Tag Archives: philosophy
I’m Through Apologizing
All my life, I never thought I was “enough”–not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, tough enough, cool enough, whatever-the-latest-something-is enough. And because of that, I always found myself apologizing. I think a lot of us do that–apologize incessantly. I know I did it (and still do) because, God forbid, I disobey the rules or either accidentally or on purpose, (gasp) break the rules!
As some of you know, I wrote a memoir called “Dance of the Electric Hummingbird,” and in it, I bared my soul. It was perhaps one of the toughest things I’ve ever done–reveal to complete strangers personal details about my life, what I think, how I feel, and what I’ve done. Whenever one publishes something for the public, one opens one’s self to ridicule and judgment, and I don’t know about you, but the last thing I needed was someone else judging me when I already did a fine job of it on myself.
Before my book came out, my publisher had a hard time classifying which category it fell into. Was it best presented as New Age? Self Help? Spirituality? Music? Memoir?
All of these. Because, you see, I do not fit into any one category. (And neither do you.) I was under the impression that most spiritual books were written by authors who were so clean and nice that sugar could melt in their mouths. Well, that’s not me. I cuss sometimes. I have tattoos. I have my share of bad days where no matter what I do, nothing seems to go right.
In other words, I am human.
I thought that I should have to be like those other authors who were perfect all the time—and that I should never, ever have a bad day, and if I did, I surely would never let the public know about it. I wrote a book and got it published; that was a big accomplishment and people looked up to me. I had to set a good example; I had to put forth a positive image all the time and always do the right thing. Bullshit! That takes too much energy; and the older I get, the more I value having energy because tomorrow something mental or physical might hurt too much to warrant my even getting out of bed!
I have since learned to accept and embrace who I am—imperfectly perfect, or perfectly imperfect, however you want to look at it. And I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to be pure and saintly and positive 100% of the time to be a spiritual person, or to find self-realization or self-fulfillment or to make a positive contribution to the world. You are already perfect just the way you are. Uh huh, I said it.
Since I’ve already shared so much about myself, I figured why not share some more? Because by sharing parts of ourselves with the world, it lets others know that they are not alone and that, right there, is empowering. And since it’s my goal to help others discover their personal paths to self-realization, all I can do is point the way to “The Way,” then it’s up to them to find their own truths.
There’s a Zen saying that goes:
The way to enlightenment is like a finger pointing at the moon. If you focus on the finger, you won’t see the moon.
So here goes. I’m done apologizing:
- for going out in public wearing sandals without painting my toenails (“Suck it, Trebek!”)
- for wearing jeans and T-shirts and sometimes too-short shorts
- for having tattoos and piercings
- for no longer subscribing to all the tenets of the religion in which I was raised and for picking and choosing bits and pieces of other religions and philosophies to put together my personal spiritual belief system.
- for saying “bad” words and laughing at dirty jokes
- for not buying into your political stance or religion—and by the way—I don’t judge you; you’re entitled to your own opinion, just as I am
- for believing that dreams really do come true
- for being naive and unworldly sometimes
- for being open-minded to a fault sometimes
- for my shoes not matching my purse (or sometimes not even matching each other! Yeah, it’s happened.)
- for practicing (and loving) the “unladylike” martial art of taekwondo
- for liking kim-chee, merlot, good tequila, strong coffee, any sort of potatoes and milk chocolate (white chocolate is NOT chocolate in my opinion!)
- for believing that gays and lesbians deserve the same rights as everyone else
- for believing that women should be allowed to be priests and that priests should be allowed to marry and have families
- for not wanting to eat or drink from anything made of plastic
- for believing that there are good people and not-so-good people of every race, color and creed
- for believing in magic and miracles
- for playing my music too loud
- for having a special place in my heart for bikers (the kind who ride motorcycles, have tattoos, and wear leather and do-rags)
- for not always wearing the right clothes for the right occasion, i.e. overdressed for a casual event or underdressed for a special event—clothes just aren’t that important to me
- for loving, loving, LOVING heavy metal music (the raunchier the better) and rock, hip hop, blues, and classical
- for NOT loving the music of Celine Dion
- for dancing or singing when I feel like it—so what if I’m no good? Don’t watch!
