Several years ago I watched a Ted Talk by Elizabeth Gilbert on extreme success and extreme failure. She made the point that both positions catapult you out of your normal range of emotion and so both are hard to process. Both feel surreal because they aren’t everyday occurrences. Her point is resonating with me because I just got back from my sister’s wedding.
Not only did I see extended family for the first time since 2015 or 2016, but I also saw my sister’s friends from middle and high school. These are people I know too, although obviously not as well. They aren’t my friends but they are people who were tangentially in my life. We reconnected for a brief moment in time, a few hours, and that was it. Not only did I see them, but friends Rosie and I have in common, and, of course, immediate family, who don’t live close to me. It’s hard, really hard, to connect with people who mean something to me and then separate again.
As much as I would like to maintain relationships with all the people I love and care about, it’s not possible. Having a weekend where that happens to a degree is difficult because I get a small taste of what I want, but just that small taste.
Maybe other people have already made peace with this and don’t really care, but that’s not me. My Sanskrit name, Radha, means the personification of love so in my ideal world, I’d be close with every person I hold in my heart. I’d see all of them regularly. We’d be up to date on each other’s lives. We’d have adventures together. We’d travel together. We’d be integrally connected. But that doesn’t happen.
Maybe instead of trying to force the impossible, I can embrace the ephemeral. This is why people talk about living in the moment, right? Because this moment and the next and the next aren’t repeatable? As much as we try to recreate experiences, we can’t, can we? That means sometimes life will take you far and wide. You’ll experience moments that are so surreal they’re hard to comprehend. It may be extreme success, dismal failure, or the convergence of multiple people from various points in your life. Whatever it is, I’ll bet you’ll have surreal experiences too.
I don’t have a lesson here. I don’t have any advice. The best I can do is recognize sometimes I won’t be able to integrate certain experiences because they’re so outside the range of normal that I can’t. And that’s OK. That, too, is what it means to be alive. Embracing the surreal is just a part of life.
I dream of a world where we recognize we will have moments that aren’t in our normal range. A world where we understand some things will feel surreal. A world where we embrace that, accept that reality and make peace with it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve heard over and over again you need to figure things out. In the U.S., we’re fond of “pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps,” going out there and “seizing the day,” and just generally “making stuff happen.” There’s this idea if you aren’t hustling, you’re doomed to live an unsatisfying and unfulfilling life. It’s exhausting, frankly. But what if there’s another way to move through the world? An easier way?
Here’s how that’s showed up for me. Lately, I’ve been craving in-person connection, especially the group kind. The pandemic has decimated my communities by either transitioning to meeting online or halting altogether. I’m just not doing the things I was before and boy am I feeling it. Being the compulsive person that I am, last week I scoured Meetup for in-person groups, determined to find fun things to do with other people. I found a few groups, but given my interests, most of them require hiking and I’m still healing from a foot injury. They’re good for future me, but not present me.
I love how her bag says “subtle” Photo by Dan Burton on Unsplash
Magically, unexpectedly, two of the companies I freelance for are having dinners this coming week and invited me to attend. As someone who is a solopreneur, I often declare I don’t and won’t meet anyone through work because I don’t have colleagues. There are no water cooler moments or lunches with team members. Therefore, I find it hilarious that I’ll be socializing with coworkers of sorts this week, just when I needed it. Problem of in-person connection solved and I didn’t have to do anything except say, “yes, I’ll be there.”
I bring this up because it reminds me sometimes, we don’t have to do anything. Sometimes we have a desire and the universe creates circumstances and events to fulfill that desire. It’s comforting for me to know I’m not alone here, in charge of every little thing in my life. Instead, there’s a benevolent, loving force in the world that acts on my behalf. I didn’t do anything to create in-person connection and in fact, my attempts failed for one reason or another. I didn’t “figure anything out.” The universe did that for me. What a relief.
My spiritual teacher says every being evolves because Cosmic Consciousness loves them, and the force of that intense love draws them toward that consciousness. “All the entities of this universe are mutually attracting all other entities. But [Cosmic Consciousness] is attracting all entities by dint of His love for all, by dint of His personal relationship with all,” my teacher says.
In other words, yeah, the universe wants to support me, wants to help me out to bring me closer to the Supreme Entity, the consciousness at the center of everything. I don’t have to figure everything out, and in fact, it’s better if I don’t even try and instead, let myself be loved and cared for by something greater than me.
