On infinity and abundance

Recently I was discussing the idea of past lives with some of my friends from my Goddess community. They all believed in the same soul having multiple lifetimes, and even that certain souls can incarnate together over and over again – for example, my best friend in this life was my sister in a past life, etc.

I have no problem with this idea, but one thing kept nagging me about it: If the same soul can live multiple lifetimes on earth, doesn’t that take away the opportunity for an Earth-life from somebody else? Like if I’ve had 15 lifetimes, aren’t I taking away 14 body-experiences that other souls might have enjoyed and grown from?

After all, the Earth will only last so long – even if humans manage to get back into right relationship with the planet and continue to survive here indefinitely, someday the Sun will explode and Earth will be no more. So there is a finite, if very large, number of human lifetimes on Earth available.

When I voiced this doubt, a wise friend of mine responded in a way I could not argue with: “But that’s only this Earth, this Sun, this universe! Who’s to say there isn’t intelligent life on other planets, other dimensions?  Why shouldn’t there be universes emerging and dying all the time, where souls could take bodies and experience life?  If Goddess is infinite, you don’t have to worry about all that.”

If Goddess is infinite, you don’t have to worry about all that.  I want to write this on my mirror, do it up in calligraphy and hang it on my fridge.

The more inner work I do, the more I recognize in myself an underlying worldview of scarcity thinking.  I tend to assume that life and love, like material resources, are finite, and when I receive them I must be taking them away from someone else.

I have sunk to some pretty depressing levels with this thinking, at times hearing a narrative in my mind that goes like this: “Sure, God/dess could give me a wonderful, loving relationship – but why?  What would be the point?  So many people in the world lack food, water, housing, human rights.  My job is to help God/dess care for those people, right?  Why should She spend Her energy on me, when I already have so much?”

It’s almost like I assume that God/dess will care less for others if I ask Her to take care of any of my needs or desires beyond survival, stability, and being “happy enough” – that is, somewhere above a “neutral” on the happiness scale.   And since I am in fact stable and more happy than not, I feel guilty for asking for more.

What this really is, of course, is a very old thinking pattern rearing its ugly head.  My brain formed these categories and concepts in childhood, when my parents’ resources and energy were indeed finite and my younger siblings’  needs were always more pressing than mine.  They represent a child’s understanding of the world, a 9-year-old’s effort to make sense of a painful part of her reality.

The question is why, as I’ve grown and become capable of much more complex thought, those categories have hung around – and today my brain is trying to use them to do philosophy and spirituality!

If Goddess is infinite, you don’t have to worry about all that.

There is infinite love and infinite abundance in the universe, my brain.  Please start re-programming yourself around that right now.

Create a new neuron or two, or two hundred, or two thousand.  (How many neurons does it take to learn a new way of thinking?)  [Attempts to do a Vulcan mind-meld on brain.] 

I’m sure I’ll get this stuff in a few more lifetimes… but I don’t want to wait until then to start receiving Her abundance!

2015: A Wondrous (and Scary) Allowing

This year’s WeMoon declares, “2015 is a true wild card; anything can happen and it’s up to us to play it well…  Toward the end of this year, new forms begin to solidify.  Are we ready?  Do we like the shape of our life?  If not, let’s use this malleable, potential-filled wild card energy to change it up.”

I spent $19.95 on the WeMoon datebook after I read that.  It was a worthwhile investment just to have a prophecy like that one lying around my house.

I was not raised to give much credence to astrology, but I am starting to pay more attention lately; and this year’s seemed to speak so plainly to my life that I couldn’t ignore it.

I for one am feeling the giddy transformation space opening up this year.  It’s a sense, both thrilling and frightening, that “now is the time.”  When I created my 2015 “vision board,” an opportunity offered by my Goddess community, my words of the year were “wondrous” and “allowing.”  A Wondrous Allowing?  I also chose an oracle card for guidance, and its phrase was, “Go Now.”  “Whatever you’ve been wanting to do – a vacation, a move, a new job, a relationship – no more excuses.  Just go.”

Wow.

2015 scares me.  So much is happening in the world that I can’t control.  Climate change threatens to raise our sea levels faster than anyone thought, and meanwhile, my beloved adopted state is experiencing extreme drought, which could turn into a “mega-drought” if climate change continues unchecked.

My future here in the Bay Area scares me.  I am settling comfortably into my third year at my job, feeling good, looking forward to a healthy raise next year; just as San Francisco rent prices are skyrocketing, and I’ll be looking to move in with a friend this summer, Goddess is sending me more money.  Seems like a clear sign that She wants me here.  But my rational mind balks at the outrageous rent I’m considering taking on, and questions – does Goddess really want me here, even at that cost?

Should I really be spending such exorbitant amounts to live in San Francisco – a city where, at least in my life, the impossible has regularly become possible, but where even middle-income families are now struggling to make ends meet?  Or wouldn’t there be better uses for my money, such as living more simply (i.e. somewhere else) and donating more to the poor?

