I cry because I love life & I want to live forever.

I cry because I love life & I want to live forever.
Photo Credit: Milada Vigerova

Published by Rebelle Society

“When you have lost hope, you have lost everything. And when you think all is lost, when all is dire and bleak, there is always hope.” ~ Pittacus Lore, I Am Number Four

Pain hit me hard in my stomach and I was suddenly getting wave after wave of feverish attacks, yet I knew these were not the usual fever symptoms.

It was a Saturday morning. I had just finished my 10k run, and was feeling on top of the world. I sat outside in the open air facing the pool; the trees were swaying, the birds were singing and I was just about to start my writing.

The pain got worse and it was like nothing I had felt before. Nausea, stomach upset, pounding heart, cold sweat, trembling body and feeling dizzy. Those were the physical symptoms, and hard as they were, I could handle them.

The mental symptoms were the ones that shattered me. I got a severe miserable feeling, which made me feel helpless, lifeless and surrounded me with nothingness.

This all-sinking feeling is very hard to describe but its like you are in a deep, dark abyss of a well. You can’t get out and you see no possibility of doing so whatsoever.

I just lay on the floor, curled up and felt worthless. The birds that were singing had left; the trees that were swaying now became stationary, life-less objects.

Even the sun, my reliable savior in so many bad days, had decided to hide behind all kinds of nimbus clouds.

This feeling lasted for eons and eons and not the real time of five minutes that it took. I just didn’t know what happened, and felt confused and paralyzed to do anything.

All I could think of was to jump off a cliff or a tall skyscraper building, but luckily the closest places were hundreds of miles away.

Then, whenever I summoned my mind to think, I would get an irritable feeling as if a fly were inside my mind buzzing away in every corner, and there were no windows that I could open to let it out.

My anxiety and thoughts were growing exponentially, and my initial fears of blacking out were now growing to a single thought that I was going to die right now.

The fear compounded with pain, and confusion was taking me to my darkest parts. I was now picturing how my teenage kids would survive without me.

I was angry at the Universe as I still had many things to do, many things to be.

I was also getting angry about why was I going to die now after all the good work I have done for myself, after all the ladders that I have climbed, after the sweet spot I found for myself following so many years of torment.

After all, I was Mr. Positive Psychology, I was espousing how to awaken your aliveness and how to follow your bliss, yet I was on the floor crying and feeling the lowest of lows that I could not wish on anyone.

I was the one who would regularly quote Victor Frankl: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

But here I was, helpless, and I couldn’t lift my head, let alone change my attitude. I felt sorry for myself and wanted a break. What is the Universe throwing at me today? What is the lesson?

I’m tired of playing this game of Snakes & Ladders.

I go up, up and up, and then that snake bites and I fall back down again.

I know, I know, I swear I know that…

… in life I need to go down and then I can go up, that I need to learn my lessons so as to grow.

Today I thought…

… let me climb for a bit longer.

Give me your longest ladder and I’m willing to climb it all.

Show me the snakes so I can cut them down like Genghis Khan.

I know, I know, I swear I know that…

… it’s not fun when you know, or how you cannot appreciate the ladders without the snakes, or that the lessons are in the snakes.

Today I said…
… let me be the judge of all that.
I said…
… I want a ladder only and no more fucking snakes, at least for today.

I just stayed on the floor and cried and prayed hard. I clung to a mantra that I often use: This too shall pass.

It’s not very sophisticated, but it usually works, and slowly a bit of hope started penetrating my mind.

Then, another gift from the Universe, as my teenage daughter rushed towards me and hugged me, out of the blue, not knowing anything about what I had been through.

I hugged her back, and suddenly hope broke through the mind-vaulted gates of my heart like a tidal wave crushing aside all doubts, fears and negative thoughts that had engulfed me before.

My shoulders, so hard and tense, started to soften as I slowly relaxed and felt the gaps in between my anxious and fearful thinking widen.

I got more intentional with my thoughts, put on some meditative music and started breathing in and breathing out. I followed that by chanting my mantra of This too shall pass for some minutes.

I got a hold of myself — my true self. My monkey mind ceased feeding me fear, anxiety and misery.