- for focusing all my love on my family and friends—they come first
- for your misunderstanding of what I said
- for not needing a gazillion dollars to make me happy
- for loving the smell, the feel, the sounds, and the sight of everything having to do with horses
- for celebrating Christmas, Halloween, Easter and the Fourth of July
- for abhorring sitcoms wherein is piped that insipid canned laughter. Ugh!
- for believing in God, angels, saints, spirits and ghosts, and my Higher Self
- for not presenting home-cooked meals in an artful manner—as long as it tastes good, who cares if it’s on a pretty plate? Serve yourself out of the saucepan. There’s less cleanup that way
- or if you stay overnight at my house, your towels and bedding may not be color-coordinated, but I’ll give you the best I’ve got and they will be fresh and clean and super-comfortable!
- for being nostalgic and romantic
- for being able to relate to Eastern philosophies so much more than to most Western philosophies
- for my house being messy if you drop over unexpectedly—I have a little plaque in my kitchen that reads “I cleaned my house yesterday. Wish you could have seen it!”
- for spending too much time writing
- for loving philosophy and deep conversations
- for needing to feel appreciated
- for spending countless hours just watching my babies sleep when they were newborns
- for loving babies of any kind—human, canine, feline, equine, you name it
- for thinking too much—mulling things over and over and over in my mind until I make myself nauseous (and believe me, that can take a looooooong time)
- for being overly sensitive
- for believing that people are innately good
- for getting older
- for wearing clothes that are “too young” for me. I love distressed jeans.
- for enjoying reading about sex, writing about sex, talking about sex and engaging in sex
- for hugging you full on, and with my entire being. It’s not sexual—I really do love you that much.
- for telling you how good-looking, smart, or wonderful you are. It’s not a ploy; I sincerely mean it.
- for believing that no one has the right to hurt another person or animal
- for believing in the power of prayer
- for using meditation and other methods of tapping into my mind and spirit
- for believing that elderly people deserve respect
- for knowing that “you” do not end with the death of your physical body
- for being patriotic and loving my country
- for believing that God is both male and female at the same time
- for mourning my dear parents who have passed on
- for teaching my kids to have manners
- for having respect for those in my life, not just because they’re in a position of authority or because they’re famous, but because in my opinion, they earned it
- for believing that every woman has the right to choose what happens to her body
- for being needy for no apparent reason
- for being kinky for no apparent reason
- for being silly for no apparent reason
- for needing to hear you say that you love me
- for spending too much money on my kids and grandkids and spoiling them rotten. Isn’t that what kids and grandkids are for?
- for drinking too much tequila sometimes (although not for a long time)
- for loving you first, before I even know you, and giving you the benefit of the doubt until I am convinced that you don’t deserve it (and it takes a LOT for me to determine that you don’t deserve it)
- for loving you too much. I don’t believe there is such a thing as loving too much
- for trying to please/feed/clothe/house/protect you too much
- for not wanting to be in the company of those who put others down
- for not being phony. Yeah, I’d like breast implants, a butt lift, botox and a tummy tuck, but I’ll deal with what I’ve got. (However, I might be able to be persuaded on a few of those things…)
- for not laughing at your racial jokes
- for wearing my heart on my sleeve
- for not holding down a regular 9 to 5 job—I’m a writer
- for being a stay-at-home mom when my kids were growing up
- for being friends with people you don’t approve of
- for asking too many questions
- for buying too many books (There’s no such thing as “too many” books.)
- for anything I’ve said here that may seem contradictory
- for anything I’ve said here that may offend you
Now—your turn. It’s a new year. What are you through apologizing for?
Recommended Reading
New Age:
Ask and It Is Given: Learning to Manifest Your Desires by Esther and Jerry Hicks (The Teachings of Abraham)
Conversations with God: An Uncommon Dialogue, books 1, 2, and 3 by Neale Donald Walsch
Diary of a Psychic: Shattering The Myths by Sonia Choquette, Ph.D.
I Had It All the Time: When Self-Improvement Gives Way to Ecstasy by Alan Cohen
Jesus And The Lost Goddess: The Lost Teachings of the Original Christians by Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy
Many Lives, Many Masters: The true story of a prominent psychiatrist, his young patient, and the past-life therapy that changed both their lives by Brian L. Weiss, M.D.
