It was inevitable

I suppose you could say I have out grown Blogger. Believe me, I didn't think the day would come. But it has and I must bid farewell as I move my online presence to Wordpress that somehow feels more grown up (I am almost 30 you know). My new Interweb identity is now sheltered at http://www.beckyfarrar.com/. See you there!

"In to me you see" with a healthy dose of vulnerability

Yes, this topic is a cheesy, one…more warm and fuzzy than philosophical. But it gets at the nature of our desires. We crave intimacy with all of our being. In fact, I would argue love is all we really want and intimacy is how we get it.  As Osho says, “Love is the goal, life is the journey.”

Intimacy  by nature requires vulnerability. It has come to my attention recently that I’m not very vulnerable about what my inner experience really is, I’m fine sharing my day, sometimes a mood, but my inner experience of who I am stays completely hidden for the most part. And actually, that’s the part people most want to see. We relate on common ground and shared experience, what happens on the inside is so similar.  I always thought I was intimate with people and am realizing now, the vulnerability piece has been missing. I think that’s actually why I started this blog, to show and share my vulnerability with others, and create intimacy and shared experience with people I don’t even know. (or people I do know like my mom who is the main subscriber) ;) After realizing this about myself I picked up Osho’s “Intimacy: Trusting Oneself and the Other.” Because honestly Osho just gets it, all of it, all the time it seems.

Intimacy as exposing our deepest feelings and vulnerabilities. Where I seem to veer off the intimacy and vulnerability track is when staying grounded in my own inner strength so even if the other person remains closed, no damage has been done to me. I want to allow someone else in through my vulnerability. In the cheesy “in to me you see” way, we allow and invite someone into our inner self. People wonder deep down if their romantic and other relationships are strong enough to bear truth of what really goes on inside our heads…afraid to test the full waters of intimacy. Prefering instead to stay in the shallow waters of superficiality. If a relationship survives truth then it is beautiful, if not at least a falsity was discovered so that both parties can move on. Lately I'm aware of how intimate my friends and I are. I have reached a point where I am allowing my vulnerability to shine through and in the process have allowed people to see into me.As Osho says, once again he nails it, “ That’s the meaning of love, that at least in one person’s presence we can be totally nude.” (literally and figuratively) I also don’t want this to sound limiting and associate intimacy "soul"y with lovers. Many lovers aren’t actually intimate. In Western culture we seem to focus intimacy on our “intimate relationships.” And it confuses me because aren’t all relationships intimate? We rely on one person, unrealistically for so much when we actually have enough intimacy to go around. And yet, I also believe many lovers aren’t actually intimate. Intimacy is separate from being sexually connected to someone. We are stingy, I refer to myself here, with our vulnerability and intimacy. I want people to see the inner me, knowing a part of myself will always be hidden. I have plenty to spare. When I’m hurting I want to allow someone to see that and know if they do see and run, it's their own fear of vulnerability rearing its ugly head.

 The exposure of our innermostness can be scary and we have to trust in this sharing. I don’t want to become someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, I do want to be someone who allows vulnerability to be present. Lonliness melts away when intimacy is shared, because then we can finally feel the love that is waiting on the other side of vulnerability.

Today I'm grateful for Thai iced tea, afternoon snacks, and class.

 

Eat, Pray, Write!

My friend Jesse shared this TED video and I was really struck by its interesting inquiry into (that is a lot of "in" words!) the nature of creativity. In the time of the Greeks creativity was something one was possessed by and "had" as in came from something outside of ourselves. Nowadays we talk about people  "being" a genius, as if they are the "soul" cause of it. She also notes a new way of thinking about the idea of "struggling artist."  Enjoy!

Improv and Physics: Where Uncertainty Collides

I, like many people, have a deep seeded fear of the unknown. And being the sometimes overly self-reflective soul that I am, I felt the need to explore this scariness a bit further. Many theories exist about this natural fear of the unknown alive and well in many of us (wish I knew the proper cool Latin –phobia word to enter here). I find the psychologist theories the most useful here as they attribute the common discomfort to how our happiness as babies was determined by the predictability of our needs being met. As adults we equate the same predictability and security with happiness. Although I certainly (that is a certainty) get bored with predictability. Turns out what’s missing for me, and in a lot of cases, is actually the ability to cope with the inherent uncertainty of life - not make things more certain. Both improv comedy and quantum physics share the necessity of uncertainty, as well as many other gems of wisdom, and offer deep insights into the implications of learning to love the unpredictable nature of life.

