As Jungian psychologist Marion Woodman said, “Because death is an essential part of life, to be fully alive is to be prepared for it.” In Western society, we largely ignore death–perhaps we are the walking dead for the immediacy of death (as cancer patients, etc contest) makes life all the more vibrant. With death at your door, getting stuck in traffic, checking your email for spam and watching yet another report on a badly-behaved celebrity loses importance. I don’t know who the website will appeal to but I do think it’s an interesting approach to death, that white elephant in the corner.

The various beliefs espoused by our founding fathers—free speech, representative government, and respect for property, including intellectual property or ideas—are not just American, they are global. As a writer, I believe one of our greatest freedoms is the freedom of expression, to say or write what we believe or experience in order to contribute to that greater melting pot loosely termed “reality.” The unquestionable right to express my reality allows me to experience yours. While there may be friction, this is a dynamic process that can potentially lead to an even greater synthesis of ideas.

So today, while I’m tucking into my vegetarian franks, I’m celebrating the freedom to think independently. What about you, what freedom are you celebrating?

It was this: Faith is a celebration of ‘I don’t know.’

I love this quote because most of our lives are an exercise in “I don’t know,” but rarely do we celebrate it. Personally, I’ve regarded “I don’t know” as a direct translation for “I’m stupid,” some kind of public confession that pointed to my lack of know-how in a given area. I’ve used the phrase guiltily, as if covering something up (god forbid we sound ignorant in these info-glutted cyber days) but Levitch’s phrasing is brilliantly optimistic.

Because life, this ever changing, ever evolving process is in a constant state of becoming—there’s no plan or goal it has to reach, life doesn’t know where it’s going until it’s gone there. God may have a plan, but I think he/she/it is more bemused by the process, by not knowing, which is a delicious act of faith. If I look at my own life, some of my best experiences were when I simply entered a situation with no expectations or attachments—and what actually happened was even greater than my imagination. For example, when I went abroad to England to study for a year, I didn’t know I’d end up staying a decade. My whole life changed even though I had no idea it would. Or think of falling in love and all the awkwardness/ambiguity you experience when you don’t know where it’s going. But that’s also part of its magic.

I am adopting Levitch’s philosophy and applying it to my life. I am going to celebrate not knowing and see what shows up…

I loved his answer. He says you can like a painting without having studied art history, but if you took a class, you’d appreciate it even more. Same goes for the universe. When we look at the sky (through the Hubble Telescope or with our bare eyes) in some sense, all we need to know is that it’s really big and it’s been around a really long time. “It’s no different from looking at a sunset and thinking it’s beautiful,” he says.

That’s what I love about gaining personal insight through spirituality (itself a nebulous term and I have no idea how to define it precisely at the moment) because it doesn’t matter who or what’s gone before me, whether it’s all been experienced, done or said before. Because my sense of wonder belongs to me and when I reach the conclusion that it’s beautiful, well, so it is.

Whether it’s workaholism, which society considers a respectable addiction, multitasking, offering dozens of valid reasons for not being available, or trying to fit in more work, family and leisure activities than a 24-hour day permits, busy-ness prevents us from gaining greater intimacy—with others, not to mention ourselves.

Just think about it. Life always comes down to choices. If you are too busy to return a phone call, too busy to take time out with your children, etc and yet feel that in order to be less busy, you have to give something up then your perspective is skewed. Being less busy makes room for something deeper—gaining time to be with others, the only way true relatedness can develop, or gaining time for yourself. One of life’s biggest questions is “Who am I?” but you’ll never get an answer if you’re busy buzzing past yourself.

I’m not one to judge. Being busy can be wonderfully productive and proactive but it can also prevent us from doing things—the really important, small stuff of life— or in the realm of relationships, from having them.

What are you busy with? What takes your time—and is it worth it?

She continues: We rarely embrace fear, preferring instead to sweeten it up, smooth it over, take a pill or distract ourselves. This, too, makes sense. When it comes to suffering, my primary impulse has usually been to get the hell away from it. Like most people, I haven’t been particularly interested in sticking around.

But it’s the next section that has always gotten to me.

“Rather than letting our negativity get the better of us, we could… acknowledge that we feel like a piece of shit and not be squeamish about taking a good look,” she writes, encouraging her readers to examine their shit: smell it, prod it, look at its texture, color and shape; get hands on and Be One with the Shit. Don’t avoid it.

It’s a vivid metaphor and gives me much to think about—whenever I feel like shit; whenever I panic and stumble, whenever I try to avoid the reality of my situation, or get squeamish about my emotions; whenever I try to cover it up or scrape it on the sidewalk behind me.

At the moment, I am doing my best to get over a long-term relationship. The emotions and fears, the pain in facing such huge loss have been difficult to handle. At first, I felt numb and drank a LOT of wine, but now I’m allowing the pain to settle in, trying to sit with those shitty emotions hoping the insight they give me will lead to greater wisdom. Because I’m not running away, it feels at times like I’m in a sewer—all these emotions and disappointments I never dealt with before are now making themselves apparent. But they are making me go deeper and ultimately, heal.

When I’m finished, my life will smell like a field of daisies.

Still, many of us resist the change upheaval creates. Galardi contends that lifequakes are there to teach us because the more unconscious we are, the greater the fallout. Our current global crisis—both economic and in terms of global warming— is a major lifequake signaling change is on its way. The crisis is causing massive rupture to things as they were but life marches forward and as we weather these lifequakes together, we’ll evolve. In so many words, she’s saying embrace the chaos because not only is it natural, it’s inevitable. A good reminder of how to live life day to day!

First, motherhood makes you present because children are very much of the moment, crying one minute only to be amazed by an insect the next. This is a constant reminder that the only thing happening now is NOW. All is temporary, so what better reason to enjoy the moment because immediately, it disappears. See…there, it’s gone!

Second, motherhood demands self-sacrifice—a good 18 years of selfless service in the face of runny noses, homework assignments and constant chauffeuring. Spirituality also requires self-sacrifice—sacrificing the ego and its relentless needs (which are like a toddler’s!) in hopes of serving your greater self and subsequently, the greater good.

Finally, motherhood develops compassion. Mothers recognize their child’s suffering as their own. Spirituality, too, helps us learn to identify with others and see their needs or pains as our own. As we express greater compassion, we recognize how everything is interconnected and gain a broader worldview.

So thank you to all mothers out there, especially my own!

Gurus of the past

I mention this because in looking at spirituality websites, there is page after page devoted to gurus. Specialists in the field, philosophers, and practitioners, they no doubt earned professional status and yet they’ve also cornered the market in spiritual wisdom. Take Deepak Chopra, for instance, whose books I’ve read because they manage to distill spiritual insights into palatable truths. Chopra was a forerunner, so he knows what he’s talking about.

But when reading Chopra’s Book of Secrets, where the author discusses secrets such as “The World Is in You,” I had my own a-ha moment. Chopra mentioned–and I totally agree–that no one should follow a mantra or a guru, because although they both voice certain truths, your spiritual answers lie within you alone. For example, a mantra, if it has been given to you, is someone else’s words and a guru, though wise, can only teach you his slice of reality. In other words, Chopra was encouraging his readers to trust their own wisdom and allow personal experience to guide them.

So I gave the book away. While I know I don’t have all the answers–which is why I continue to read, interested in the evolving dialogue over spirituality–I also know that I am my own guide.

Who’s the guru? You are.