Something funny happened to me. This morning I read in Tosha’s Silver’s book It’s Not Your Money that sometimes when we’re angry we need to break something. She recommends plates but it could be anything – stuffed animals, coconuts, phone books. I felt the urge to break something but then talked myself out of it because I didn’t want to deal with the clean up. Even if I broke plates in my garage I can’t leave shards lying around. I mean, I suppose I could, but people park in there. What would happen to their tires? Therefore I dismissed breaking anything and considered buying a coconut later this week.
I grabbed my water glass and wouldn’t you know it – it hit my counter in such a way that it shattered. Not into a million pieces thank goodness, but enough to mean I pulled out the vacuum cleaner. It was kind of satisfying to hear and see the glass smash AND it was also a pain in the butt to clean up the debris. Some people might think my experience just now was a coincidence but I’m not a butterfingers. I don’t regularly break dishes. In fact, the last time I broke a water glass was more than four years ago, so we can’t chalk it up to me being a klutz.
Not my glasses. Photo by Jana Sabeth on Unsplash
I’m writing about this, I’m making meaning out of the broken glass, because I think it indicates what’s in my best good will happen. I may try to prevent it, but it will happen. Also, sometimes what’s best for me will hurt or be annoying. In this instance, I cut myself. I bled a little. And I had to clean up the broken glass. It wasn’t fun, I didn’t enjoy it, but the part of me that needed to break something feels satisfied. Emotionally I feel better.
I’m also thinking about samskaras here, or reactive momenta. Samskaras are related to the law of karma, or the law of action. As we know, for every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. But what happens if the reaction takes a second? Or more than a second? That potential reaction, the seed of the reaction to an action, is called a samskara in Sanskrit. According to my spiritual tradition, we carry these samskaras with us from one lifetime to the next. When a samskara is expressed, we often attribute that to luck, both good and bad.
I spend a lot of time thinking about luck. I long for good luck and I worry about bad luck. “Worry” isn’t quite the right word, it’s more like obsess. Especially when it comes to safety. I’m scared to go to movie theaters because I’m worried about mass shootings. I’m nervous attending religious services for the same reason. The first thing I do when I enter a space is notice the exits in case I need to make a quick getaway. Some of this is warranted, I do live in the U.S. after all, but I worry about these things as if noticing them will prevent them from happening. If I’m hypervigilant, then nothing can happen to me, right? Weeeellllllllll.
Another way to think of samskaras is to equate them with a curriculum. There are certain things that are meant for us in this lifetime. We can’t run away from them as much as we try. It’s why the healthiest person you know gets cancer. Or your friend can’t find a job despite applying all over creation. It would be easy to sink into defeatism here. To say, “Oh well. That’s my fate. Can’t do anything about it,” but that’s both true and not true. We make new samskaras all the time. How we show up in the world still matters AND certain things are inevitable. I think what this comes down to is serenity, encapsulated by the serenity prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Right now, I’m figuring out what I can change and what I can’t. I’m working on accepting what’s coming to me, both good and bad. How can I be more serene? That, my friends, is the work.
I dream of a world where we recognize what’s needed in our lives will happen. A world where we understand what’s necessary isn’t always pleasant. A world where we realize someone else’s life curriculum isn’t necessarily ours and vice versa. A world where we live in serenity as best we can one day at a time.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Right now I’m editing a re-translation of a philosophy book for my yoga and meditation group. It’s engrossing stuff (for me) because I’m curious about how the world works. I’m always interested in the “why” of everything and this book is answering many questions. One of the tenets, which is also a law of nature, is that for every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. Something I find fascinating is the book talks about how inescapable that is.
My spiritual teacher says some people will pray to escape the consequences of their actions, or perform rituals to appeal to the gods, but it’s not possible. All that can happen is a delay, like paying back a loan. You can set the terms for 18 months or three years, but the loan will be repaid. Also, for the purposes of this post I won’t address miracles, like when a person was supposed to die but their life was saved. I’m speaking in general terms about how both good and bad, our actions have consequences.
Globes seemed like the perfect image to illustrate this post. Photo by Duangphorn Wiriya on Unsplash
In looking at our current president, I see life catching up to him. The noose is tightening around his neck, so to speak. The evidence continues to mount regarding Russia meddling with the U.S. election to place him into power. Trump is being exposed for all his wrongdoings like laundering money, assaulting women, etc. In some ways it seems like he’s untouchable because we’ve known these things for years, and yet he remains not only free, but still in power. It boggles the mind, and personally, boils my blood.
I’m reminded here that what goes around comes around. One of the other things the philosophy book mentions is that not all consequences manifest during the lifetime in which they incurred, meaning sometimes they manifest in another life. However, no one is invulnerable. No one can escape their fate, no matter how many people they pay off.
I realize this post isn’t very sunshine-y but that’s where I’m at today, feeling somber. I’m thinking about how people, myself included, want to lie for self-preservation. How it’s easier to say, “I didn’t do that,” rather than admit the truth and deal with the repercussions. The repercussions aren’t always fun, but they will catch up to us eventually. That’s why my spiritual teacher cautions taking good actions. Good actions result in good consequences and bad actions result in bad consequences.