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity by Julia Cameron
The Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield
The Power of Intention: Learning to Co-create Your World Your Way by Dr. Wayne Dyer
The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment by Eckhart Tolle
The Psychic Pathway: A Workbook for Reawakening the Voice of Your Soul by Sonia Choquette, Ph.D.
Way of the Peaceful Warrior: A Book That Changes Lives by Dan Millman
Science and Spirituality:
Body Mind Spirit: Exploring the Parapsychology of Spirituality, edited by Charles T. Tart
The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth, by M. Scott Peck, M.D.
The Divine Matrix: Bridging Time, Space, Miracles, and Belief, by Gregg Braden
General Philosophy:
Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda
Chop Wood, Carry Water: A Guide to Finding Spiritual Fulfillment in Everyday Life by Rick Fields, with Peggy Taylor, Rex Weyler, and Rick Ingrasci
In Search of the Miraculous by P.D. Ouspensky
Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior by Chogyam Trungpa
The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Music and Spirituality:
Drumming at the Edge of Magic: A Journey Into the Spirit of Percussion by Mickey Hart with Jay Stevens
Spirit into Sound: The Magic of Music by Mickey Hart and Fredric Lieberman
The Mysticism of Sound; Music; The Power of the Word; Cosmic Language: The Sufi Message of Hazrat Inayat Khan by Sufi Hazrat Inayat Khan
Native American Philosophy/Shamanism:
Black Elk Speaks: Being the Life Story of a Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux by John G. Neihardt
God is Red by Vine Deloria, Jr.
Seven Arrows by Hyemeyohsts Storm
Touch the Earth: A Self-Portrait of Indian Existence compiled by T.C. McLuhan
Shamanism:
Any of the books by Carlos Castaneda
Mending the Past and Healing the Future with Soul Retrieval by Alberto Villoldo, Ph.D.
The Four Insights: Wisdom, Power, and Grace of the Earthkeepers by Alberto Villoldo, Ph.D.
Eastern Philosophy:
Buddhism:
An Introduction to Zen Buddhism by D. T. Suzuki
The Gospel According to Zen: Beyond the Death of God edited by Robert Sohl and Audrey Carr
Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel
Zen Meditation in Plain English by John Daishin Buksbazen
Taoism:
365 Tao Daily Meditations by Deng Ming-Dao
Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu
The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff
Martial Arts Philosophy:
Abundant Peace: The Biography of Morihei Ueshiba, Founder of Aikido by John Stevens
Seven Steps to Inner Power: A Martial Arts Master Reveals Her Secrets for Dynamic Living by Grandmaster Tae Yun Kim
The Magic of Conflict: Turning A Life of Work into a Work of Art by Thomas F. Crum with foreword and photographs by John Denver
Zen in the Martial Arts by Joe Hyams
A Roger Ebert Story and an Excerpt from “Dance of the Electric Hummingbird”
March 4, 2010
One of my readers sent this to me recently and I wanted to share it with you, along with my reply to her. (She has given me her approval.) In her email, (I’m paraphrasing here) she told me that film critic Roger Ebert had recently appeared on the Oprah Show. For more than eight years, he’d been battling thyroid cancer that eventually spread to his salivary gland and jaw. Because of this, most of his lower jaw had been removed and it left him unable to speak or eat. He uses a computer into which he types what he wants to say and it replays the words.
Ebert wrote in his journal that the purpose of our lives is to make the lives of others a little happier and to make ourselves happier. Anything contrary to that is a travesty because unhappiness is the breeding ground for crime. He said that he didn’t always know this, but was glad that he has lived long enough to realize it.
When asked about his appearance, he replied that nobody is perfect and that we have to accept who we are and keep on living.
My reply to her email:
I hope most of us don’t have to go through what he did to realize that what he says is true. Unfortunately all we have is our words to help us convince others of the things we know will improve their lives. Here’s an excerpt for you from my book. The setting takes place in a coffee shop, where I’m talking to a famous poet. In this scene she has just finished reading some of my work.
