A friend of mine shared a quote recently that keeps kicking around in my brain. In the book Journey of the Universe, Brian Swimme and Mary Evelyn Pope write:
“[J]ust as the Milky Way is the universe in the form of a galaxy, and an orchid is the universe in the form of a flower, we are the universe in the form of a human. And every time we are drawn to look up into the night sky and reflect on the awesome beauty of the universe, we are actually the universe reflecting on itself. And this changes everything.”
We are the universe reflecting on itself. We think we are separate, apart, autonomous beings — and we are — but at the same time, we are also the universe. We are the universe in the form of a human. I wrote about that a while ago, the notion that we’re all stardust, but my friend takes that concept a bit further. In essence, the tenet of our spiritual practice is that the universe is coming to know itself through us.
I like this picture because it’s cosmic and it shows an unfolding process. Photo by Mark Tegethoff on Unsplash
I’m not sure how to expound on that concept. It’s not easily explained and instead is more of a feeling or worldview. It’s the recognition I am me — a woman, a writer, etc. — but I am also more than me. There’s a “me” here that will live on after my death. Because I believe in reincarnation that means “I” was once a single-cell organism, then moved up the evolutionary chain to become a plant, then an animal, then a human. As a human, I have made a conscious choice to know the divine, but because I’m already made up of the universe, made up of stardust, that’s another way the universe is coming to know itself through me. I am a conduit, a channel, a vessel for the universe to express itself. We are all of us the universe but we’re wearing different costumes.
I hear frequently that “the world needs the special gift that only you have,” or that we all have our own unique genius. Usually I roll my eyes because it sounds like a trite throwaway, but when I think about the universe knowing itself through me, it takes my ego out of the equation. I’m not sure that makes a lot of sense but in essence I become aware of something bigger than me. My life becomes about more than what I want, what I don’t want, what I have, what I don’t have. My life becomes a spiritual endeavor where I’m dancing and playing with the universe as a co-conspirator. And eventually that play will lead me back to the source of all creation. In the meantime, the life I’m living is like a rose in bloom. Each petal, each experience unfolds and contributes to the rose in its entirety.
I dream of a world where we realize there’s more to us than we’re aware. A world where we recognize the universe knows itself through us. That as much as we think we’re interacting with the world, it’s also that the world is interacting with us. A world where we recognize with each experience we continue to unfold.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s been a rough week. I found out a friend of mine committed suicide and it sent me reeling. Not only am I grieving the loss of my friend, but I’m also questioning the meaning of life, what my priorities are, how I’m spending my days, etc. The inconsequential questions, in other words.
Primarily what her death brought up in me is nihilism. What’s the point of it all? What am I doing here? In our capitalistic culture I see an emphasis on pleasure. On squeezing every last drop of joy out of life that we possibly can. Of doing cool and unusual things – swimming with dolphins in Maui, hiking up Mt. Everest, and then snapping an instagram photo so everyone knows about it. I’m not saying these are inherently bad things, but should they be the point of life? Our entire focus? What about acquiring wealth and power? Is that the point of life? Should we all be aiming to buy a Tesla and run a Fortune 500 company?
Let’s dive deep like this sea turtle.
My friend’s death reminds me we can’t take any of these things with us when we go. When we leave the material world, we leave everything behind. Considering all this put me in a funk. In times like these, I turn to the things I know work: sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Just kidding. I turned to my spiritual practices and reached out to friends.
Looking at my spiritual practices, the point of life is not to suck every ounce of pleasure that we can from it. The point of life is to realize the beloved. To move closer to our nearest and dearest, our most precious entity. A friend reminded me this happens not through withdrawing from life to sit on a mountaintop in meditation. It happens by being here, being present, engaging. I know some spiritual paths expound complete renunciation, but mine is not one of them.
My spiritual path advocates subjective approach and objective adjustment, which as I’ve mentioned before, makes zero sense to me. Until now. Now I understand. It means, “Keep your eyes trained on the divine and adjust how you do that based on circumstances.” For instance, if I broke my leg and couldn’t sit in a proper meditation position, that’s OK, I can meditate lying down. The point is, don’t stop. Keep going. I don’t have to do things perfectly or follow every rule set forth by a spiritual adviser. The important thing is to keep moving.
I’m tearing up writing this because I’m thinking of my friend who felt so hopeless, so despairing, she took her life. I’m tearing up writing this because I, too, know what it’s like to want to stop. To feel hopeless and despairing. To believe nothing will change and to ask, “What’s the point?” I sympathize with my friend because sometimes to continue moving feels like the hardest possible thing. But I also know for me there is no other choice. Death is like changing a t-shirt, according to my spiritual teacher, so that means I’ll reincarnate in another body and trade one set of circumstances for another.
If the point of life is sacred union with something greater than myself, I have to live in such a way that I experience the sacred and holy beyond when I’m meditating. I am not the Buddha. I don’t have the patience to sit in endless meditation day after day, night after night. I have to engage in the world, and to engage in the world in a way that doesn’t feel pointless, means I must feel the touch of the eternal even in the ephemeral.