In the short term we may benefit from lying, cheating, and stealing, but in the long run we will not. I’m reminded of that quote from John Wesley who said, “Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.” Words to live by.
I dream of a world where we realize our actions have consequences. A world where we understand we can’t run away from repercussions. A world where we try our best to do all the good we can by all the means we can. A world where we remember what goes around comes around and we act accordingly.
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.
What will unfold in the future?
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.
The other day the blinds fell off my window. They landed in such a way that nothing was broken or harmed – no small task considering my desk sits in front of the window and is littered with knickknacks, a monitor, my computer, my printer, etc. When the blinds, fell it got me thinking about the unavoidable, uncontrollable things in life.
Those blinds? They had to fall because the tab that locks them into place became loose and I pulled them in such a way the entire contraption crashed to the floor. However, it was pure luck that kept those blinds from hitting me in the head, or smashing into my computer monitor, or destroying my trinkets. But was it really luck? I don’t think it was. When I reflect on my life, it’s clear there is some kind of benevolent force watching out for me – call it higher power, call it God, call it a guru, a guardian angel – but there is definitely something.
I’d like to think in some ways I’m wrapped in yarn.
Contemplating the blinds, I started musing about the not-so-pleasant things that are also out of my control, like getting hit by a car or broken into or mugged or anything else. Maybe for whatever reason (fate, karma, samskaras) certain things must happen, they must take place, but a benevolent force is softening the blow for us, keeping it from being as terrible as it could be.
When I got hit by a car as a pedestrian in November 2013, all I could think was, “Why me? Why did this happen to me and why didn’t any benevolent force stop it?” All the faith-oriented people around me kept saying, “Your higher power is the one that kept you from needing to go to the hospital!” but I didn’t buy it. Why should I put my faith and trust in some unseen force to keep me safe if I’m not going to be safe? If I’m going to get hit by a car anyway? What I’m coming to here is acceptance – I cannot keep someone from hitting me again or breaking into my home anymore than I already am by cautiously crossing the street and locking my doors. I’ve spent a good chunk of my life worrying about these things and it certainly hasn’t been beneficial. In fact, it’s kept me in a lot of fear.
I said to a friend the other day I struggle with turning this safety stuff over to my higher power, but I can at least give it a shot. If need be, I can always start worrying again, but I’d like to try this trust thing. The blinds are a small example of being taken care of, but I’ve seen larger examples too, like trees that fall in such a way they avoid houses and cars. So maybe for today I can affirm my higher power will keep me safe when possible, but when something must happen to me, at the very least higher power will soften the blow.
I dream of a world where we turn over our fear of future negative events. A world where we trust that some things are inevitable, but there is still a benevolent force watching out for us. A world where we have faith the blow will be softened.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’ve been having a tough time since this car accident trying to make sense of why it happened. As much as I don’t want to, I keep replaying the incident and I keep crying asking myself “why?” It’s one of the few times something has happened to me that I can’t explain, that I can’t justify as being the result of some previous known action. When I was 15 I was stung 23 times by yellow jackets, but that’s because I ran over a nest. Three years ago, I sprained my ankle while walking down the stairs because I wasn’t looking as I turned up the volume on my cellphone.
This though? This I cannot explain — I had a walk signal, the car had stopped, he saw me, and yet as I crossed he hit me anyway. The accident keeps replaying in my head like a bad song. Most people tell me some things cannot be explained, or sh*t happens and that’s the end of it. I can’t accept that. I can’t swallow that bad things happen and that’s the end of it. Even disasters like floods and hurricanes I understand because they are consequences of natural forces.
What I’m falling back on is my faith, my spiritual philosophy. The night of the accident I felt some weirdness in the air. A minute before I was hit, I contemplated what I would do if I was hit by a car. I’m starting to believe the incident was inescapable, that for whatever reason it had to happen to me. In my spiritual path, we believe in the law of karma, or action, but it’s not limited to my current lifetime. Karma can carry over for many lifetimes and follows the principle of physics — for every action there is a reaction. Maybe this car accident was a reaction from something lifetimes ago that finally got expressed.
I bring this up, the idea of something being inescapable, because it’s the only way I know to continue to feel safe in the world. I’ve done some trauma work with my therapist and she reminds me the world is usually safe, that I’ve crossed the street billions of times and been fine. Believing the accident was meant to be allows me to cross the street in confidence (because I’m already a defensive pedestrian). It allows me to believe I really am safe and protected. That perhaps like I wrote about in May, I can be safe within danger because this incident was not preventable. That maybe higher power is still taking care of me all the time, is protecting me, but the car accident was something I had to experience. Maybe the reason will become clear, or maybe it’s just one of those karmic reactions, but I don’t need to worry every time I see a car driving toward me.
I have no idea whether this post will help other people, but for me the way I’m making sense of the senseless is by choosing to believe in the laws of nature, choosing to believe some things are not preventable — especially when they seem so deliberate as in my case — and that I can still be safe, protected, and taken care of even when I undergo hardship. Maybe there’s some sense within the senseless after all.
I dream of a world where we’re able to accept some things are meant to be. A world where we still have trust and faith in something greater than ourselves especially when life hands us lemons. A world where we’re able to grapple with life’s difficulties and still retain our joy and optimism.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.