I dream of a world where we recognize there is a benevolent force in the universe loving us, guiding us. A world where we understand undergirding everything is a current of love drawing us closer and closer. A world where we remember we don’t have to figure everything out because we’re in a relationship with an entity that’s more powerful than us anyway.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other week I read an interesting philosophical treatise about the structure of our universe, which is an oval. We are made up of atoms with electrons moving around a nucleus. On a larger scale, the Earth is the nucleus and the moon is moving around it. In our solar system, the sun is the nucleus and all the planets are moving around it. According to my spiritual philosophy, there is a Supreme nucleus and we are all moving around it.
Is that Supreme hub a place we can get to? Can I jump into a rocketship and go see it? Is the Supreme nucleus instead a metaphor? I do not know the answers to these questions, but a friend commented on this discourse and said we are all emanating out from the same nucleus. We all have the same center, the same core.
We are all spiraling around the same nucleus.
His comment struck me because regardless of whether or not a person believes in a Cosmic Consciousness, or subscribes to my spiritual philosophy, we do have the same core. It is a fact we are all made up of atoms. It is a fact we are all made up of stardust, to paraphrase Carl Sagan. To quote an article on the subject:
“The carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen atoms in our bodies, as well as atoms of all other heavy elements, were created in previous generations of stars over 4.5 billion years ago. Because humans and every other animal as well as most of the matter on Earth contain these elements, we are literally made of star stuff.”
I’ve been hearing about this concept for many years so it’s easy for me to gloss over it, but something about thinking how we all have the same core got to me. It allows me to connect with you even deeper because inside we are the same, and knowingly or unknowingly, we are moving together. Some people are moving closer to the Supreme hub. I would say the Dalai Lama or Pope Francis are great examples of people who are moving closer to Cosmic Consciousness because they have a universal outlook. They seem to look upon others with a sense of oneness, that we are all connected, that there is no difference between them and someone else.
My spiritual teacher says, “Each and every aspirant, each and every artist, each and every scientist, and each and every philosopher must be ensconced in this supreme veracity – that they will have to be one with the Supreme, that each will have to coincide his or her microcosmic nucleus with the macrocosmic one.”
The speed with which this happens varies, and some people move further away from the nucleus, but no one can move beyond its scope. Even the most terrible person, even the most despised people are still circling the nucleus. They may be at the periphery, but they still have the same nucleus, and that means I can recognize those people, too, are my brothers and sisters. They, too, are on the spiritual journey with me and that means I can soften my heart toward them. Because we are all connected at the core.
I dream of a world where we recognize we are all made of the same things. A world where we recognize we all emanate from the same source. A world where we remember we are all connected at the core.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am very attached to my vision of things. I have an idea of how things “should” look and it’s hard for me to let that go. In the nonviolent communication world, we’d call that being attached to a certain strategy for getting a need met.
This week I’m zeroing in on my strategies and also realizing I can still get my needs met without employing a specific one. For instance, I have a need for intimacy and connection (we all do). My perspective has been because I’m single, those needs are not getting met. However, I finally looked up the definition of both those words, to be sure they mean what I think they mean.
I’m refocusing and realizing things are perhaps not what they seem.
The definition of intimacy is “the state of being intimate; close familiarity or association. Nearness in friendship.” And intimate means, “Innermost; inward; internal; deep-seated; hearty. Or near; close; direct; thorough; complete.” Once I read that definition I said, “What am I complaining about? I have that in spades.” Because I do. I have that with myself, I have that with friends. Heck, I have that with strangers.
Similarly, connection means “that which connects or joins together; bond; tie.” Did you know Rebekah means to tie or to bind? Guys, connection is quite literally my name. I already have what I want, it’s inherent to who I am. It feels good to refocus and see nothing is missing in my life, although on the surface it may seem that way.
This topic also reminds me of one of my favorite movies, Under the Tuscan Sun. The main character moves to Tuscany, by herself, and cries to a friend about wanting a wedding in her house, and a family, and someone to cook for. She imagines that wish will become a reality because she meets someone, but in the end, her wish comes true in a different way: she hosts a wedding for her neighbor, her best friend moves in with her newborn daughter, and she starts cooking for her friends.
I realize Under the Tuscan Sun is a movie, but I love stories like these because they remind me the universe is open and surprising. That there are many ways to meet a need. That I don’t have to cling to a certain strategy because the world is a vast and mysterious place. And furthermore, when I refocus, I may find I already have what I want.
