About six years ago a friend found a bookmark stashed between some pages and gave it to me. “Make the impossible possible,” it says. It’s been taped to my computer ever since. I love the idea of making the impossible possible (obviously), and this week there was evidence of just that.
As you know, I’ve been looking for a place to call my own for the millionth, billionth time. Since I came back to the Bay Area on New Year’s, I’ve been staying with various friends and in a little cottage I found through airbnb.com. A pretty miraculous thing that I mentioned is I’ve been easygoing about the whole “finding a place to live” situation. I haven’t been too worried about it because I just wasn’t, plus I pulled a petulant-child tantrum and said, “Universe, if you want me to live here, you have to find me a place to live!”
I get to live here! And by “here” I mean several miles away.
What unfolded was incredible. Every day I scoured craigslist multiple times waiting for something to show up. It never did. Everything in my price range was either a.) in a bad neighborhood b.) too small or c.) both. Yet I maintained my optimism that if I was supposed to look further afield, I would receive that guidance. Little did I know apartments would come to me and not the other way around.
A friend called me up and said he knew someone with a studio apartment in El Cerrito. She was currently listing it on airbnb.com, but he convinced her that she’d be better off renting it to me. I looked at the place . . . and it was too small. But still! How awesome that a friend thought of me and that I didn’t have to compete with 100 other people for it, something that seriously happens in the Bay Area?
Then on Wednesday, a friend posted on facebook that her neighbor was moving out of his one-bedroom apartment and was anyone interested in subletting from him? I’m not comfortable with subletting, but I think it’s important to follow through on opportunities when they present themselves. I walked up to the apartment – in Oakland, a place I didn’t want to live again – to find a quiet complex pulled back from the street, situated in such a way that there would be no neighbors above or below me because the ground floor is parking and there is no third floor, well-insulated, etc. I told my friend that I was interested but to check and see how much the landlords would raise the rent for a new tenant.
The landlords wanted to raise the rent by $200 a month, but because I’m a friend of their current tenant, they agreed to $100 instead, which is the max I can pay. I filled out an application and the first time I met the landlords was when I was SIGNING THE LEASE. No advertising on craigslist, no meeting me, and just like that, I have an apartment that while not perfect, seems like it will meet my needs. It even has laundry onsite, which for the rent I’m paying is practically unheard of in this market. Oh and I have my own garage, which is even more unheard of.
It may not sound like all of this is impossible, but that’s kind of the point. How many things do we think are impossible that are actually plausible? How many times are we certain something won’t happen to us when it might, or it does? I won’t say that I “made” the impossible possible, but I will say the universe is infinite and creative and perhaps there are more things existing in the realm of reason than we think.
I dream of a world where we realize impossible things are happening every day. A world where we realize there are more potentials than we give the universe credit for. A world where we allow for more magic and mystery in our lives.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The number of romantic interludes I’ve had is embarrassingly low. Like, so low many of you would be shocked. However, it was pointed out to me the other day the way I talk about places to live, other people talk about romantic relationships. And then it hit me – what other people experience in their dating life, I experience in my home life.
I have moved 32 times (roughly) in 29 years and in that time I’ve experienced a LOT. I’ve had short-term flings (i.e. sublets); I’ve experienced love at first sight – my apartment in San Francisco – which has now turned into a phantom ex, the one I measure all others against. I’ve also had the experience of my love turning into a nightmare and lamenting how it happened – I’m talking about how my San Francisco upstairs neighbor started playing loud music and I didn’t sleep for four months.
Others date people, I date homes. Maybe I could move here, it looks nice!
I’ve moved into places that sounded good on paper, places I liked well enough but didn’t love – like my in-law unit in Balboa Park with a yippy dog – that eventually drove me nuts. I’ve remained good friends with exes, such as places in Washington, D.C., and we catch up every so often. I’ve “dated” apartments with kids (i.e. had a roommate with a child), and savored foreign lovers – there is a hotel in Vienna that I go back to year after year with pleasure.
In my current place, it wasn’t love at first sight, but we liked one another, it had all the qualities I’m looking for, but it turns out my apartment can’t commit. I’m sad to say, my landlady blew up at me unexpectedly and asked me to move out before my lease is up. I do have a lease, so I’m not sure when I’m moving, but at the moment we’re in that awkward space of knowing our “relationship” is coming to an end. In the interim, we are linked due to circumstances.
Not to mention I’ve been on loads of first dates (i.e. going to look at a place after first reading about it on Craigslist), attended tons of parties (open houses), and been rejected countless times. And I find myself wanting places that don’t want me – places that sound so intriguing and perfect but can’t be bothered to give me the time of day. And the reverse – places have wanted me that I haven’t.