I took my first improv class (insert Endgames shout out here), about six months ago, it was on my Life List (#40 to be exact) and per usual wanted to do something that made me slightly uncomfortable. My desire also stemed from the fact I have so few outlets to express myself in a playful way. Improv seemed the perfect antidote to the sometimes seriousness of school and life in general. It is six months since my first class and I’m finally appreciating all the important lessons it had to teach me.
Another great teacher on uncertainty is to be found in the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle (a fitting title) of quantum physics. It counteracts the usual Newtonian way of thinking where physical existence is predictable and certain and shows the impossibility of measuring the position and momentum of a particle simultaneously to get accurate or certain results. Simply stated, the more we know about position the less we can know about the momentum. The act of measuring one variable changes the other. This uncertainty of measurements feeds into the future development of the system and influences all other possible outcomes. This paradoxical way of assessment encourages the idea that anything could be possible in a system with unpredictable results.

Quantum theories point to the idea that knowledge is limited and therefore cannot provide security. Even scientists recognize the beauty of creativity and its position in the unknown. Fritjof Capra, physicist and systems theorist, said, “Uncertainty is at the heart of creativity.” Improv comedy is an art form and creative process defined by spontaneity and the unknown. The principles of what makes good improv describe Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. Because of its naturally self-organizing system, improv allows absolute freedom and possibility. An inclination towards order, coherence, and meaning could be likened to Newtonian physics, or a scripted play. However, anything is possible in improv and that fact makes it fascinating to watch and even more frightening to participate in.
Improv, like quantum mechanics, also relies heavily upon relationships to one another and the “entanglement” of ourselves with the other actors. Major parts of quantum physics show us how things are related (see EPR Paradox and Bell's Theorum for more on this...Wikipedia can say it better than I can in a blog post). These relations are governed by probabilities, not by predictabilities, just like improv. What makes a scene great is that the characters have a relationship we can relate to and connect with. We don't want to do predictive improv, even though some of us may want predictive science. We want to do clever, connected improv showing us the hilarity to be found in our own lives. As comedian/improviser Del Close says, “The truth is funny.”

The challenge for those of us living in uncertainty, which is all of us, is becoming comfortable in the unmanifest, or the superposition (the place where an atom is both in and out of existence) without needing to collapse the wave function. In improv terms, to live in the space of a scene where we have no idea what will happen and stay there confidently. The longer we can hold, or are comfortable in this state then the scene/life can truly unfold before us without our attachments tainting it. We as improvisers seek to balance spontaneity with scientific method, neither one giving us all the answers or showing us how to cope with the uncertainty they both thrive upon. This time in the uncertainty requires certain characteristics of mastery, one of them being trust.

Above all improv taught me the necessity of trusting in the face of uncertainty, because whatever needed to happen, would happen. I remember being at open “workouts” with a group of mostly strangers, and men to make matters worse (I much prefer the company of woman, for reasons I won’t name here), and feeling incredibly insecure. It was awful, I knew I needed to be there, but I wasn’t sure how to deal with the pit in my stomach that showed up each and every time I had to enter a scene. I didn’t trust myself enough to just jump in. At the time I didn’t realize creativity requires self-trust, and also inspires it.

We have to participate in our lives believing and trusting there is some sort of higher purpose to the uncertainty we exist in. In improv we have no choice but to love our mistakes and trust ourselves, the other players, and the overall process. Our ability to cope with not knowing what will happen next leaves us no other option. Trust, we must. For to trust ourselves and the universe in its process requires us to be the natural improvisers, scientists, and philosophers we are.

Certainty of Death

So much change has been happening and I am experiencing deaths of all kinds, not the "petite mou" kind as in orgasm (as in French), or the physical deaths. I am instead mourning the death of so many things in my life that have to go for me to fully step into my next phase of life. I'm doing my best to ride the seas of uncertainty. I find myself wanting to cling to something percieved to be static...a person, a place, a thing. I'm aware all of it's an illusion, but I don't know how else to cope.  I'm scared, and scared of what? Of being out of control, of actually  have to face who I have to be and the voice of love calling me forward into the woman I will be.  What's so scary about the future filled with uncertainty? It's as if I'm leaving college all over again or choosing a major. How do I find trust in the uncertain? There is a certainty I believe...that all of the rocking of my ship is for the better.

All the parts of me that are dying, must die for me to become the woman I know I am. I don't know her, so I don't know how to reach her or talk to her, or act like her. She's in there somewhere intelligent, powerful, and beautiful. I feel her reaching for me and I'm afraid to grasp, for when I do the little girl in me has to die. And with her all the ways I've been in my past that don't serve me. Yes, all the comfortable ways of being that involve my fear of abandonment I didn't know I had, an inability to recieve love, and all the yucky things about myself I am finally seeing.

It has become ap"parent" to me that my parents and I have a relationship that is rapidly changing. I can't be the little girl I have been for the past 29 years. Instead I can only be myself and have to stay grounded in what that means to me. When people disagree with you or don't approve of your choices, or are struggling with their own. It makes it so difficult for me to feel their love. I'm realizing what's important to me is to ask for love when I don't feel it. Being a little girl means depending up on them in an unconscious way, it means not having a space for something outside of what they want for me. I don't want to disappoint them and I also have to stand up and strong in who I am, even if that means disappointing them.