I dream of a world where we take a closer look at our needs and find how they’re already getting met. A world where we let go of our attachments to how things “should” go and instead let the universe unfold as it will.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I am sick today and having trouble writing the post I’d like to write, so instead I’m tweaking this one from 2013.
This week my lifecoach tasked me with contacting a handful of people everyday about my book, speaking engagements, etc. At first, I balked because I told him I didn’t want to be “the weird girl.” More than being afraid of rejection, I didn’t want that familiar sensation of people staring at me blankly, or even worse, turning up their nose at me. He asked me, “What’s that like? The sensation of being ‘the weird girl?'”
I told him it was a bit like being adrift at sea in nothing but a rowboat and no ships or people around for miles. The underlying feeling or sensation is one of being disconnected. Disconnected from other people, disconnected from my surroundings. For someone who LOVES to connect — with other people, her environment, and even connect one person with another — disconnection is like the ultimate hell.
However, what came out of my conversation with my lifecoach is that when I’m adrift at sea, I’m given a chance to connect with myself and also my higher power. So really, even when I disconnect I’m connected! It’s a bit like a Mobius strip in that one feeds into the other. There is no end and there is no edge. I’m connected at all times, even if it’s not to what I thought it would be.
My friend crocheted mobius strip handwarmers for me. Aren’t they the best?!?
When I articulated this to him, my fear went away. I realized yeah, I may disconnect from my audience, from the random person I contacted, or whoever, but that’s OK because it gives me a chance to connect with someone or something else. I don’t have to be afraid of disconnection because by acknowledging it, I’m allowing the space for a new connection to be formed. I’m allowing myself to drift about like a feather in the wind, blowing to its next destination.
I don’t know if this blogpost is profound to anyone else, but to me, it’s so indicative of how this world works, of its dualistic nature. That without dark there is no light. Without cold, there is no hot. And also how one feeds into the other. Out of darkness comes light and out of disconnection comes connection. It also shows me that sometimes it’s within the depths of that which we fear, that we may find what we seek. That perhaps by venturing into what I’m avoiding at all costs, I’ll find what I’m attracted to.
I dream of a world where we understand disconnection is how we connect to something else. That connection and disconnection are two sides of the same coin. A world where we don’t fear anything because we understand good comes out of the bad, and even what we fear the most may not be as scary as it seems. A world where we face what troubles us and know we’ll still be OK. Because in the end, it may very well serve as a vehicle to get us what we want.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week my lifecoach tasked me with contacting a handful of people everyday about my book, speaking engagements, etc. At first I balked because I told him I didn't want to be "the weird girl." More than being afraid of rejection, I didn't want that familiar sensation of people staring at me blankly, or even worse turning up their nose at me. He asked me, "What's that like? The sensation of being the 'weird girl?'"
I told him it was a bit like being adrift at sea in nothing but a rowboat and no ships or people around for miles. The underlying feeling or sensation is one of being disconnected. Disconnected from other people, disconnected from my surroundings. For someone who LOVES to connect — with other people, her environment, and even connect one person with another — disconnection is like the ultimate hell.
A Mobius strip. True story, I have a pair of Mobius strip handwarmers.
However, what came out of my conversation with my lifecoach is that when I'm adrift at sea, I'm given a chance to connect with myself and also my higher power. So really, even when I disconnect I'm connected! It's a bit like a Mobius strip in that one feeds into the other. There is no end and there is no edge. I'm connected at all times, even if it's not to what I thought it would be.
When I articulated this to him, my fear went away. I realized yeah, I may disconnect from my audience, from the random person I contacted, or whoever, but that's OK because it gives me a chance to connect with someone or something else. I don't have to be afraid of disconnection because by acknowledging it, I'm allowing the space for a new connection to be formed. I'm allowing myself to drift about like a feather in the wind, blowing to its next destination.
I don't know if this blogpost is profound to anyone else, but to me, it's so indicative of how this world works, of its dualistic nature. That without dark there is no light. Without cold, there is no hot. And also how one feeds into the other. Out of darkness comes light and out of disconnection comes connection. It also shows me that sometimes it's within the depths of that which we fear, that we may find what we seek. That perhaps by venturing into what I'm avoiding at all costs I'll find what I'm attracted to.
I dream of a world where we understand disconnection is how we connect to something else. That connection and disconnection are two sides of the same coin. A world where we don't fear anything because we understand good comes out of the bad, and even what we fear the most may not be as scary as it seems. A world where we face what troubles us and know we'll still be OK. Because in the end, it may very well serve as a vehicle to get us what we want.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.