(Maybe it’s simply wealth itself, and the power and responsibility that comes with it, that scares me.  I’ve never had to integrate that into my identity before.)

“Go Now” scares me.  Multiple Tarot readings have predicted a relationship in my life soon; a fortune teller three years ago predicted I would marry at 30, which is looking unlikely at this point, but I’d give her credit if I even met the guy before 31!  It scares me to think about having something I have longed for so very long, the lack of which has become a familiar, almost comfortable hole in my life, safe in its predictability.

How will my life be different?  Who will I be when I’m actually satisfied in love?  And what will it mean for my long-term future here?

My rich but confusing spiritual affiliations scare me, too, with the trajectories they seem to be on right now.  This insanity is breaking my Catholic heart.  Friends and colleagues ask me how I can still call myself Catholic; I insist that it’s not the crazies that define Catholicism, but do I really believe myself?  Sure, the Church is the people and all that, but at the end of the day, the Archbishop has a very big microphone, and I… I am forced to find outlets for spiritual leadership and creative expression outside the church of my birth.

I seek Goddess worship for healing, for joy, for binding my soul and body back together.

I seek out the Roman Catholic Women Priests because I will never not be a Catholic, and there is something I need in that tradition, too.  And damned if I am going to let a couple of insane people in positions of power determine whether I should be a part of my own Church.

Meanwhile, as WeMoon says, the stars have opened us up a wild card.  The shape of this year is up to us to create.  Can I simply allow the wonder of this year to unfold, in all its sometimes conflicting currents, trusting that each part is shifting into precisely what it is meant to become?

Might as well go now, while the going’s good.

Chemistry, Intuition, and a Sixth-Grade Bully

For a while now I’ve been working with a book called Calling In “The One” by Katherine Woodward Thomas.  It’s a guide to finding your soul partner, based in part on the Law of Attraction: we attract to ourselves that which we are, and that which we believe we can and should have in life.

My most recent dating adventure was a shocker, but very revealing in this sense.  I went out with someone who ended up flinging in my face a barrage of horribly negative energy… and realized to my dismay that he was echoing some of the same things I tell myself on a daily basis.

The adventure started when a guy who seemed nice, if a bit nerdy/shy/awkward, contacted me through a dating site.  I’ll call him Kyle.  My impressions of him online were later confirmed in person: he was rather shy and reserved, not the body type I usually go for, and socially a bit awkward; but he seemed nice, and nice was what I wanted.

“A decent human being” was the phrase I kept repeating in my head.  “That’s what I want – a decent human being.”  By this I meant a kind soul who was genuinely interested in dating me rather than using me for sex.  Not a high bar to set – but I wasn’t shooting high.  I was ready to go for anyone who would stop short of treating me like an object.

Kyle took me out to dinner twice and paid both times, although I offered to split the bill.  He did indeed seem genuinely interested in dating and relationship – a big improvement over the last dude.  But by the end of the second date I had that all-too-familiar sense that the “spark” was just not there.

The conversation felt like work.  Kyle was clearly a very different personality than me.  He worked in accounts payable in a business office and liked to discuss facts, data, and things he knew; I teach religious studies and like to discuss theology, music, art, abstract philosophies of life and the universe.  He recounted a past vacation in terms of itinerary – which airports he flew to and from and how long he stayed where.  I was left longing for his impressions of the soul of the place and what it had meant to him.  Worse, I detected hints of a victim mentality when he began to discuss a time in college when he’d lost a public speaking contest to someone he didn’t think should have won, clearly still feeling slighted 10 years later.

At the end of the second date, as Kyle walked me to my bus stop, he said, “So, not to jump the gun or anything, but… What do you think?”

Oh, if Cameron could hear this! I thought, remembering the man I liked last fall who said that five dates was way too soon to think about relationship (but not too soon for sex.)

Kyle proceeded to tell me that he liked me and had never met another girl who could discuss so many things intelligently.  Although this was sweet, I felt a little incredulous: was this what he considered impressively intelligent discussion?  You must have not met many smart girls… like, at all… like, ever! was all I could think.

Instinct was already telling me there was no potential here, but my mind was disappointed and reluctant to accept this.  He’s nice, Kathryn! I told myself, frustrated.  Maybe if you just give it another date or two…?

I chose my response carefully: “Kyle, I feel very comfortable around you.”  This was true.  I could sense he was not going to pressure me sexually.  “I’m feeling a friends-level connection right now, and I’m… wondering if there might be more.”  He smiled.  I was definitely not feeling like kissing him, so I gave him a hug, said good night, and got on my bus.

A few days later, exhausted from working late and desperate to go to sleep as quickly as possible, I nonetheless wanted to clarify where I was to Kyle.  I had slept on it, sat with it, and the response was a definite, if disappointing, no.  So I texted him to say that I was not feeling the chemistry I was looking for.  I felt bad for not calling instead, but I was just… so… tired.

