Facebook keeps showing me pictures from trips I took to Europe years ago, including one from Denmark in 2016. What I remember about that trip, other than laughing and exploring the country with a dear friend, is how everything reminded me of something else.
For instance, gazing out a train window, I could have sworn I was in Iowa, not Denmark, because the land was so similar. At the beach, the combination of the sand’s color, dunes, and water reminded me of the Outer Banks in North Carolina. I know there are places in Denmark that are completely unique, but all in all, whenever I travel, I’m reminded everything is more the same than it is different. Yes, the landscape, but also the people.
I may not speak the same language as someone else, but we both care about our friends and family. We both want to be happy, to feel secure in where we live. We all have the same needs, and in times like these, all times really, it’s important to keep focusing on what binds us.
In our world, there are some people who are trying to create division. There are some people who use one group or another as a scapegoat for the world’s problems. They speak in broad strokes like, “All of these people are like this,” or “Those people are like that,” which is dangerous. When we enhance separateness, that creates conflict because at the root of mistreatment is an “us” and “them” mindset. It’s easier to justify atrocious acts when a person becomes someone who is “not like me.” Or even worse, not human.
My spiritual teacher corroborates this and says “us” and “them” thinking makes different groups become more violent toward each other. We’ve seen this over and over again. Frankly, haven’t we had enough? I’m not so naïve to think there will never be any conflicts in the world, but I think we start moving in a better direction when we realize, to paraphrase Shakespeare, that we all bleed when we are pricked, that we all feel pain and sorrow, that we all want to be happy and to realize our dreams. We want the same things even if how we go about achieving them is different.
I’ve used this quote before but it continues to be relevant. My spiritual teacher adds, “Human society is just like a garland which is made of different types of flowers, woven together by one common thread. The overall beauty of the garland is dependent upon the beauty of each flower. Likewise, each strata of society must be equally strengthened if we are to maintain the unity and solidarity of society.”
We must all be lifted up. We must support one another. We must see each other as people who are just like us if we have any hope of maintaining unity and solidarity. Peace comes from a place of connection and that starts with recognizing we are more similar than different.
I dream of a world where we recognize what unites us rather than divides us. A world where we focus on our similarities, not our differences. A world where we remember people are people everywhere. A world where we work together to create as much peace as we can.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s funny how the body remembers things and conjures up memories for us – right now I’m reminded exactly 13 years ago I was in Europe for a New Year’s retreat. I haven’t thought about that trip in years. I think it’s coming up now not only because of the date, but also due to my emotional landscape. I’m in a liminal space where I’ve left something behind, but I’m not yet fully in the something new, which if you think about it encapsulates this year. This is the last week of 2020, which we’re all ready to put behind us, but we’re not yet in 2021.
How does this relate to my trip to Europe in 2007? It was a time of my life when I was so ready to move to San Francisco but hadn’t yet. It was a period I had so much trepidation about the future and no idea how everything would work out, or even if it would. Plus, the trip itself was filled with lots of anxiety as I had numerous “near misses” and “almosts.” I flew into London first so I could travel to the retreat site in Sweden with people I knew. En route to Sweden, first my bus didn’t come when it was supposed to, and then the doors didn’t open at my stop. When I moved further up the bus to the open doors, they shut in my face. That meant I was late getting to the airport and worried I would miss my flight, which would defeat the entire purpose of traveling to London in the first place.
I didn’t miss my flight, somehow I made it in the nick of time. Everything worked out. And that was the theme of the entire trip. During the retreat I became ill, but there was an acupuncturist onsite who gave me a treatment. On the way back to London, I traveled alone. I made a pitstop in a Swedish grocery store and went up to a random woman and asked her to translate ingredients into English for me, which she did. I took a side trip to France and had a minute to spare before they closed check in for the EuroStar, which is a train that shuttles people from London to Paris. I stayed with an acquaintance in Paris but she neglected to give me her apartment number and I couldn’t reach her to ask for it, so I literally knocked on every door of the apartment building trying to find her. An apartment building without an elevator, I might add.
