A Week of Epiphanies

I am participating in a two-year masters in spiritual psychology program through the University of Santa Monica (USM); we are heading into the final stretch. As has always been true to a greater or lesser degree, I’ve spent the last few months beating myself up regarding how much more I could have/should have done during the last two years. I could be so much further along in my life, in my growth as a person, as a writer, as an actor, as a human being. Then, a week ago, my niece ran a 5K race for her college. For almost all of the 16+ minutes of the race, Ari was toward the back of the pack, but in the last two or three laps, she began to pull ahead, and in the end she streaked past the stunned leader and won by a second – long in race time.

Ari – you are my metaphor.

I had another defining moment solidifying my intention to move to the front of the pack (my own pack – consisting of only me – let everyone else run their own race). I experienced that when I look out at the world, I see only myself. When I see peace and loving, it is because I am living in peace and loving, and when I see judgment and annoyance, it is because I am experiencing judgment and annoyance – against myself.

I am not much for jewelry or other adornments, but I tried on a USM class ring. It was a magical experience – Harry Potter finding his rightful wand. This ring was at home on my finger – my wedding ring finger, but I decided it was an unnecessary expenditure of money and walked away from the table. For the next 10 minutes or so all I saw around me were people ignoring me, people looking at me funny, and I started to feel insecure and drop back into my loner self. Then it hit me, I had ignored myself, I had ignored this ‘uncommon’ desire to own something. I realized I had to purchase the ring and at the next possible time did so. Later that day, I won a raffle for an evening valued at $1,000 dollars.

I honored myself.

Last night I went to bed weary to the Soul; I could barely stand up. It didn’t feel like I was physically exhausted though it was manifesting that way. It was, as I have come to realize, spiritual exhaustion. I woke up remembering a dream – a bad one – I never remember my dreams. My meditation was an exercise in negative thinking – lots of dark thoughts – as a matter of fact, there have been a plethora of negative thoughts since I got off the plane yesterday, and then it hit me. I had, once again, ignored myself and my Self was getting exhausted from me not listening.

The morning had been great – I got on the plane – getting to the gate just as my group was getting on. I got my perfect seat in the back by a window, and later a nice gentleman sat on the aisle. Then the plane started to fill up and at the end, there was an African American family – mom, dad, and two young boys – who were all going to middle seats. In a rush, business men and women rearranged themselves to sit in middle seats so that this family could sit together. My seat mate, another frequent flying business man, moved to the center so that the dad could be on the aisle just one row behind his family. I was touched and started to tear up. I was moved by the kindness of strangers – in Orange County; white folks inconveniencing themselves to be kind to black folks. I was moved and called to write about it right then. It was so present in me, but it was inconvenient. I didn’t have the paper and didn’t want to dive into my backpack for it; I figured I’d remember it and write about it later. At one point during the trip the baby seated right behind me started to scream. She screamed and screamed and when I could no longer block it out, I looked over my seat and made unfriendly eye contact with mother and aunt. I wanted to strangle the kid. The rest of the day was uneventful but never felt quite right, the class I had flown from Orange County to Oakland to attend that night did not have the juice it normally did for me. The evening back at home with sister, brother-in-law, and boyfriend-in-law was empty and exhausting and I needed to go to bed. I woke up still tired and cranky.

I made myself get out of bed; I made breakfast for my brother-in-law and myself, and then sat down to e-mails and other things and the realization that once again, I had not listened to myself. It seemed so simple, and went by so innocuously, I didn’t write when called to write. And so I looked at everything else and realized there was an e-mail that I had to write to a few people I had done a process with at USM last weekend, and I had to write this experience down, and I had to commit to following my intuition and do what it tells me when it tells me or I would be going against myself and not pulling up as I said I wanted to for those last two winning laps. My dreams, or one of them, is to follow my intuition, to follow ‘my truth,’ to listen to myself and obey it – obey myself – not someone else telling me what to do, but me telling myself what I really, truly want. The affirmation I have been using this year is: With loving discipline, I am following and honoring the truth of my heart, embracing my dreams, and living them fully and playfully with enthusiasm and authentic self-expression.

Not sometimes, not even most of the time. It is time to win this race by listening and following all of the time (or at least as all of the time as my humanness will allow).