The feelings that other people have in romance – the hope, the excitement, the euphoria, the resentment, the disappointment, the anger, the heartbreak – I’ve experienced in finding places to live. I bring this up because I’m a teensy bit ashamed of my paltry dating life, but now I see the universe is infinite and unlimited and so I’m having similar experiences in an unconventional way. Unconventional doesn’t mean bad, it means unusual. It doesn’t mean I’m any less equipped to deal with a partner when he comes along because I’m feeling the same things other people are, just in a different way.
I wrote this post because I find the situation to be funny, but also because maybe you think in some ways you don’t measure up. Maybe you feel ashamed because you’re not having the same experiences other people are having. I’m here to tell you, maybe you are and you’re unaware of it. Maybe life isn’t so much about a route or a path as it is about feelings. Maybe every person is supposed to experience hope, excitement, euphoria, resentment, disappointment, anger, and heartbreak, and it’s the emotions that count, not the particulars.
I dream of a world where we don’t discount our emotions. A world where we stop comparing ourselves to others, always coming up short. A world where we realize feelings count more than circumstances. A world where we embrace our unconventional selves.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I know I wrote a blog a few years ago with this same title, but I couldn’t resist using it again because today is May 4th and the next Star Wars cast recently came out. I mean, this title was practically begging to be used.
So, ahem, I’m looking for a new place to live (again!). Since I got back from Vienna in March, it’s been one thing after another with my cottage. Nothing major, little things like my internet not working, my toilet not flushing, my water getting turned off due to a sewer complication, etc. But it’s been enough to remind me, “I don’t like living here.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I moved in, this cottage has been great for what it was, for what I needed at the time, but now I’m ready for something different. Something better. Something more in line with my heart’s desires.
I almost posted a Star Wars pic but I thought that would be overkill. . .
Coupled with my desire to leave is a wee bit of desperation and impatience (for good measure). Whenever I come across something on Craigslist that even remotely suits my needs (i.e. quiet, safe neighborhood, in my price range), I jump on it. If I can’t attend the open house, panic consumes me because, “What if this is my place to live and I’m missing out and nothing like it will show up again and then I’ll be stuck here forever and ever?” I liken it to Black Friday syndrome. You know that phenomenon when people wait outside a department store at 4 a.m. and as soon as the store opens they start grabbing stuff willy-nilly, even if the item is not exactly what they want, but it’s close, and they don’t want someone else to buy the item instead?
I feel that way about housing. The apartment may not be exactly what I’m looking for, but competition is fierce, and I want to move, and what if I don’t find anything better, so gosh darn it, I’ll take it! I have to keep reminding myself desperation and impatience have gotten me into some pickles in the past, so, no, I cannot force myself into saying yes because I’m afraid nothing better will come along.
I realize I’m picky about housing, and believe me, I wish I wasn’t, but a part of accepting myself as I am is realizing if I don’t live somewhere I love, nothing works properly in my life. My health suffers, my work suffers, my friendships suffer. Housing is the hub from which everything else emanates for me so I must not force myself to say yes to anything less than what my heart desires. I must wait until what I’m looking for comes along; reminding myself the world is abundant, despite what my mind tells me.
Obviously this applies not only to housing, but to everything. A million years ago I wrote my sister a birthday card and told her, “Never settle for anything because that’s exactly what you’ll get.” Compromises and adjustments need to be made, absolutely, but compromising is not the same thing as settling in my book.
I dream of a world where we don’t settle for anything less than what our hearts and souls desire. A world where we keep the faith, and have patience that we want will come along. A world where we don’t force ourselves to say “yes” out of fear and desperation, but because we really mean it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I've been in the midst of a housing search once again so I've frantically checked craigslist looking for something suitable. I spoke to my dad the other day, describing to him an apartment and he said, "Rebekah, don't say yes impulsively."
"What do you mean? I said yes impulsively for my apartment on Post St. and that was great."
"But you also said yes to your other places and look how that worked out," he retorted.
Touché.
I told him (and myself) I said yes despite my reservations and that's why my other places didn't work out. My intuition knew they weren't right for me but I said yes out of desperation.
An artistic rendering of intuition.
Having that conversation with my dad I realized that's a big part of what this housing drama has been about — I feel desperate to find a place to live because I want to be settled and I say yes because everything looks good on paper and I'm letting my logical mind overpower my intuition. For instance, I booked a room on Airbnb.com and felt a little uneasy about the place. "Will it be quiet? Will I be able to sleep well?"
I read the reviews and everyone said they had a great night's sleep, the place was quiet and cozy, so despite my wariness I booked it. The studio apartment is in someone's garage so that means insulation between the floor and ceiling is practically nonexistent. That means I can hear when the owners upstairs cough, have conversations, and snore. It's no big deal for regular San Francisco tourists who aren't home much, but I'm not on vacation so I'm here all the time. I also fully admit the problem is me. I was diagnosed with maladaptive stress syndrome, which means my adrenal glands are super dysfunctional and explains all the symptoms I've been having for the past year.