I dream of a world where we see the divine in all things. A world where we keep going even when times are tough. A world where we feel our feelings and keep in mind feelings are not facts.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Doesn’t the title of this post make you want to break into song? If I felt more confident in my singing voice I’d serenade you. Ahem, anyway, all this week I’ve contemplated the circle of life. Within the span of 24 hours I found out two people I know are pregnant and another lost her mother. The juxtaposition of the two was enough to give me emotional whiplash.
In Sanskrit, the term for this is saḿsára, which means the entity that constantly keeps moving. As we all know, that’s what life does. It keeps moving even when we want it to stop, even when it seems like the world should stand still, it keeps spinning. It’s both a blessing and a curse. I don’t have any particular great insights. The whole thing sounds exhausting, and feels that way too. I’d like a break, but maybe that’s also particularly true for me because for a full week I’ve had a nightmare every night.
Isn’t this a great photo?
The “break” though doesn’t come from shuffling off this mortal coil, at least according to the spiritual philosophy I ascribe to. Because I believe in reincarnation, once I die, I’ll be reborn. The circle of life continues not only in general, but for me as well. Death and birth, death and birth. When does it end?
My spiritual teacher says, “Whichever way we look, we see only the external dynamism of everything, and as we witness this external dynamism, we feel pleasure when we get something, we feel pain when we lose something. If we try to discover the ultimate reality hidden within the apparent reality, we shall feel neither the momentary pleasure of gain in the mundane world, nor the sorrow of loss in the mundane world. The Supreme Entity which is neither to be obtained nor to be lost will remain always with us, and we shall remain absorbed in the eternal bliss of the companionship of that Supreme Entity.”
That sounds nice right now. To remain absorbed in eternal bliss. To escape the cycle of pain and pleasure, death and birth.
I write about these things because I need the reminder, and I suspect others do too. I need the reminder of what’s permanent, of what I can attach to, of what’s constant. Otherwise it’s easy for my mood to swing from high to low in an instant and the whole thing is exhausting. All I can do, all that I try to do, is keep my mind trained on my higher power, on the divine and loving presence that’s with me always so that eventually two become one.
I dream of a world where we all feel eternal bliss. A world where we train our sights on a constant, permanent entity. A world where we escape the circle of life.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I had an interesting experience this week. A friend posted this article about how family trauma can be inherited. I’d heard of the concept before, especially when epigenetics came to the scene, but I didn’t think the issues I’m addressing right now could be related. I thought epigenetics made me more prone to overreact to stress because my ancestors experienced stressful situations. Stuff like that. However, reading that article had me rethink some things.
One of the issues that’s plagued me for a long time is a fear I’ll be replaced, usurped, or forgotten. I attributed it to being a middle child, but this week I contemplated whether the issue was rooted in my ancestral lineage. Before World War II, both of my grandparents were married to other people and had families, all of whom were killed. By the time my grandparents married each other, in a way, their previous families were replaced, by the living.
This picture! How perfect.
My mother has shown me a family portrait taken before the war – a whole gaggle of people – and then she points to a few people and says, “These are the only ones who survived.” I have no idea who the rest of my relations are, I don’t know their names, or their stories. They have been forgotten. Even typing this right now I’m tearing up because I feel the grief around that, these lost family members.
I started meditating after reading the article about inherited family trauma, and I said to all of my ancestors, “I’m inviting you back into the family. I’m acknowledging you. You have a place. You are not forgotten and your role will not be usurped.” Afterward, I became frenzied and manic. Energy buzzed through me and hours later after I calmed down, I felt relief in way that I haven’t before. Instead of feeling insecure, worrying that I’ll be replaced by someone else, I felt an assurance that I am irreplaceable.
I am fascinated by the whole thing because so often I think of myself living in a vacuum – my issues started with me and that’s the end of it – but this experience has me thinking perhaps that’s not true. My spiritual teacher says we are affected by our environments and by external sources. Not just in the sense of, “It’s cold outside and that makes me cold,” but “I live with drug dealers so I’m more likely to deal drugs myself.” We all know this, don’t we? It makes complete sense, but it didn’t occur to me until the other day that the effects of someone else’s actions who I’ve never met, who I don’t know anything about, could be impacting me today. Not in terms of government policies, but personal traumas like being locked up in a mental institution or losing a child.
The good news is this stuff can be healed. Mark Wolynn, who wrote a book called It Didn’t Start With You, says:
“On a higher level, I believe these traumas are important, because they lead us on a hero’s journey. We enter the path through introspection, through looking at what’s uncomfortable, by being able to tolerate what’s uncomfortable, and then by journeying in to what’s uncomfortable and emerging on the other side in a more expansive place, using what was contracting us as the source of our expansion. Many of us don’t realize that the trauma we are born to heal is also the seed of our expansion.”
I dream of a world where we delve into what’s uncomfortable. A world where we understand our issues are not ours alone and may have a root in what happened to our ancestors. A world where we understand we all have carryovers from the past and we finally put the baggage down.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
For better or for worse, I take responsibility for everything in my life. Poor? That’s my doing. Single? My fault. Sick? That’s on me. That’s the message we receive over and over in our society; that we’re the master of our fate and the captain of our soul. However, I’m reminded, again, that’s not entirely true.