The next morning I woke up to the nastiest string of text messages I have ever received.  It went like this, as verbatim as I can remember:

Kathryn, that is pretty low.  And this confirms I should never spend money on the first date.  So, basically, Kathryn, are you going to spend the next 30 years, until you’re 60 and not getting attention any more, waiting for this ‘chemistry’ thing to happen, before you get your head out of your ass – which would be hard for you, considering you believe in imaginary friends – and get a clue: this ‘chemistry’ thing is meaningless and you wasted your life looking for something that doesn’t exist.  Don’t bother telling me not to text you again, I thought your Goddess thing was bullshit even by ‘religion’ standards, which has caused more violence and misogyny than anything else in the world.

I think I counted about six different ways in which this tirade insulted me.  No one had spoken (or written) to me this abusively since a bully in the 6th grade.  But what shocked me most was the source of his anger: the fact that I rejected him because I did not feel chemistry with him.  You can’t argue when someone says they don’t feel chemistry with you!  Right?

I ended up talking with Kyle on the phone twice that day, trying to clarify things – first to apologize and clear myself from the only wrongdoing I felt guilty of, which was texting rather than calling him – and then to tell him how completely unacceptable his language was and how insulted I felt.  He didn’t seem to care about the texting.  He cared about the word “chemistry.”

“You women,” he said, “you’re always looking for chemistry, but-”  He sighed piteously and whined, “what more do you want?  I’m not on drugs, I have a job, I don’t think I’m an ugly guy… I mean, if you say there’s no chemistry, that’s your privilege, Kathryn.  But don’t complain to me that you can’t find a relationship!”

“I don’t recall ever complaining about that,” I said.  A blank silence from the phone.

I tried to explain that no matter what, abusive text messages were not acceptable to me.  But he felt so wronged that in his eyes, my behavior was far worse than his had been.  The rest of the conversation involved a lot of, “What you women need to understand about men is…” and “Kathryn, what you did to me…”   He flung the phrase off his tongue like a scorned lover.  When he told me, “It takes an intelligence level above retarded, to know that when you go on two dates with a man and give him a hug and tell him you feel comfortable around him, that’s leading him on!” – I said I was not going to listen to any more abusive language, and hung up.

He tried to call me back, but I didn’t answer, nor did I read any of the 16 text messages he then sent me.  As I deleted them, the phrase that caught my eye was, “Religious people don’t believe a small lie…”

***

Looking back on it, I feel pity for Kyle in some ways.  Maybe.  A little bit.

I know I received a toxic, pent-up blast of anger that clearly came from other situations, and I just happened to get in the way at the wrong time.  The experience shook me up because I realized just how much hate people can have stored inside them, and you’d never know it until they suddenly let it loose on you.

But the gold nugget of learning for me in this situation was: Always, always, ALWAYS TRUST YOUR INSTINCT.

Ironically, with his angry rants against “chemistry,” Kyle ended up confirming for me just how good my intuition was. I had no idea why I wasn’t feeling the “chemistry” with him.  All I knew was, it wasn’t there.  I was even disappointed because I perceived him as a “nice” guy. Yet somehow, by Goddess’s grace, I sensed that this wasn’t what I was looking for.  And then I found out why.

Most importantly, I also realized that whenever I try to talk myself out of following my instinct, I am giving myself the same vicious messages that Kyle gave me!

“What more do you want, Kathryn?  Do you think you’re better than everyone else?  Why can’t you ever find a guy you like?  You know, the ‘chemistry’ you want is probably never going to come along.  You should just accept somebody already, and stop complaining about not having a relationship!”  (Though I never complained to Kyle about the difficulty of finding someone, I complain about it to myself all the time.)  “You’re going to end up old and alone if you keep holding out for getting what you want. It’s never going to happen.  You’d better just settle for less.”

I hear these voices a lot.  This is not the first time I have known very quickly that a guy was wrong for me, and felt frustrated with my own inability to “just be with someone!” to take away the loneliness or the stigma of being single.

But I have to thank Kyle for showing me just how nasty and dangerous those voices really are.

When I tell myself to ignore my instinct, what I’m really saying is, I don’t deserve to have someone I feel really excited about.  I’m saying there could never be someone really right for me out there, so I’d better squash all those longings and just settle for what’s in front of me.

I now understand the dream I had just before telling Kyle I wasn’t interested: I was holding a small white rabbit in a Tupperware container, and as it wriggled to get away, fighting me and even biting my hand, I pressed down on it tighter to keep it in there.

That little white rabbit was my instinct.  It knew to RUN, and run fast!  Moreover, it had somewhere to go; it knew where it had to get to.  I might even say it was “late for a very important date!”  The White Rabbit was ready to lead me straight down the rabbit hole into Wonderland – but I wouldn’t let it.

I’m grateful to Kyle for teaching me that the harder I try to convince myself to settle, the more I hold myself back from following where that excellent intuition of mine really wants to take me: straight into the arms of The One.