The key point though is I knew there was something I wouldn't like about the place but because I was feeling desperate I ignored my inner guidance. It's easier for me to trust my gut about stuff like, "Walk down this street," or "Talk to this person," but a bajillion times harder when I'm desperate and fearful, when there's a looming deadline in front of me.
The lesson I'm learning (over and over again) this year is HAVE FAITH. Scared you won't find someplace to live and you have to be out by a certain date? Don't settle for the first thing that crosses your path, especially if you have misgivings about it. Trust that you will be provided for, that you are taken care of, and that all of your needs will be met. I'm not saying I'll immediately be able to say yes to intuition and no to fear when I'm desperate, but I am saying I recognize that's what I'm doing and I'm willing to change my behavior. That for today I will trust my internal guidance and say yes only if I mean it 100 percent.
I dream of a world where we trust our intuition even when it's scary. A world where we keep going with our internal guidance even if it sounds like the most horrible idea. A world where we stay in the ebb and flow of life knowing that it's important to turn up the volume on intuition and turn down the volume on the ego.
Another world is not only possible, it's probable.
Wow. Things are happening so quickly in my life it’s making my head spin and bringing up a bit of fear, to be honest. This time last week I was in Italy, which is why I didn’t blog, and the Sunday before that I was in Austria. My whole trip was an experience of grace, of being showered with love from above, and that’s what I want to share with you – how life can be so sweet it can make your heart burst.
The whole trip started off on a good note because I found out my favorite painting, Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss” would be exhibiting in Vienna in honor of Klimt’s 150th birthday:
This painting is 5 ft x 5 ft. I stared at it for a solid 15 minutes taking in the gold plating and all the colors.
When I got to the airport the airline crew told me they could only get me to Germany and not to Vienna because there was a strike in Germany at the time. When I asked what they could do for me, they suggested a later flight connecting through London. On that flight I had an entire row all to myself so I’d say it worked out in my favor.
I was in Vienna primarily for work but I had many sweet moments, like getting a bit turned around and someone coming up to me and saying in German, “Do you need help?” to which I responded in English, “Yes, I’m lost.” The woman walked me to my street before we determined my location was too far away and I’d gotten off the Ubahn (subway) one stop too early.
Also, on my last day in Vienna I finally made it to the Belvedere, which was housing “The Kiss.” I got sooo lost getting to the museum because I walked through a construction zone but it’s a good thing I did because I passed by a store that sold pay-as-you-go phones, a necessary purchase I had been unable to buy until that moment. If I hadn’t gotten lost I wouldn’t have walked by the store. It’s the little moments of grace that really get to me. Like the time I rushed to catch my train to Venice, thinking I’d be late, but instead the train was delayed by 5 minutes. When I heard that announcement I smiled to myself because it’s as if the train had been late for me.
There were also grander examples of grace, like when I was in Rome. I checked facebook the Friday evening I arrived and a monk from the States announced, “I’m in Rome.” I messaged him and said “I’m in Rome!” He told me of a group meditation the next day, and how to get there via the train. I walked on the second to last train car and sitting at the end, in a seat facing me, was a friend of mine. The monk told me I’d see my friend but I didn’t anticipate running into him on the train. I squealed in delight and my friend was surprised to say the least. We ended up spending the day together on Sunday – touring the Colosseum, the church containing Michelangelo’s Moses with the horns, and more. It was an especially sweet encounter because Friday night I felt sad anticipating the friend I’d been traveling with had to go back to France. My heart sunk as I thought about walking around in a strange city by myself, and instead I hung out with my friend and two friends of his. I couldn’t ask for any more grace.
The cap the trip off, on Tuesday morning I slept through my alarm, woke up 10 minutes after my cab arrived, and still managed to catch my flight with time to spare. I don’t know how it happened but it did.
That brings us to today. I found out the day after I came back from Europe I need to move out of my current house – not because my housemates hate me or anything, it’s because they have a really good friend moving to the city. Today I looked at Craigslist just for kicks although I wasn’t prepared to move out until April 21st – everybody is posting things available now or for April 1st – when I stumbled across a listing that sounded perfect. I e-mailed the guy today, looked at the apartment today, and told him today I wanted it. Nothing is confirmed but it’s quite possible I’ll be moving out in a few weeks into an apartment that’s bigger than my old one for less money. The grace I’m experiencing is staggering.
I mention all this not to brag about what’s going on in my life but rather to illustrate anything is possible. To showcase how the universe can conspire to grace us. To give us everything we asked for and more. To demonstrate what it means to be in the universal flow.
I dream of a world where we all experience untold sweetness. A world where go with the grace being bestowed upon us. A world where we take advantage of what comes our way. A world where we live in wonder as we watch the magic unfolding in our lives.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.