment styles], 12-month-old infants and their parents are brought to the laboratory and, systematically, separated from and reunited with one another. In the strange situation, most children (i.e., about 60%) behave in the way implied by Bowlby’s [the inventor of attachment theory] “normative” theory. They become upset when the parent leaves the room, but, when he or she returns, they actively seek the parent and are easily comforted by him or her. Children who exhibit this pattern of behavior are often called secure. Other children (about 20% or less) are ill-at-ease initially, and, upon separation, become extremely distressed. Importantly, when reunited with their parents, these children have a difficult time being soothed, and often exhibit conflicting behaviors that suggest they want to be comforted, but that they also want to “punish” the parent for leaving. These children are often called anxious-resistant. The third pattern of attachment … documented is called avoidant. Avoidant children (about 20%) don’t appear too distressed by the separation, and, upon reunion, actively avoid seeking contact with their parent, sometimes turning their attention to play objects on the laboratory floor. Source.
Like I said, this applies not only to kids, but to adults as well and comes out most prevalently in romantic relationships. For me, I’ve noticed my attachment system is at work in ALL of my relationships. (If you want to read more about this, and how your “bad luck” with romance could boil down to picking avoidants again and again, I highly recommend picking up Attached or checking out this article.)
How you feel internally is what you project externally and vice versa.
You may have already guessed, but I have anxious attachment. What that means in practical terms is if a friend is late and they haven’t told me they’re running late, I immediately start to feel anxious and envision them lying in a ditch somewhere. I start to fret and am unable to calm down until I hear from said friend.
I’m not nearly as anxious as I used to be because I’ve done a LOT of work on myself to become more secure, but sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, like this week.
A friend of mine dropped off the face of the Earth for two weeks and at first I was fine with it, but then the thought came into my head that something could be seriously wrong. I am so embarrassed I acted out of my anxiety and sent him an email expressing my concern. Through the process, however, I’ve realized the external is internal.
My anxiety is not really about another person, I’m projecting because I feel insecure. I (unknowingly) flash back to childhood and being rejected or abandoned by my peers. I relive feeling anxious and insecure about getting my basic needs met. Hearing back from the person I’m worried about only temporarily fixes the problem, much like putting a band aid on a wound that requires stitches. The best thing I can do is reframe my past and heal myself.
Instead of replaying how certain people would be my friend and then all of a sudden stop talking to me, I can remember “rejection is God’s protection,” so perhaps those are people I wouldn’t want to be in my life anyway. And I can remind myself of how many friends from my childhood I do have. I have a busload and many of them live in the Bay Area. Sure, I only saw them one or two weeks out of the year at retreats, but the bond is there. Instead of focusing on the few people I never heard back from, I can feel gratitude for so many people who are still in my life. Most importantly, I can create security for myself by affirming I will never abandon myself and that I will always be around to take care of me.
I know this post is quite long, but the point I want to drive home is sometimes we think external things will fix us – if only so-and-so would call we’ll feel better – but we do not control other people and trying to do so only makes us feel crazy. The inner peace we seek only comes about from doing internal work, which is where the real healing is anyway.
I dream of a world where we recognize our external feelings are often projections of our internal ones. A world where we understand the real healing comes from reshaping our internal thoughts and beliefs. A world where we confront our traumas and then release them. A world where we understand to fix our external world we often have to work on our internal one.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.