Finally, my soul spoke to me, now that my mind was still and my heart was open, and whispered: Relax, and This Too Shall Pass.

I locked my bedroom; I curled up in bed, cried for a few minutes and knew that everything would be okay.

I cried not because I was in pain or despair.

I cried because my faith in the Universe was restored.

I cried because I wasn’t afraid anymore.

I cried because I love life and I want to live forever.

The tears, the prayers and the mantra somehow got rid of the fly in my mind, and I thought clearly for the first time during this dark spell.

I was diagnosed with mild hypoglycemia a few years back, but I had regulated my diet and I thought I had reversed it. It suddenly hit me that I was having a severe hypoglycemia attack.

This is when there is not enough sugar in your bloodstream. The first area to be affected is the brain as it doesn’t store any glucose and is totally dependent on the amount of sugar in the bloodstream.

The brain, starved of energy, then starts reacting badly causing those severe symptoms.

As I read more about the symptoms, my confusion eased, and at least now I knew what was happening to me and I immediately felt better.

Sometimes, all we need is a hug of hope, a key to our heart to turn what seemed like certain despair into a moment of soulful relief.

Unfortunately, there is always a small detour of pain that we need to take, but always remember that This Too Shall Pass.

(Published earlier in my blog as “Hug of Hope” but Re-edited)

Gibran led me back to Lebanon

 

 

gibran
Photo Credit: Georgie Pauwels

Published by Elephant Journal

I drift back again to the wonderful summers I spent in Lebanon, and then I am suddenly nudged to leave the empty plane. I remember why I’m here – Gibran Khalil Gibran – and I smile.

The taxi driver complains that the political leaders are robbing the nation. “They’re all in on the game,” he says, adding that they’re cheating the people of their futures and livelihood. I know that many of the four million Lebanese suffer without jobs, without any kind of infrastructure, and that they live in daily fear, while five or six men rule by dividing the nation. I love to listen to taxi drivers because I feel a city’s vibes and secrets through them, as if they are the eyes and ears of that city. I think of what the driver says, and Gibran’s words come to mind:

Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,

and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.

Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,

yet submits in its awakening.

I decided on a whim to travel to Lebanon and visit Gibran’s Museum. I felt spiritually bankrupt, and a visit to Gibran’s museum and my family would be an ideal way to rejuvenate and awaken me.

However, the trip turned out to be not about rekindling my spirituality, as much as unravelling many hidden feelings inside of me. I reconnected with my country and its people in a way I hadn’t before. I empathized with their plight and felt my stomach tighten every time a taxi driver complained and cried about his misery.

I would get riled when I heard about a top bank manager earning as little as a janitor in any average American university, or when I heard that someone born into a specific religion, sect, or village could be ostracized, attacked or miss out on a job opportunity. It was clear that the Machiavellian so-called political barons were getting what they wanted. When they didn’t, they were ruthless in retribution.

But had the Lebanese given up on the fight, as they were too tired or too afraid to lose the few benefits they had received? Had they silently agreed to the terms of their devils, so that they didn’t have to suffer more pain?

Many questions start flashing up in my mind. Why had circumstances always conspired to keep me away from this country for so long? What about Lebanon and its people had led me to adopt other countries? Would I ever return here to live?

Again, Gibran described the duality of my thoughts perfectly:

You have your Lebanon and I have mine. You have your Lebanon with her problems, and I have my Lebanon with her beauty. You have your Lebanon with all her prejudices and struggles, and I have my Lebanon with all her dreams and securities. Your Lebanon is a political knot, a national dilemma, a place of conflict and deception. My Lebanon, is a place of beauty and dreams of enchanting valleys and splendid mountains. Your Lebanon is inhabited by functionaries, officers, politicians, committees, and factions. My Lebanon is for peasants, shepherds, young boys and girls, parents and poets. Your Lebanon is empty and fleeting, whereas My Lebanon will endure forever.