That trip was not all sunshine and roses. At the time I hated every mishap and near mishap, but now I laugh and shake my head. Now, I feel gratitude that despite the hardships, everything worked out. I was OK, I was taken care of, help showed up when I needed it. That’s what 2020 was for me as well: not all sunshine and roses but I was OK, I was taken care of, help showed up when I needed it. Instead of tossing this year away like worn out wrapping paper, I’m grateful for the lessons I learned, the friendships I deepened, and the grace I received.
According to my spiritual practices, God/the universe/Brahma/Cosmic Consciousness, whatever name you want to use, loves us unconditionally. Wants the best for us. Wants us to be happy, joyous, and free. The God of my understanding is not Santa Claus and doesn’t do things to punish us. Everything happens for our benefit, even the hard stuff. When I look back at my trip to Europe 13 years ago, I know that’s true. Because while this post focused on the hardships, in that trip I learned important things about myself, like I could never live in Europe and that I can navigate a foreign country on my own without speaking the language. Plus, I met people who changed the trajectory of my life.
When I think back to my trip, I’m reminded I can feel afraid and still show up for myself. I’m reminded even when things are hard, I can still muddle through. And that’s a lesson I think we all learned this year.
I dream of a world where we realize how strong we truly are. A world where we recognize we show up for life even when it is hard, even if it takes us a while. A world where we’re proud of ourselves for our courage and tenacity. A world where we realize there’s magic in the muck.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This week I’ve seethed with envy multiple times. That’s nothing new and if you’ve been reading this blog for a while you know I semi-regularly feel envy, especially regarding my career. When I see someone who has what I want, I don’t view it as a sign that I, too, can achieve what they achieved. I know I’m supposed to, but what can I say? I’m a flawed human being.
As I’ve wrestled with the feeling of envy this week, a story kept coming to mind that I shared with numerous friends. Way back in 2005 I studied abroad in London. When I was there, I wanted to travel to Italy but it didn’t happen – I ran out of money and time. For the next seven years, whenever someone talked about their trip to Italy, I burned with envy. I cannot convey how badly I wanted to go, how much that dream percolated within me.
Flashforward to 2012. I was working for a radiology publication and they decided to send me to Vienna, Austria, to cover a conference. I asked them if I could take time off after the conference for travel and they said yes, which meant I was flying to Europe on someone else’s dime. As you likely know, plane tickets to Europe aren’t cheap.
Also, because of the timing, a friend of mine who was teaching English in France had off for her spring break. That meant not only could I finally travel to Italy, but also tour it with a friend. That trip? There were hard moments but it was also one of the most grace-filled trips of my life. I saw Michelangelo’s David for free because my friend and I “happened” to visit the museum on International Women’s Day and that meant free admission for us women.
I stayed with friends in Florence who I’d met well after my study abroad experience who showed me around the city, taking me to the best vegetarian restaurants. While in Rome, I checked Facebook and a monk I knew 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 Shawn, a friend of mine.
The monk told me I’d see Shawn but I didn’t anticipate running into him on the train. I squealed in delight and Shawn was surprised to say the least. We ended up spending a day together touring the Colosseum, the church containing Michelangelo’s Moses with the horns, and more.
Why am I sharing this story? Because it reminds me the universe is conspiring on our behalf to bring us what we want, but there are more elements involved that just our desire. In the U.S. we sometimes operate with the myth that if we work hard enough, we’ll achieve everything we want. That’s not true for many reasons – including racism and sexism to name a couple – but it’s also not true because we’re not the only ones in charge of making a dream happen. There are other factors at play – like timing and relationships.
My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful, otherwise it is a sure failure.”
What that means for me, today, is remembering my dream of being a bestselling author with social cachet will only come true if it’s the will of the Cosmos, and furthermore, these dreams have multiple moving parts. My desire is only a small part of the process. I will keep taking the necessary actions, but in the meantime, I’m offering this dream over to Divine Love. Maybe it will be like my trip to Italy where I’m surprised and delighted by what unfolds.