I'm swimming in the seas of uncertainty and what has to die is my desire to control what's happening and what's next. I must trust this change is for the best. So much of my personality that is ambitious and action-oriented has to surrender to the larger uncertainty that is life. I need to be willing to take risks in the name of my desires.

I'm also mourning my future. Someone I cared for for so long and I spent years of my life living in the hope of us being together again. He's not coming back, we aren't going to be together again and I have to mourn all that will never be. It's as if we're breaking up all over again. A piece of me knew this was what would be, but my hope wouldn't let me let him go. Instead I listened to songs about people leaving and coming back for the happily ever after. There will be no ever after and even in uncertainy there's a level of prevailing doubt. I spent years not investing in anyone else because in the back of my mind he and I had it made. No one would compare...and now someone has to, because it won't be him. I'm sad for all I wanted that will never be, with him.

And that's the way it should be. Life would be infinitely less fun if we knew. Indeed the two certain things of life...death and change."When have you ever been made less by dying."-Rumi. In fact this time around, I've been made more by dying.

Today I'm grateful for new neighbors, Devotchka, and my toes in the grass.

Independence to Interdependence

Today is the 4th of July and as Americans we are to celebrate our independence from England. Turns out, I'm actually tired of celebrating independence and wanting to forget about the word. It implies not needing anyone or anything else. Somewhere along the way I decided my worth came from how little I needed other people. Somewhere along the way this becomes a very sad way of logic, even for someone who enjoys time alone. That my friends, or strangers, is madness. There will never be a time in my life I won’t need others, mostly for love, which is something I can give to myself and also must receive from sources outside of myself.

We’ve been told for so long, it is better to give than receive. So many of us feel uncomfortable receiving gifts because we have to give them. We have no one to give to anymore. I get squirmy having meals paid for or even receiving touch sometimes. It’s crazy. I’ve prided myself for so long on being independent and not needing anyone. The difficulty for me in receiving is vulnerability and surrender. So I’m practicing my receptivity to see what gifts come my way when I simply allow myself to be given to. This week, I found a ton of change, some clothes on the sidewalk and I wanted, and even had my dinner paid for twice.

In Buddhism monks must ask for ohms, I never realized how much begging for money was actually a strong way receiving. In America we look down on people who ask or assert their needs. We have become so off balance. Believing showing vulnerability is a weakness. Having needs isn’t a weakness, not asking for them to be met is. I need to be touched, I need to feel loved, I need to know that in the mystery of life there are others whom I can depend upon. I’m getting there, I can get myself to call someone now when I’m sad or even ask someone to hug me when I need a friendly touch. In the end interdependence is what we crave. Imagine what it would be like if celebrated our interdependence with England and every other country, acknowledging the mutual relationship necessary for either of us to exist. Nowhere in nature does an animal or plant claim not to need anyone/anything else. We are each others life bloods (note picture above), and it's time we start acting like it. So, that’s the beauty of interdependence, we actually need each other...not more independence.

Here's a beautiful poem by Rev. Dr. James A. Forbes, Jr. (gulp, that's a long title) from Riverside Church in NYC:
Recieving and Giving
I'm a novice when it comes to receiving.
Giving has become my expertise.
But giving alone without getting
becomes soon a fatal disease

If the intake valve is not opened
There's no way to maintain a supply.
There comes a point in the cycle of life
When the out-going stream runs dry.

Straining out love from a vacuum
Is like drinking from a heart of stone.
Try as we may, at the end of the day,
We're exhausted, frustrated, and alone.

"Better to give than receive," we are taught.
Yet another truth I've learned just by living:
Only the soul with the grace to receive,
Excels in the fine art of giving.

Today I'm grateful for quiet libraries, favorite yoga classes, and massages.

Universing with ERIC

I'm a blogger for the Environmental Research and Innovation Center, here's my latest post:

Universing
by Becky Farrar, Creative-Type, Treehugger, and Yogini, www.beckyfarrar.com