As I entered the museum, I began to understand the real Gibran and imagine how he was as a man. He wasn’t just a writer of beautiful words, or a painter of breathtaking pictures, but a messenger from some higher place who came to serve as a reminder, as an exemplar and a guide to we mere mortals. His message was simple: that we are beautiful souls having a human experience, and we are united in this experience called life. He communicated in a language that addressed our hearts, directly removing the need for our analytical minds.

His works will remain immortal. I reached his tomb and read his epitaph: “I am alive like you, and I now stand beside you. Close your eyes and look around you. You will see me in front of you.” I was overwhelmed, and tears rolled down my cheeks just like a summer thunderstorm that erupts without warning.

I was intoxicated with that “wine of life” Gibran kept referring to, and I felt something stir deep within me. I felt I had someone looking out for me. I felt my heart had expanded, as if I was all-knowing, and I felt absolute peace. Most of all, I felt totally loved. Finally, I felt I belonged to Lebanon.

I walked down to a spot where I saw some cedar trees and just sat in awe of them for a few minutes. I could swear they were talking to me, inviting me to come closer and to observe how simply they live.

I wondered if they were trying to tell me that we cedar trees know where we belong, in this mountain range, in this Lebanon. We go through tough times in winter, when it is cold and we face strong and abrasive winds. We shed our leaves and our seeds and stand naked, and yet we stand tall. We also go through the spring, where we grow our seeds and leaves, and we stand beautiful and tall. However, throughout the year, we stand together, grateful, joyful and accepting what comes our way.

“We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.” ― Kahlil Gibran

The drive back was long, lonely and sad. The good energy had left me, replaced by a creeping self-doubt and despair. Soon these thoughts were like an invisible force with a will of its own, whispering and spreading rumours inside my mind, wiping away all the peace I had found earlier that day.

I had reached a crossroads in my life. I had to make some tough decisions.

Where will I live in five years? Who will I become in the next stage of my life?

I feel like I’m living a double life, caught between the spiritual and material worlds. I find it difficult to fuse both realms into one life and it makes me feel lost, confused and frustrated. This taps directly into my greatest fear – that I will live a mediocre life, far away from my country, my tribe and my true essence, and only realizing on my deathbed that I chose the easy way instead of the more authentic one for me.

Gibran was born with a talent, yet he endured much pain; he had to leave his native country early on his life. His mother, sister and brother all died within a year of each other. However, he found the strength to live alone in New York and sacrificed himself for the love of his work. He would often write or paint for hours, without eating or taking a break. He couldn’t even visit his beloved Lebanon, so that he could produce the masterpieces he did. However, he found his unique way and carved his own niche in the psyche of Lebanon.

The night before I travelled home, I read Gibran and stumbled upon these words:

Say not, ‘I have found the truth,’ but rather, ‘I have found a truth.’ Say not, ‘ I have found the path of the soul.’ Say rather, ‘I have met the soul walking upon my path.’ For the soul walks upon all paths. The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed. The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

His words and my thoughts met for a timeless second and painted one single thought: Life is all about asking questions, and ultimately it’s about asking the right question that is particular to me. Only then can I start living the answers to my life.

3 Steps to Live a Life of Inspiration

 

inspiration
Photo Credit: Matthew Cabret

 

People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing – that’s why we recommend it daily.-Zig Ziglar

In the past few months, I’ve been turned off rather than inspired by the seemingly endless onslaught from the “New Age” and “Self help” teachers that are everywhere. I feel their words of hope have been replaced by hype.

Labels and terms come and go, but little of the content that is being put out there is actually new or groundbreaking. Words like mission have become dharma, goals have become intentions and stories have replaced beliefs. Even the genre name of the industry is not fixed. Is it Self-Help, Self-Development, Self-Motivation, or Self-Reliance?

I have felt let down after getting excited and inspired by the promises that some seminars offered — when I get home, it’s as if I can physically see the energy seeping out of me. It’s the same with books — I turn the last page, and feel myself hitting a new low instead of feeling energized.

At the start of the year, I grew so disillusioned that I couldn’t stand seeing the latest sensation sitting next to Oprah on Super Soul Sunday. So I gave up on the whole New Age scene and took some time out.