I dream of a world where we realize hard work is not the only ingredient required to make a dream come true. A world where we remember there are other factors at play. A world where we understand nothing manifests unless it’s in alignment with Cosmic will and desire. A world where we do our part and surrender the rest.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This past week I canceled a trip to Washington, D.C. I had planned for later this month. Way back in April when I originally intended to go, I figured by the fall surely everything with COVID-19 would be sorted. That we’d shelter in place for a few months and then we’d be able to go about our business as usual.
As you know, that didn’t happen and it’s quite likely the rest of the year will continue in the same fashion it already has. Canceling my trip was somehow the watershed moment for me as I’ve realized how much this year has taken from all of us. I’ve cried so many times this week. I’ve grieved my inability to travel abroad as well as domestically. I’ve grieved how I can’t be closer than 6 feet to my friends without worry. I’ve grieved that plans and parties have all been scuppered. This year has been rough.
It’s not only COVID-19, it’s all of it. It’s Black Lives Matter, it’s climate change, it’s Donald Trump and the circus he’s ringleading. It’s fear of the future as well as fear of the present. I watch television shows and movies filmed before the pandemic and I feel wistful and envious of life before. When we took physical presence for granted. When we shook each other’s hands without a second thought. When we didn’t feel alarmed every time someone coughed. I’m sad. I’m really sad.
I posted on Instagram that I wish I could pull a Rip Van Winkle and wake up when the world is different. It’s true, I do. And at the same time as often happens with grief, the world becomes sharper so I’m recognizing what I truly care about. For me, this year is clarifying how much I miss my family and want to spend more time with them. It’s also clear to me if I don’t leave my bubble every three to four months, if I don’t travel somewhere, I lose my freaking mind. And because I can’t actually do that in the way I’d like, I’m dreaming more. I’m using Pinterest for the first time ever creating a board of all the places I want to visit. I haven’t made a list like that since high school.
For other people, the pandemic is providing clarity in terms of their living situations. They’re moving apartments, houses, states, even countries. They’re recognizing they don’t actually like where they live and doing something about it. The same is true with relationships: People are either breaking up or they’re settling down. This pandemic is shaking us all up like a snow globe, which has its pros as well as cons.
Something else this period is highlighting for me is how precious time is. It’s the commodity we can’t have back. I don’t particularly miss restaurants or going to shows. I miss lying on the grass next to someone else and watching the clouds go by, calling out the different shapes they make. I miss reading a book on the couch while my feet are brushing against my sister’s.
As a friend of mine says, this year is refocusing our attention on simple pleasures. Instead of worrying so much about achieving, progressing, and doing, in the U.S. anyway we’re slowing down, reconnecting with family and friends, and remembering what truly matters. In case it wasn’t clear, what truly matters is you.
I dream of a world where we remember what’s most important. A world where we value our relationships and connections over material goods. A world where we cherish the moments we have with one another as we recognize how finite they truly are.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This weekend I surprised myself. I did things I’d consider out of character — things other people do, but not me. I flew up to Ashland, Ore., for a quick up and back trip and started chatting with the woman next to me on my flight. During the course of the conversation I told her I didn’t have a car and wasn’t sure how I was getting to and fro. She said, “Well, let me give you my number and if you need a ride while you’re out there, give me a call.” I said, “Actually, what I really need is a ride from the airport to my hostel.”
She told me her parents were picking her up but she was sure they wouldn’t mind dropping me off. “Really?” and she replied in the affirmative. So I got into the car with a stranger that I didn’t pay to transport me. In my world you don’t do that sort of thing because it’s dangerous. Even getting into a lyft or a taxi provokes anxiety within me so trusting a total stranger is antithetical to my normal behavior. My whole weekend was like that. I made conversations with strangers. I stayed in a hostel and socialized in the evenings. Even staying in a hostel is unusual for me.
Normally I stay in hotels or airbnbs because I enjoy my personal space. I’m highly particular and want to control as many variables as I can. However, due to financial limitations, and also the desire to stay close to town, I slept at a hostel. I’ve heard stories of people making friends with strangers or the magic of connection during travel experiences, but my magical experiences tend to involve thinking I missed my train but the train was running late. I barely ask strangers for directions much less make conversation with them.