Since the beginning of time humans have wanted to know what place we hold in the great mystery of existence. The way we orient ourselves in the universe, our cosmology, dictates how we relate to ourselves and our planet. Our language seems to defy wisdom in its inability to communicate this key relationship. English reflects a cosmology of separation and unchanging statisticity. Our words create the world we live in and ours have become outdated.
One of my favorite professors (I have many) is Brian Swimme who points out in Cosmic Conversations that recent scientific discoveries of the universe are incompatible with the mentality humans had when English was invented and shaped. We have amazing insights and yet no way to talk about them. Our words lack an unfolding necessary to describe how we were created and continue to evolve as a species. The difficulty gets more...er, difficult when we attempt to talk about the universe. We use the article "the" to describe an object, as something outside of ourselves. It’s not until we see ourselves as the Earth and as the universe that we can truly care about this perceived “other.” We must identify ourselves as a part of the universe, not separate from it, if we are to really have a reason to care for it. It's the difference between gazing at the fuzzy place of stars in the night sky and saying, "oh, there's the Milky Way," and instead realizing it is us gazing at the horizon of ourselves as a vast galaxy.
In English there are eight parts of speech — noun, adverb, adjective, verb, adverb, conjunction, preposition, and interjection, in case you needed a review. Here's the kicker, over half of the word in English are nouns — the largest percentage of any other language. Our language has no space for processing and evolving the way verbs allow us and the way previous cultures and other languages did and do. Many Native American and even Romance languages have a way of unifying the person and action as a way to have of be-ing in the world as opposed to a thinker thinking about objects and things. Without acknowledgement of consistent change we become attached to things/matter/objects. Simply put, our language complicates our way of truly relating to our place in the universe and Earth.
Many Eastern traditions have been comfortable with this orientation of themselves as universe. With this orientation of relationship a subject-object relationship can’t exist. The industrial Western civilization lacks an orientation that supports a relationship to ourselves as more than just humans, and in a lot of cases, consumers and Earth-dwellers. In creating a new cosmology also comes a new way of speaking about the mystery of life. It’s time for a new language — one that reflects our deep connection with all of existence and reminds us of who we truly are as cosmic beings. Clifford Matthews, a professor of chemistry at the University of Illinois said the best way to sum up what we know now about the universe is, “We are all made of stardust.” This conclusion is recent and an incredible discovery to realize we came from the stars. Every molecule in our bodies at one time was a part of the vast expanse we call the cosmos. Science has been used for creating many incredible technologies, but what it has the capability to do is put us in awe of all of life. To be in wonder and amazement is quite an experience we as humans can all appreciate. To reflect upon the world and cosmos we live in and be awed by it. In this moment we are 13.7 billions years in the making, something certainly worth celebrating.
We are each cosmic beings, not just human beings. Knowing what we know now through science we can create a cosmology that reflects this knowledge and can begin a new way of existing as humans that bring us into alignment with not only our planet, but the entire cosmos. I recently heard the authors of The New Universe and the Human Future, Nancy Ellen Abrams and Joel Primack, speak and I think they sum this up quite perfectly with telling us to “Eat locally, act globally, and think cosmically.” There really isn’t any other way to be a part of this beautiful experience of universing.

Rules of dating

I’m a rule follower and proud of it.  When someone gives me rules, I’m Kantian in that I will follow then. Makes me great student, and also slightly  neurotic when it comes to dating. Turns out even for the best rule followers, rules can be exhausting. I'm so tired of following rules, especially the self-imposed ones. I do it all the time. Sometimes I make rules for the day before I even get out of bed (apparently yes, I am that happy-go-lucky). The rules of dating I find to be the most ridiculous. I've read soooooo many books, I figure there must be something I am missing. Why else would there be so many books if there weren't a ton of information needed in order to date successfully. Like any ambitious woman who likes to take control of her life, I have to prepare.

However, all the dating rules, and expectations really just support us not being okay with being in the uncertainty in the beginning of relationships. Myself included. I believe if I can read enough books, get enough advice, then magically it will work out. As if there’s a set formula for success. The books help us somehow cope with the uncertainty -  believing if we have more knowledge we can then “figure out” how to make it work. That’s the funny thing, I know I could be happy with a lot of people... especially maybe if I do everything by the book: be a lady, don’t ask about where things are going, don’t talk about sex, don’t talk about politics, don’t stalk him if he hasn’t called. I get it – have my own life and don’t make it revolve around him. Where in these rules do I get to stand up for myself and demand what I want without breaking the rules? What do I want, you might be thinking? Wouldn’t you like to know…;) (she says with  a coy smile suggested in the book “Why Men Like Bitches”)

Here are the ones I hear in the back of my mind constantly:
1. Don't talk about sex, politics, or past relationships on a first date.
2. Don't be available for last minute dates, expect him to plan ahead and he will.
3. Don't ask if he thinks you're fat...ever.
4. Don't constantly call or text him, pick up the phone...or make him pick it up.
5. Let him be touch, and if he calls don't pick up right away.
6. The list goes on, but I'm already tired of them.

Turns out what I'm actually missing is not to listen to the rules!? I don't want to approach something as fun as meeting someone as a task, although it certainly feels that way sometimes. I like some of the rules, they serve their purpose; however, others make me feel slightly uncomfortable. I have to be available, and yet  not available. Mysterious and yet kind. Times have changed for the better, and I also want to remember all of it is up for negotiation. From here on out I'm playing by my own rules which will mostly just consist of remembering what I deserve and not sharing too much too soon (gulp, difficult for an overcommunicator).