Following is an excerpt from DANCE OF THE ELECTRIC HUMMINGBIRD. It’s from Chapter 28 — Beyond the Holes of Words:
(9-25-11: This chapter has been edited out of the manuscript. Sorry for any inconvenience!)
“What exactly are you trying to say here?” She points to a line in my poem with her pen.
I fumble a bit, unsure of how to respond because I’ve sugarcoated my meaning. I take a sip of my mocha latte to stall. It tastes even better than before. I take another. Then I look around the small room—the walls are painted light pink and there are dark, wooden shelves displaying coffee products for sale. Three other customers sit in overstuffed chairs arranged facing one another near the windows. The entire atmosphere is one of warmth, relaxation, and trust. It seems to say, “Go ahead…”
I’m trying not to focus on the fact that Victoria is the perfect image of a teacher, which she is, after all, because in my mind, teachers had always been harbingers of doom. Of course, this is my own silly notion left over from my Catholic school days—Victoria is not dressed in a black and white nun’s habit. She’s wearing a floral print button-down blouse, impeccably ironed, and white pants, her grey hair cut short and neatly styled. Why do I do this to myself?
“Do you mean ‘vagina’?” Her soft-spoken manner seems contradictory to such frankness.
“Yes.” I’m quite caught off-guard.
“Then say ‘vagina.’” She crosses out what I’ve written and scribbles the word “vagina” with her red pen.
I take another sip of my latte, swallowing hard in an attempt to disguise the little smile creeping over my face.
She and I had become friends when I’d signed up for the Writing through Loss grief support group after my parents died. Over the years, I had attended several of her writing workshops and poetry readings, hoping to absorb as much knowledge from her as I could. And now she was the person in charge of the class I’d enrolled in.
During one of the sessions, as the group of mourners sat writing in our chairs, she quietly approached me.
“I really love your writing. I was wondering if you’d be interested in working with me on your poetry.”
“I’d be honored!” I was a little embarrassed because I wasn’t used to compliments like this. But I sorely needed help and direction with my writing, and professional advice. I had so much inside of me that I wanted to say and I wanted it to come out as art so others could relate, but sometimes I didn’t know quite how to say it. I didn’t want to offend anyone.
And now, sitting across from her, I realize that she’s not judging me. She’s treating me with respect for what it is I need to say as an artist. What ridiculous notion had convinced me that she would immediately reject me based on one word? I feel my body relax and I gain even more respect for her—this tiny woman with a big soul.
But I learned from an early age to care what others thought of me, which stemmed from my worrying about what God thought of me. Growing up I learned how not to bring attention to myself. I was always on the lookout for what others expected of me and strove to live up to their expectations. And the things the girls at school said about me hurt me deeply, so I knew that words had a lot of power. Prepubescent girls can be horribly cruel, but I never fought back; I couldn’t conceive of hurting anyone else on purpose, even if they’d hurt me first. It went completely against my nature.
So the words thing was obviously deeply ingrained in me. I was concerned that people would form the wrong opinion of me for that reason.
Thoreau said, “Say what you have to say, not what you ought.” And here is the poet telling me pretty much the same thing.
Art is supposed to incite raw emotion.
So when it comes to writing this book, a much bigger project than writing one poem, trying to explain all this is very much like trying to explain Zen: no matter which words I choose, the only way another can truly know how it feels is by personal experience. Nevertheless, my soul screams that I have to try. I have to tell this story. It’s a quagmire I just know I can conquer if not with words, then through some sort of osmosis that whoever is meant to hear and understand, will. And yet, my ferryboat is built of words.
D. T. Suzuki writes:
Cannot Zen be so explained that a master can lead all his pupils to enlightenment through explanation? Is satori something that is not at all capable of intellectual analysis? Yes, it is an experience which no amount of explanation or argument can make communicable to others unless the latter themselves had it previously … For a satori turned into a concept ceases to be itself … Therefore, all that we can do in Zen in the way of instruction is to indicate, or to suggest, or to show the way so that one’s attention may be directed towards the goal. As to attaining the goal and taking hold of the thing itself, this must be done by one’s own hands, for nobody else can do it for one…
I can’t wrap its message into a neat little package others can take with them like a piece of chewing gum that releases some great philosophical truth when you bite into it. If I could, believe me, I would.
END OF EXCERPT.