It may seem like a small thing, but for me it’s indicative I’m trusting myself and the universe more. I’m starting to view the world as safe and friendly as opposed to scary and antagonistic. It’s for many reasons — the chiropractor I’m seeing, the work I continue to do in therapy — but what stands out to me is the way we experience the world and ourselves can change. How the world appears to us is not stagnant or stale. It’s dynamic and vibrant and we are the same. The title of this post is “out of character” but it’s just as true there are many facets to my personality and perhaps this Rebekah is someone I hadn’t met yet, but she’s been here all along.
My spiritual teacher speaks to this through his words and actions. His first initiate was a dangerous criminal who tried to rob him. That criminal completely turned his life around and became ethical, sincere, and devotional. No one would have predicted that person existed inside that criminal, but he did. And the same is true for all of us. There are internal people we know and internal people we don’t know, but it’s all us. And maybe “out of character” is like the people I met this weekend — strangers that become friends.
I dream of a world where we recognize there is more to us than we think. A world where we understand acting out of character just means a part of us is unfamiliar and unknown. A world where we realize we all have many parts and facets to our personality and perhaps it’s time to say hello.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m reminded even when life doesn’t look the way we want it to, grace can still be found. On a macro level, there are some aspects of my life that are not how I’d pictured them, and it’s easy to sink into woe. At the same time, there can be grace in the gunk.
I’m not saying to avoid feeling woeful – everyone needs a good cry now and again – but it’s interesting for me to note in the midst of not-fun things I can experience wonder and delight. Life is complicated like that.
Last weekend I traveled to Philadelphia for a wedding of a dear friend of mine. It was beautiful and touching and sweet, but I anticipated that. What I didn’t anticipate were the other moments of grace that remind me there is a divine intelligence in the world, and that it cares about me.
Following the last dance at the wedding, the brides (it was a lesbian wedding) rushed out the door under a canopy of rustling wands that we, the guests, held above their heads. Therefore, I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye, which saddened me. The next day, while in the lobby, the elevator door pinged open and there stood one of the brides. I was able to say a few words before the door shut again and we went our separate ways. Quite literally in this case because she descended to the ground floor while I ascended to the fifth. An hour later, I took the elevator to the ground floor and ran into the other bride, my friend, while she waited for her elevator. We had a longer conversation and a proper hug goodbye. If I had left a few moments earlier or later, I would have missed her.
The same day, I trundled around Philadelphia with my rolling luggage, soaking up the sights. Due to losing my way, I arrived at the train station at 4:25, the exact time my train was scheduled to depart. I purchased my ticket and was informed the train was running two minutes late, which meant I just barely caught my train. And I do mean just barely. The train doors had already closed by the time I arrived, but the train conductor reopened them for me.
A few more things happened, like my flight arriving half an hour early even though we left later than our departure time. They aren’t huge things, and they don’t fix the macro issues in my life like my health or my finances, but they’re enough to remind me grace is here, too. I can have poor health and poor finances and still be taken care of. Furthermore, I didn’t orchestrate any of the things I experienced. I didn’t manifest it or attract it or visualize it or have any control in the matter whatsoever.
And that’s the thing about grace – it’s not rational, it doesn’t follow a formula. It just comes. My spiritual teacher says God’s grace is for all – both the virtuous and nonvirtuous. Nobody is unimportant or insignificant. Everyone is a divine child and grace is always with us, even in the gunk.
I dream of a world where we all feel graced. A world where we feel the love that surrounds us. A world where we know grace is not a reward for good behavior, it’s given regardless. A world where we find grace in the gunk.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
“Difficulties can never be greater than your capacity to solve them.” — Shrii Shrii Anandamurti
Usually when I encounter a difficulty I want to run away or I groan and lament the state of affairs. I’ll wish and wish things were different and spend ages wondering why they’re not. This week, however, I’ve been getting into the sentiment of the quote by Anandamurti. I’m building upon my strength, and self-trust, remembering no matter what happens I can manage it.
Here’s a small example. On Tuesday, I flew to Vienna. I had a connecting flight in Germany and I felt nauseated. I spent most of the flight clenching my teeth together, doing what I could to not throw up. I dreaded the idea of getting sick on the flight but you know what? It happened and it was fine. (I mean, it wasn’t pleasant, but I dealt with it.)