And these books and might help at some point. But believing a book can provide the answers for coping with the uncertainty of dating leaves a lot to be desired. Such as even not having rules.So, maybe he isn't that into me...or maybe I'm not bitchy enough...or too Venusian. Rules have a time and a place, and in my head when I'm trying to get to know someone authentically isn't one of them. Instead of spending time reading books, it seems more important to reflect on myself and the ways I get in my own way...rules being one of them. So, here are the dating rules taylored just for me:
1.Be receptive, allow someone to give to you...maybe even buy  you dinner!?
2. Don't have to prove to anyone, or yourself how good you are at being alone.
3. Be open to whatever lessons come your way from this person, your job is to hear them.

Today I'm grateful for Kabuki Spa, rose petals, and free wifi.

Woman's Best Friend

Today the world feels a little less friendly, without one of my closest friends for the past 15 years – my dog Taz. Losing a pet is hard, anyone who has ever loved a four-legged furry can attest. It almost feels silly to be so upset over someone you don’t even talk to. It’s a death in the family and he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother or even a child. I didn’t know how to express to the woman in line at the grocery store that indeed the cherries this season are delicious, I just didn't feel like being chatty today. Not sure how to explain to the yoga instructor why I kept crying in downward facing dog. (Okay, that last example is silly, but true.)


It’s quite simple, pets make homes more homey. They bring cohesion and play when it’s missing. They are always on your side when times get rough. Taz, aka Taz Boy or Tazzer, went for walks with me when I needed to breathe. When I needed to be reminded life actually wasn’t more significant than smelling the ground and bounding through tall grasses. One quick burying of my face into his neck and the world seemed just as it should be.

In high school I remember telling people I wanted to marry my dog (only if he were in human form of course, as if that statement isn’t weird enough as it is). I think back now and it doesn’t actually sound so crazy. He was a kind, gentle, friendly guy and impossible not to fall in love with. The first week we got him was Father’s Day. So Jen Jen, Taz, and I all crammed into the tiny back seat of the convertible for a drive up to the mountains with now what was the whole family. He leaned into the curves on the highway like an experienced race car driver and every now and then would lean in to kiss me on the chin.

Before he went to obedience school I attempted to take him on a walk on the leash to show him off at the park (apparently I thought a dog was what I needed to attract boys not wear makeup or pad my bra). He zig zagged across the sidewalk sniffing here and there darting in front of me. I started running up a hill near my house and he accidentally tripped me and I fell hard on the gravel. I thought he would run away when I lost hold of the leash, instead he just stood there waiting for me to continue. The same way he would run ahead on hikes in the mountains and then turn back to see if Mom, Dad, Jen Jen, and I were all still there.

After a person dies I feel there are ways they try to communicate with people still in the waking world. I’m not sure how I can still feel Taz around other than when I see a tail wag or find his fur on my clothes. In some sects of Buddhism they believe when a dog is a pet he/she gets reincarnated as a person in the next life. This thought brings me peace and makes me feel I made a difference in Taz’s life…so I will believe it. I’m forever grateful for the time I had with this woman’s best friend – Taz Farrar.

Today I'm grateful for doggie smell, walks, and wagging tails.

Philosopher not scientist

Glad I'm not a scientist. =)

Osama and Obama

So apparently Osama Bin Laden is dead and America is supposed to be celebrating. Why in heaven's name would I celebrate someone's death? It seems more than ever this opens a new chapter for love and hate. I'm choosing love and not to cheer. I'm choosing prayer instead of fear.

I want to love inspite of the hate that seems to surround this circumstance. I want to allow people their way of feeling this "victory" and I also fear my judgements of them. For in judging them I repeat this same cycle that creates such struggle. Nothing left to say besides some great words from MLK. (wow, I'm on a rhyming kick today)

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." -Martin Luther King

"Coming" clean

Yes, the title is meant in every way to be a sexual innuendo. This is also where I insert this blog post was spurred on by a Glee episode "Sexy" that aired last week and I watched on iTunes. I suppose I'm in the midst of a full "blown" (sorry, I can't stop when I start) exploration of sexuality. Not the type where I have sex with a lot of people or engage in strange sexual acts. This exploration is more about the  nature of our minds within our sexuality. As modern humans we seem to have a stunted sexuality based in strange taboos and a fear of desire. I did a presentation for a class last week discussing how we have left any identity of ourselves as sexual beings in the dust. And yet, on a level that's a huge part of who we are. On one hand I'm the loving, powerful woman and on the other a sexual being raging with hormones.

Yet I'm unsure how to embody my sexuality and sensuality in a powerful way. I've always been very sensual...I enjoy good food, bubble baths, and pretty much delighting in the senses in general. The challenge for me seems to be actually getting comfortable with myself as a sexual being, not pretending it doesn't exist, a part of myself needing cultivation as equally as my spirituality or vitality. The Meredith Brooks song "Bitch" line "I'm a sinner, I'm a saint...I'm your hell I'm your dream" always struck me as acknowledging the paradox that is the experienc of being human. I'm a girl next door and I'm also a whore. There I said it, I "came" clean.

