Resist devastating conclusions. Fight defeatism; don’t fight yourself. And make this vow: I will not be taken down.
Faith is proclaiming the undiluted power of your own mind. . . . It doesn’t get me off the hook. It puts me on it. I know I’m responsible for what I believe and my beliefs determine every action I take in this lifetime.
We are more than what’s in front of us. We are what’s inside us.
I will not let you take me down. I will not give up on who I really am. I am born to rise.
Negativity denies your chances by convincing you to deny yourself of chances. Don’t do it. Don’t believe the lie.
You are meant for good. You are meant to thrive. You have love inside you always. Love can always create new life.
FINDING FAITH WHEN YOU’RE FREAKING OUT
The magic is not gone because you hit a bump in the road. Infinite deep love is with you. There is no world apart from love. This essence is all around you, and has always been. The bumps are challenges to your ego, but not to your destiny. There is only one power.
TAMA KIEVES (from A Year Without Fear)
Essence is eternal and absolute. I’m connected to this Love. That means nothing changes, even when everything changes.
TAMA KIEVES (journal entry)
As you travel down the dirt road of this one wild life of yours, I have a bumper sticker for you: TRUST OR BUST. It’s that simple. Yes, and that imperative. I have no idea how you get through the nettles of real life without having a feeling that things are working out for you, even if they do not appear to be cooperating at this second.
Anything else seems like a harrowing acid trip, which just might involve gym in junior high, snakes, rats, and bad Wi-Fi. Believe me, I find it hard enough, even when I know there is a silky genius within every fiber of this life. That said, I’ve had to work at cultivating this big trust. I work at it consistently. But I’m willing to do this work night and day. Because I don’t do well when I’m drowning. And I drown fast when I lack trust, like a truck in a lake.
“But how do I have faith when things don’t work out?” my clients ask. “Where does Spirit go when I’m freaking out?” This is the perennial question. It has haunted mystics, saints, stockbrokers, grocery clerks, and little ones who know there is a fanged slime monster just tweeting away in the closet.
I am not a theologian or guru, especially since my go-to prayer might be as enlightened as “If it be thy will, please let me eat another maple scone and not have to wear Spanx.” But I don’t believe that the Love that steers the stars, spins the planets, and inspires cable TV ever leaves the building. I’m convinced we abandon ourselves. You will no doubt work this big-ticket item out for yourself. Meanwhile, I’ll share an experience with you.
Years ago, I facilitated a workshop at a women’s retreat held at an eco-resort in the breathtaking Riviera Maya, in Mexico. At the time, among other issues in my life, I suffered anxiety around flying. While other airline passengers ate salted peanuts and solved sudoku puzzles, I’d lock on to the faces of the flight attendants to determine when we would be inevitably crashing. The minute they stopped laughing, I prepared for impact. If they laughed a lot, well, then it was obvious they were snorting nitrous oxide and things were worse than I thought. The flight droned on like the drill of a dentist.
I remember the moment I finally arrived at the eco-resort. It was like stepping onto holy ground. I stared at this remote beach of glittering aqua water and untouched white sand. I began to cry. My whole body went limp as currents of tension dissolved. The beauty stung me. It rattled me and stilled me. My travel sweat evaporated. I felt naked and robed at the same time, emptied and filled. And most of all, I felt very, very loved. I felt loved in that moment, loved in the past, and loved for all time—because that’s the nature of real love.
Before arriving, I’d had another week of ragged confidence. I felt weary inside, tired of giving myself constant pep talks just to function in an ordinary day. My business was faltering, like someone trying to sing an opera with a stutter. Daily, I wondered what I was doing wrong. I secretly felt defective, like, clearly, I was not the type of person to be running her own business.
I’d always had this sad, persistent feeling that other people knew how to get through a day without questioning their entire existence. They’d check off perfect to-do lists and live in remodeled kitchens with happy families and talk about soccer practice and dinner parties and all throughout their conversation there would always be the hum of I am normal. I am normal. I am normal. It would just be there, like the whirr of their deluxe French-door refrigerator.
But standing in that hypnotic warm water, I recognized that my inner voice had brought me here—I was, after all, being paid to be here. It was this perfect moment in my life. I felt whole and safe and I remember having this thought come to me: “I am always cared for.” It just suddenly seemed logical. And then it was global and universal, too. I could not be this loved in this moment and forgotten in the next. The nature of this love was all-encompassing. I realized, then, a truth that has empowered my life: Sacred love is consistent.
See, the Universe isn’t like a rotten boyfriend who loses interest in you if, say, you let your hair go gray or gain some extra pounds or chins. Spirit never forgets your birthday or any day in which you exist. The love of the Goddess, God, or Christ is not fickle, narcissistic, passive-aggressive, or dependent on you counting the exact number of mala beads or hairs on a saint’s head. Infinite intelligence isn’t petty.
A Higher Love does not ever suddenly abandon you. You may have abandoned your relationship to your connection because you felt disappointed.