I’m reminded we are powerful beings, that we can overcome all obstacles. That life is not so much about avoiding drama or difficulty but instead remembering no matter what happens we shall overcome them. There are about a jillion stories of people overcoming adversity because you know what? People do it every day. Not just the big stuff but little things too. My colleague had her wallet stolen in Vienna at a restaurant and yeah, it sucked, but she’s doing an amazing job of continuing to take care of herself, of laughing about it, because in the end, she can overcome this difficulty and move on.
We all can. We have more strength, power, and resources than we know. We are resilient creatures, we’re adaptable, we can overcome anything. I want to put my faith in that and remember that no matter what happens in my life I can manage it.
I dream of a world where we understand our resilience. A world where instead of being scared of difficulties, we remember we can overcome them. A world where we keep marching ahead, waging war against all difficulties because we’re confident victory is guaranteed.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I didn't intend to write this today because I'm on vacation; however I'm stuck at the Zurich airport waiting for my flight, which thus far has been delayed by four hours due to a mechanical failure. I said something last night at a group meditation I realized I feel strongly about: "I'm learning 'being in the flow' isn't always a pleasant and easy experience; sometimes it's like kicking upstream in a river — you're facing a different direction, but you're still in the flow."
This is a picture *I* took of a place I visited in Switzerland. I thought it would be cooler than a picture of a river. . .
I used to think "being in the flow" meant ease, grace, synchronistic experiences, and something akin to driving in the city hitting nothing but green lights. This topic is on my mind right now especially because a year ago I traveled to Italy and had the most grace-filled experience of my life to date. I saw Michelangelo's David for free because I "happened" to drop by on International Women's Day and women didn't have to pay admission. I caught all my trains on time, met up with friends I didn't even know where in Italy, and understood when people spoke to me in Italian or German (I was in Austria the week prior). I was connected to everyone and everything. It was magnificent and an experience I treasure.
This year, however has been a different story. Partly I think I've had a more difficult time traveling because Mercury is in retrograde, meaning the mechanical failure my plane is experiencing now is more common. I keep comparing this year with last year, lamenting I'm not "in the flow." That this trip isn't magical and easy and smooth. When life isn't that way I think I'm to blame. That I'm not "aligning my will with the cosmic will." That I'm not thinking the "right" thoughts. That I'm not grateful enough. That I'm not meditating properly. That I've fallen out of divine favor. I say that's baloney.
Here's the thing — everything has still worked out. All of my needs have continued to be met. Yeah, I've experienced a ton of strife — I went to SIX stores to find a replacement battery for my cellphone, the Bern airport temporarily lost my luggage and found it within 10 minutes, etc. — but everything still came together in the end. In October I wrote about seeing through the eyes of love. Part of that process is seeing how I'm always in the flow. I can't get out of the flow because that implies I'm not alive. Life is flow because life is movement. Just because I moved four times last year, I'm currently a gypsy, and life has been extremely challenging, doesn't mean I'm not in the flow! All of these things have worked out in the end for my benefit. Everything has come together. All of the "bad" stuff has led to "good" stuff.
Just because life isn't full of rainbows and kittens doesn't mean it's wrong or needs to change. I am still being guided when I'm crying just as much as when I'm smiling. That's the point of faith and spirituality — acknowledging there's a divine presence at all times. Life won't always be easy, but it's not supposed to be. Just like in a physical river, there will be times the current is moving so fast you won't have to do any work. At others the river will be placid and you'll have to swim a bit. Sometimes you'll hit a rock or get tangled in weeds. Regardless of the circumstances, each situation is temporary, but you're still always being pulled in the river's current.
I dream of a world where we all realize we're in the flow all the time, whether our experience of life is easy or hard. A world where we understand everything works out in the end and sometimes a little patience is required at some intervals more than others. A world where we know everything happens for a reason in our best interest. A world where we're easier on ourselves regarding our challenges because we understand that's what it means to be alive. And to be alive is to be in the flow.
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:
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.