I grasped that the spiritual plateau that I seemed to be stuck on was less about the so-called teachers and more about me. I wanted a quick fix solution and to change instantly, I wanted my own satori moment. I had placed the self-help gurus on pedestals, comparing everything that came out of their mouths with Jesus addressing his disciples.

I was intrigued by how differently motivation and inspiration affect our long-term behavior and results.

Motivation means we have an idea and we are going to carry through on that idea. We work hard at it, and we are disciplined Inspiration is exactly the opposite. If motivation is when you get hold of an idea and carry it through to its conclusion, inspiration is the reverse. An idea gets hold of you and carries you where you are intended to go. — Wayne Dyer

For example, I started serious writing almost 18 months ago when I was motivated by a 30-day challenge. I was motivated enough to complete the challenge successfully, which led to a writing habit and, more importantly, it got me to a place where I got that “in spirit” feeling– like a Writer’s High. I set up my own blog and started posting on social media.

But after a while I stopped writing. I was besieged with problems in my business and I couldn’t focus, and I lost my alignment.

Then one day, out of the blue, I received a random email from someone I didn’t even know who said that they enjoyed my articles and posts and was wondering why I had stopped.

I suddenly remembered that I was writing to feel inspired, to share myself with our world, and to feel the divine within me.

I remembered that one of the reasons I wake up every day is to write.

In this process of cycling between enlivenment and disillusionment, I learned that there are 3 steps you need to move through before what you hear or read can then be implemented successfully into your life:

Get Motivated

Motivation is about being pushed to do something. Whether the motivation comes from the voices inside our own heads or from the people in our lives, we are encouraged to achieve a task or a goal. Being motivated is a process that speaks strictly, and directly, to your mind. It moves us from stagnation, procrastination and helps us create habits we need in our lives.

Here we often beat our chests, psych ourselves up, and we take action without engaging our feelings. We tick our tasks and enjoy a brief moment of elation, and when we don’t do the task, we can feel let down or enter the realm of fear. We are on duty here. There is a lot of measuring, and pressure put on us from external forces.

Be Inspired

Inspiration comes from the Latin word Inspirare, which, loosely translated, means “to be in spirit” or “have divine guidance.”

Inspiration is what pulls you to become everything you felt was possible during the last seminar you loved or the book that actually blew your mind. It speaks directly to your heart. You don’t have any hang-ups about why you are doing what you are doing, you just feel absolutely right about doing it.

Inspiration is a life force that enters into you and manifests into creative genius if you allow it to. It’s a deep knowing and you feel it in your bones: it tingles down your spine and it lights you up for days on end. In this step, our heart guides us naturally.

Realign

However, in the face of our day-to day-lives, we often lose our connection to that glimpse of magic, or that tingling feeling, or the deep knowing we had. They can seem to simply fade away.

Whenever you feel like you’re trying to fulfill a quota or expectation, it’s time to realign. Whenever you’re feeling that what you are doing has lost its value, it’s time to realign. Whenever you feel like you are not enjoying your life, it’s time to realign.

Realignment is actually very simple: all it involves is drawing inward and exploring what you really want. It’s remembering the feeling you had when you were inspired. It’s constantly seeking your “why” in life, and re-aligning your actions with that “why.”

Great teachers consistently practice the skill of realignment and are constantly in an inspired flow, so that they can become vessels to serving humanity.

So does self-help, self-motivation, self-development, etc., work? YES.

The teachers, the books, and the amazing weekend experiences can give you a glimpse of what is possible and can motivate you, by talking directly to your mind. They can help start a new habit, challenge our limiting beliefs and sometimes outright inspire us.

However, ultimately it’s all about us and how much are we ready to commit to apply that change we desperately want to see in our lives?

How driven are we to follow that feeling of bliss?

How intensely do we want to live in that feeling of constant inspiration?

Now when I listen to the words of a teacher, and if their words echo my feelings, I know I need to push myself at the start and that eventually it can become the effortless flow I seek and whenever I feel I’ve lost that feeling then I go back and ask why I did it in the first place.