Awesomely grateful for banana pancakes, late night phone calls, and $1 movie rentals.  

The Genius Code: How One Step Creates Everything by Tama Kieves

One of my favorite authors, Tama Kieves wrote this for her most recent newsletter, seems rather salient to a Master's student in Philosophy. ;) Couldn't resist sharing, read on fellow geniuses and while you are at it check out her Website http://www.awakeningartistry.com/

The Genius Code: How One Step Creates Everything


You may think that passionate, successful people shot up as an arrow one day-- knowing exactly what they wanted to do. They drew up the perfect business plan on crisp white paper, not a grape jelly stain in sight. Got it done. They're lying on a beach right now--near a bonfire of self-help books.
Except that's not the way brilliance rolls.
If you talk to actual successful, inspired people they tell you, "I had no idea what I was doing." And then they share the same ramshackle story every time. One thing led to another and another. "I fell into it." "I stumbled into it." "It was grace, man." You almost get the image of them flopping around and falling into great big barrels of honey and investment portfolios. You might just think they were all lucky bozos. But there is a technology to every one of these stories that you can use. It's the arc of their magic, or the genius code, if you will. It's this. They took one step in the direction of their hunch or desire. That's it.
In my career, people have thought I must be a marketing genius or opportunity magnet. But I'd say that what passes as "genius," is really me following a sacred whisper inside. My tiniest gestures net results that others spend years and wads of money to make happen. I'm a believer in following that inner voice, the wispiest silver thread, and allowing the Mistress of Tapestry to weave together the Big Picture and the flying carpet.



Right about now, you'd like a concrete example, I suppose. Here's one of mine from the vault. I wanted to be a paid speaker at this one conference that, well let's just say in laymen's terms, hadn't given me the time of day. A friend of mine got invited to go camping with some of the organizers. "I want to come with you on that trip," I thought immediately. It felt like a ray of clarity. Then came the cold feet: It would be a long drive, time away from income producing work, and hours spent with individuals who obviously saw me as chop liver--instead of prime time or prime rib. But I'm glad I followed my initial enthusiasm.



On the trip, I met Ann, one of the organizers and told her how much I wanted to present a workshop at the conference. "I'm sorry Tama, the speakers have already been selected," she said kindly. I "stayed in the conversation" as all good entrepreneurs or inspired freaks do. "I'm happy to speak for free," I volunteered. I really wanted to be there. I had this white hot sense that I belonged there and I followed that crazy, demanding energy. "Well, at this point," she said, "there are no rooms left for workshops, since they're all in use." She went back to eating some baked beans off her paper plate, poor woman, assuming I'd let her chew. But my inspiration, knowing sense, messiah complex or whatever it was, just wouldn't quit. I spoke from the place in my heart that loved the work I do. "Maybe, I could offer an optional workshop during lunch, maybe outside, allowing people who wanted to-- to drop in." A butterfly flitted nearby and Ann's eyes lit up with possibility. "Let me see what I can do," she said.


So get this. She called the next week. A room had opened up. And Ann decided to cover my travel expenses. Then the video team at the conference decided to film my workshop. Later, Ann sent me a check for the workshop as well, even though I hadn't expected it. But better still, some other conference organizers saw me speak at this conference and invited me to speak at their coveted event in San Francisco. At that conference, I met another woman who invited me to lead an all day workshop at her organization in New York City. Someone saw me speak at that New York City event and invited me to speak to a large audience in Seattle. This bright coin is still rolling down the hallway with no end in sight. And this is what I think to myself. What if I didn't listen to that first fleeting desire to go camping? What if I ignored the electric hunch to talk to Ann? I would have missed so much abundance in my life. Those involuntary suggestions are not isolated, random impulses. They are foundational seeds for a garden that will keep growing.


Let me give you another example, this from Ray Bradbury, a famous science fiction writer who also encouraged others to chase the light. One day Bradbury felt inspired to walk on the beach. While strolling, he glimpsed some debris that he creatively imagined as the skeleton of a dinosaur. The image stirred him to write. That night, he got out of bed and wrote a short story. He ended up selling that story to the Saturday Evening Post. The story became a film two years later. John Huston read that story, and called and asked Bradbury to write the screen play for his film Moby Dick. Because of working on Moby Dick, Bradbury wrote an essay which got read by The 1964 World's Fair people, who asked him to take charge of conceptualizing the entire upper floor of the United States Pavilion. Because of that pavilion, the Disney people hired him to help plan a major part of the Epcot Center.



You could say Bradbury just got "blessed" over and over again. I'd say he just did his part. He followed his desires. He worked according to his design. He honored the "messengers" that came to him. He walked on the beach when the impulse struck. He got out of bed and wrote the story. He didn't say "maybe tomorrow." Or "once I get the kids through college, create world peace, get all my emails answered, my ducks in a row, and the laundry done." He didn't ask, "Where's that going to go??He took his next step and found out.