One of my friends has been heartbroken over and over again. He mentioned it to a psychic and the psychic said my friend is repeatedly getting his heart broken because in a past life he was an abuser of women, and in this life, being on the receiving end of heartbreak is his retribution. The karma is being balanced, if you will. Furthermore, the psychic said my friend’s current beau was one of those abused women in a past life, which explains so much about their relationship dynamic. The beau is very timid around my friend, walking on eggshells, and learning how to reclaim her power in the relationship. The two were thrown together in this life because they have some unfinished business.
This? I’m not responsible for.
When my friend told me this story, I felt such relief because I’m reminded I am not to blame for everything in my life. That there are forces at work in my life and everyone else’s life that I haven’t thought about or even begun to understand. It’s like dominoes — one falling domino sets off a chain reaction, but the reaction may not manifest until down the road. Things I’ve done in past lives are still affecting me now. It’s a law of nature that for every action there will be a reaction, and knowing that I feel relief.
Maybe I’m single not because I choose the wrong men or am too picky or a leper, or any other reason I could come up with that points the finger at me. Maybe I’m single for reasons I haven’t even entertained, like things I did in a past life. Similarly, maybe I’m not a world-renowned inspirational speaker for the same reasons. Maybe all of it has absolutely nothing to do with me and instead I’m undergoing reactions for things I did in the distant past.
Instead of thinking of myself as the master of my fate, maybe it’s better to think of myself as a musician. Right now I’m like the first violinist who has her sheet music but is forgetting there are other musicians in the orchestra, and furthermore that there’s a conductor overseeing the whole piece. I like to think of myself as the conductor, but I’m not, I’m the violinist.
I am extremely tired so I don’t know if I’m getting my point across, but what I’m trying to say here is we aren’t in control of every aspect of our lives. We aren’t to blame for every crappy thing that happens to us, nor are we to blame for every good thing that happens to us. There is something else present, and that presence is God or higher power or whatever term you have for it. For better or for worse, we are not alone and we are not in charge.
I dream of a world where we remember higher power is present in all things and situations. A world where we realize we are not in control of everything nor are we to blame for everything. A world where we take ourselves off the hook and remember we are not the conductor of this orchestra, but rather we are the musicians.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Reincarnation is a belief system that makes sense to me; it fits in with the experiences I’ve had and the people I’ve met. Sometimes I meet someone and our connection is instantaneous, as if we’ve known each other before. And I’ve visited places where my feet seemed to know the way even if my brain didn’t, which suggests to me I’ve been there before in another life.
Reincarnation seems to me like a merry-go-round: I’m born, I live, I die. I’m born, I live, I die. On and on it goes. Death is like changing to a different horse – the circumstances are a bit different, but I’m still on the merry-go-round. I’m starting to think I’d like to get off the ride and try something new. But if death is not an exit strategy, just a chance to change horses, what to do?
I couldn’t find a merry-go-round, but this is pretty close.
According to the spiritual philosophy I’ve read,the only thing to do is to stop taking ownership for everything and make it about God/Brahma/Source/the divine. Instead of thinking, “I’m browsing the internet,” think, “The divine is browsing the internet.” I know, this is where my merry-go-round analogy falls apart, but what I’m trying to say, is instead of making everything about me, I have to make everything about God if I want to get out of the cycle of reincarnation. And that means everything, which already fits in with the notion I wrote about that everything contains consciousness.
It means God is the one typing this blogpost, it means God is the one reading this blogpost, it means God is this blogpost. I can’t take credit for any of my actions because as soon as I identify with my ego, that means for better or for worse I have to undergo the consequences and repercussions. Sometimes the consequences are pretty cool, like winning an award, but if the goal of my life is really to dance with the divine and stop the reincarnation cycle, then I don’t want any consequences from my actions either negative or positive.
There’s a pretty popular Sanskrit chant/mantra that sums this up well. Some people chant it before eating or when they get out of the shower. The translation is:
Salutations to the ancestors, salutations to inventors. The act of offering is Brahma; that which is offered is Brahma; the one to whom the offering is made is Brahma; and the person making the offering is Brahma. One will merge in Brahma after completing the duty assigned to him/her by Brahma.
I know that’s a lot of the word “Brahma.” Like I said to my dad yesterday, don’t get hung up on the word. Find one that resonates. For me, right now, saying Brahma doesn’t mean much. But if I say everything is God or the divine, that works better. The point is to start to get out of my own head a little and recognize the world is a bigger, broader place than what I realize. And also not to take things so seriously because instead, I recognize I’m an instrument. Life isn’t about me and my happiness, it’s about what can be worked through me. When I start to view things from that perspective, I’m closer to getting off the merry-go-round.
I dream of a world where we set our egos aside. A world where we let ourselves be instruments. A world where we make everything about the divine. A world where we stop accumulating actions and reactions and finally get off the reincarnation merry-go-round.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.