Second Thoughts on Valentine’s Day

Second Thoughts on Valentine's DayWhen you See Love with All your heart you shall find its Echoes in the Universe-Rumi

 

I used to look at Valentine’s Day as a kind of false occasion, something created to sell cards, gifts and countless red roses by Hallmark. I hated the fuss about it, argued with everyone about its authenticity and completely removed it from my calendar to the annoyance of the women I dated.

History, Literature and Mythology have described love to us in many beautiful ways. However, I never understood the effect of love and always viewed it something separate to me like a kind of sickness that afflicts the weak. I picked up a book describing the love communiqué between Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin and couldn’t appreciate the beauty of their words.

I read about Richard Burton’s fiery relationship with Elizabeth Taylor, but I couldn’t understand why they would fight so much and then makeup, then fight and make up again. I was thinking Richard, man up. I read of Anthony dying because he thought Cleopatra was dead, and she then killed herself because he died, and I refused to believe that such a tough general would be brought down by love. After love struck, I got a rude awakening and found out that I wasn’t as tough as I imagined myself to be. Actually I wasn’t much stronger than Bambi. I went through the full motions: the good, the bad and the downright ugly.

I survived and changed the way I looked at many things so the things I looked at changed. I had now experienced love and knew all about love.

Love is much more than pure romantic love, but it’s in romantic love that our hearts are smashed wide open, and we start feeling rather than thinking our way towards life.

Love teaches you many lessons, which include compassion, forgiveness and connection. Love shows you unlimited possibilities on how you can become a greater, bigger person.

 

When I think of love,

I think of joy but also despair,

I think of laughs but also tears,

I think of open minds allowing open hearts,

I think of big open hearts with scars and wounds,

I think of those letters between Henry and Anais,

I think of Richard Burton and Liz Taylor gouging each other’s eyes out,

I think of Scheherazade’s story-telling to charm King Shahryar not to kill her.

I think of Penelope waiting and waiting for Odysseus

I think of Anthony dying for Cleopatra and she for him

I think of Qays (majnoun) going mad for Layla

Oh, what grand stories of love we have,

If you can’t find one,

If you can’t be in one,

Then stop living now.

Go die as a love-less soul,

or even worse go live a soul-less love.

 

Unfortunately we have compartmentalised this feeling of love as if it’s only for that moment with that person, or only meant at a certain period of your life.

In reality, it’s a doorway to your heart and an opportunity to live a wholehearted kind of life. It’s introducing us to the concept that love is for everyone, in every moment and with everyone and everything.

Love opens your heart but doesn’t guarantee you won’t get hurt anymore. On the contrary, when you walk around with an open heart, you might get hurt more. It’s like removing the safety net beneath you. It’s like when anaesthesia wears out, and you feel again. Yes, it hurts but at least you know what’s going on now. Your feelings become true, real and a guide to what your heart truly wants for you.

I now feel gentler, softer and feel my heart expanding from within. I truly understand what all the fuss is about, and I finally get it that love is the universal language. I know I’m bleeding openly for many to look at, and many will find me an easy target to ridicule, put down or even hurt. It may mean a few more tears, a few more wounds or even scars, but I’m ready to put my vulnerabilities on the table.

I feel real, I feel me, and I feel good.

I reread the letters between Henry Miller and Anaïs  Nin and know that it’s only love that can create such magical words. I understood all the turmoil that Richard Burton felt in his relationship with Liz Taylor and see him as one courageous soul as not many can stay alive when a tornado meets a volcano. I get it that no matter how powerful Mark Anthony was; he was also a human being in love. The beauty of love is that it makes us all equal.

I have a renewed respect for Valentine’s Day and now feel the real outpouring of love on this special day from everyone and everything around me. I know it’s not just about that one day, but it’s a symbol of what love could be all about. I look at it as a celebration of all those who are in love, all those who were in love and all those who will fall in love.

I know that this day was also meant to acknowledge all the true heroes of love; those who had their hearts broken yet refuse to close their hearts. Those who love unconditionally not caring to be loved back. Those who get disappointed on Valentine’s day, yet ready to do it all over again and again.

I wish all true lovers a Happy Valentine’s Day as they would rather live a day in love then a lifetime without.