Just like Steve Jobs, the former CEO of Apple Computer, who attributes his mega-success to taking steps that had "no practical application." He shares how he dropped out of college, and took a calligraphy class for fun. "None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts."


His ultimate success advice? Follow what fascinates you even though you can't imagine where it will go. Says Jobs: "You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life."


So, what's your next step? Remember, it might not look like a "career" plan-- because it's a soul plan, a development in your destiny and your identity. You might be led to go into the bead store or book store. Or to take a nap for a week. Or forgive your ex-husband. Or sign up for a workshop in a faraway place. Or hike your dog in the wilderness.


When it comes to "next steps," avoid being literal. Become spontaneous, ablaze, and panoramic. Become guided. Allow yourself to be moved from within. And do take a step. Move the chess piece forward and stay in the game. You'll have a new vantage point and new brain chemistry. You'll have a swelling sense of integrity, no matter what happens.
 It's easy in our culture, to think you need a plan, a map and a guarantee. But that's what keeps you stuck. Free your genius. Stay committed, true, and dogged to the one thing you can do. Your only job is to listen to the next step. Your only job is to sniff the ground, let the wind inform your cells, stay alert to your desires and the undercurrent of a Universal Intelligence. Every step is an answer to prayer. Every step is a devotion. Every step is a pledge---I will serve, I will serve. I will listen. I will honor. I will allow Life to reveal itself to me. I will discover. I will learn. I will upgrade my cells with this experience. I will allow the Mystery to teach me. I will allow the Mystery to infuse my veins with a cocktail of love and amnesia, so that I forget every single limitation I ever thought I had-- and stumble into....and accomplish that which I came here to do. I am willing to take my steps. I am willing to go forward.


Love and blessings,
Tama

Guilty as charged...

Know(ledge)-it-all

To know something or to really know it. Since being in graduate school I feel like a “know-it-all” more like a “knowledge-it –all” actually. After so much reading and studying I have a head full of stuff. And stuff it is. Philosophy has been called the love of wisdom, jnana yoga if you will (if are familiar with terms from Sanskrit), and it’s certainly a labor of love. Sometimes I’m not so sure it’s wisdom at all, I think it’s only a part of it.


In a talk on Friday by one of the founders of my program and former head of CIIS Robert McDermott, he said wisdom was knowledge lifted to love. I love the way he put that it ac”knowledges” that love is limitless and knowledge as limited. In a competition if these two things could compete, I believe wisdom would win.

Robert also went into what he believes are the three parts of wisdom:
1. Metaphysics – what is? What’s real? A source
2. Epistemology – levels of knowledge, way of knowing
3. Ethics – action (need a philosophy for this)

I’ve been operating from knowledge since I began to become a philosopher and seem to have forgotten that my strength actually resides in wisdom. While I may not be entirely a “knowledge-it-all” I might just say I’m wise.;)

Today I'm grateful for Jamie, Matt, Sam, and Adam.

Honoring self vs. our word

I have a habit of doing everything I say I will, exhausting myself and then breaking down and needing to hide for a while. In Landmark I learned how important it is to honor what you say you will do. A lot of times we honor our moods or what we’re feeling, in a fleeting moment over our word. I’m learning the subtle difference between when a mood is controlling my reaction versus when it’s something my body really needs.


In Landmark Education they really stress that honoring your word is who you are. This was a major point of contention for me. Honoring the truth in a moment seems far more important. There’s a sutle difference between canceling plans because you’re not feeling “up to it” or “don’t feel like it.” It’s quite another when who you are at the core of you being needs something else. Yes, I’m certainly cautious with what and where I commit my energy, but I’m also learning that honoring myself far exceeds any words. Sometimes it means forcing myself to disappoint people I don’t want to let down. Call it my Saturn Return, call it exhaustion, maybe it's just my truth.

Today I'm grateful for words, evoking, and giving.

Hopeful Romantic

In our society we hear love and think of romantic love, or eros. Even the so many books and movies and songs (oh the songs, are there any not about romantic love?) over the years support a dramatic idea of “love.”  Day dedicated to love…romantic love. Illusion of what it is, kinda feels like real love in disguise. Disillusioned with romantic love since 7th grade when I fell for someone and then turned out they had a new girlfriend the next week (isn’t that the way of middle school). I wrote an amazing array of teen angst love poems believing love was a phony.

And in someways it kind of is. We fall for people we may not normally even been able to stand sometimes but because they kiss us a certain way or the sex is so great it suddenly comes "love." We put up with things from lovers we wouldn’t put up with from the closest of our friends. For why? It’s that rush of excitement, it's fun. I suppose I've always enjoyed the other "types" of love more....they feel more safe. And in the end, they probably are.


I'm ready to move from "in love" to loving and skip the temporary emotional high (made up of serotonin, dopamine, and other feel good neurochemicals) which isn’t actually true love. Fueled by pheromones and hor“moans” (wordplay that is obvious and also not so obvious) we seek out a mate and superimposing them as a lover as well. I sometimes wish I could skip the first stages of a romantic relationship to experience what “love” would really be like with someone. After our hormones stop doing the work. Will they still be there where love because a consistent choice? I don’t believe true love can begin until “in-love” has run its full course.

The Greeks believe there are five different types of love. I believe in one and only one. Though all the others as pathways/gateways to love.When we experience a love that grows out of choice, that’s emotional without being obsessional we experience a co-creation with the entire universe. It has nothing to do with the physical world and yet this is where we find the way to express it. It’s what we’re born with and the essential fact of life. I think Marianne Williamson says it best in her book Return to Love, “There are no different categories of love….the love that is real lies at the heart of all relationships…doesn’t change with form or circumstance.”
At 28 (almost 29 she shockingly adds) I’m making my peace with love (the sort I now call romantic love). The kind that can be found behind all the other kinds in the sea of things we call love. As there are many paths to God, so also the same for love (as they seem to be the same thing anyway).;)

I’m a romantic, not because I believe in soulmates or “the one”, instead because I believe in love and romantic love as a gateway into it.

Today I'm grateful for Valentine's Day, Craigslist, and bubble baths.

I forgot...

I had a blog. This is the longest I have gone without writing and I feel kinda guilty. Even though I don't have a lot of followers (thanks Mom and sometimes Hayley), it feels strange not to be expressing myself via Interweb. I moved out of my tiny studio in Hayes Valley on the edge of Civic Center into a beautiful, sunny place in the Panhandle near Golden Gate Park. I have been nesting like mad and hardly wanting to leave my new place. So I'm here simply to say with two jobs, full-time grad student status, and having a life my blog is suffering...and I know this.

Today I'm grateful for coffee shops, Goodwill, and cell phones.

Give and Take

I did something I've never done before this week, I went to the ATM to give money to a stranger. Her leg was bleeding and wrapped in bandages and she said I was the first person who stopped to see if she needed help. I choked back tears and heard her story of trying to get out of the state away from her abusive husband. She asked if I would stand on the sidewalk with her and advocate for domestic violence victims. When I reached into my purse to get my cell phone, she told me she didn’t want my money and instead to just listen or if she could work for me. In California women can only stay in shelters for a short period of time and she needed to leave.

She didn't ask me for money and so I felt deeply compelled to give. We began walking and I listened to her talk about her 13-year old son and how she had been married for almost two years before the abuse began a long time ago. It had only recently gotten worse. I asked how much the ticket was she wanted to buy. We continued walking and I stopped abruptly at an ATM and gave her the amount it would cost for she and her son to get to Nevada.

I handed her the money and she started crying, then I cried and she hugged me and I walked away with my Ray Bans covering my tears. Before heading home to get her son she asked for my email so that she could contact me when she arrived. I wrote it down and said a silent prayer she would remember. Her pain felt so real that I felt bruised. If she was lying I realized it didn't even matter. We answer our truth when it calls and I can't be responsible for hers, only what feels right to me.

Giving and taking (also more commonly described by receiving) is common sense in a community. And so is asking for help. I gave and took from that experience and from her. I felt good knowing I could make a difference and again was left with the guilt of privilege and wondering how I have what I have. This weekend I felt so blessed to have wonderful friends to help me move, they gave to me and now fortunately I was able to give to this woman. Maybe it isn't that simple.

What did I do to deserve this life full of some magic and perfection? Why do I have all my needs met and she can hardly survive? Where do I even find answers to such questions? The mystery of life begins with these questions, and in some cases ends with them as well. Some spiritual traditions speak of karma from past lives forming our current experience. Some believe it's without a belief in God, or an illness of the mind. I don't think there's an answer. We hear of the experiments where people start off with the same large sum of money and end up with nothing again. I think it's an illness of the heart - of forgetting our worth. I want to believe despite circumstances everyone can heal and grow and become who they were meant to be.

Some people ask for help, and sometimes we ask them what we can give - the beautiful blend of give and take.

His+Her=Hir

One of my professors using the pronoun "hir" instead of  differentiating between "his" or "her." Another example of the fact we don't have language that describes our world accurately. Only two genders, when it has become increasingly obvious more than two exist and are a reality of our physical world. I would actually prefer to use this made-up word than the improper usage of "their" in this sort of context. Example below:
"The student brought their notebook to class." (insert cringe here for non-agreement of subjects)
"The student brought hir notebook to class."

I think I also like this rendition of old pronouns because it does end up sounding like "her" anyway and implying feminity. Should you use "her", "his", "their", or "hir", it matters more if that you are even aware enough of the fact there are options. Now if people would stop messing up "their" and "there" we might actually get somewhere...(says the snobby grammarian)

Today I'm grateful for new classes, keys to my new apartment, and productivity.