I know I didn’t always recognize this unwavering love in a fluctuating life. If I experienced a loss, a bad meeting, a bad bill, an unwanted situation, or didn’t immediately get what I thought I needed, I decided I wasn’t loved by this all-loving Spirit at all and, in fact, it hated me and now I hated it. But if you have ever grabbed a pack of matches out of a toddler’s mouth, you know that you are not “taking away” the good. You are not abandoning your loved one. You are loving with abandon.
I am that toddler, without the dinosaur-patterned outfit, and I don’t always perceive my own best interests. Let’s face it: I’m the one who longed for and schemed to date a guy who later robbed a bank, but that’s another story. I’ve come to believe that while I’m always loved, my spirit supports the bigger me, the me I am becoming, not so much the me in this moment who maybe wants to swallow a matchstick but calls it cotton candy.
There is a line in the wisdom tradition of A Course in Miracles that says, “God has not changed His Mind about you. You are His beloved child in whom He is well-pleased.” The problem is that we change our mind about God or whatever you call the infinite, kind, spacious undercurrent in your life. The sun still shines. It’s not the end of the story. It’s just that sunlight can’t shine through brick. I’ve met people who have turned harder than bricks. They’ve stopped loving. They’ve stopped dreaming. Maybe they lost something they valued. But now they didn’t lose just the one thing. They lost everything. They lost their sense of trust. They lost their connection to themselves. They stopped showing up. It breaks my heart.
At one of my retreats, I did an exercise with the group I called “Forgiving the Universe or Forgiving God.” I asked everyone to write down things that made them stop believing in a present, loving, intelligent energy in their lives. Together we explored our illnesses, accidents, deaths, bankruptcies, betrayals, and all that had bruised or blighted our innocence. I suggested that we look again at these situations to see if there was a place where we needed to forgive ourselves or let go of any unkind conclusion we had drawn about our own worth or future.
It was amazing to hear the conclusions we had drawn. It was also interesting to see how these chosen conclusions—things like “I’ll never find love again” and “Good things will always be ta
ken away from me”—had caused even more harm than the original loss. Then we looked at everything else we had come to experience because of our heartbreaks—and how we had been strangely gifted. Pain had brought perspective or a meaningful offshoot in our lives, a road we might not have taken any other way, and a new experience of our own strength.
Whatever happened to you, you can still decide to turn your broken heart into a deeper vessel for love and purpose. Or you can numb out—or embitter yourself into a poisonous presence. I urge you to choose more meaningfully. Yes, it takes crazy bravery and a hunger for sanity to work with forgiveness. You have to want to be free and in love with your life, more than you want to be “right.”
Many of us have believed that if there’s a loving Infinite Intelligence, then everything goes our way. It’s a rookie mistake, a misperception of what I call Transformational Love. Transformational Love is an agent of soul that stretches us, grows us, dares us to be the most potent expression of ourselves that we can be, and deeply assists us in silent, extraordinary ways. It’s kind of like the coach who trains you for the big game when, really, you’d rather play small.
I have lost the “love of my life” to another woman, lost other loved ones to death, and suffered numerous heartbreaks in business. Believe me, I’ve got street cred in keeping a broken heart open. But I’m going to share a vanilla example of how what we think we need might not be what we need. I want to be quick and generic, and I want to spare you the details of processing my psyche. You can thank me later.
When I was eight years old, I believed I would drink Hawaiian Punch for the rest of my life. I worshipped that sweet red beverage with all my heart, and would never desire another. I swore my allegiance. But as I grew up, my tastes changed. There was Tang, which even astronauts drank. And then Black Russians in singles bars on the Upper West Side. And today, bottled spring water after yoga. I’m grateful I couldn’t shape my life from that part of me that was certain it knew what I wanted for all time. A limited self will insist on a limited desire. Our unlimited self has boundless versatility and capacity for growth. You get the idea.
Just try on the idea that sacred love is consistent. Think of a time when things worked out for you. The same supportive, astonishing intelligence is with you now. The Presence hasn’t changed. I remind my clients, “You’re on the bus, headed in the right direction. The scenery outside the window changes, but the bus driver doesn’t. Brilliant Love is at the wheel.”
You might lose something you wanted, but you can never lose the source of all good. An infinite grace resides within you. Maybe you lost a job. But you haven’t lost the intelligence, persistence, or other abilities that got you the job in the first place. Or if you’ve lost a loved one, you can never lose the light you’ve already experienced with that individual, or the qualities in you that helped to create the beauty in that relationship.
You have this opportunity in life to discover that you are more than who you think you are. Where have you allowed a disappointment or crisis to become your identity or block your awareness of other possibilities or resources? I’m not saying this is easy. Yet you know that if you break a lamp in your house, you still have electricity. The light is not in any one job or person or situation. It’s in you and in your connection to a Greater Intelligent Love. Ernest Holmes, founder of the Religious Science movement, said this: “Since there is but one Spirit and this Spirit is in me, then everywhere I go, I meet this Spirit.”
“Think of a time when things worked out for you. The same supportive, astonishing intelligence is with you now. The Presence hasn’t changed.”
Sacred love is consistent. It hasn’t dropped the ball. It hasn’t forgotten your name. It hasn’t gotten distracted watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey. What if the Universe is not capable of diminishing its love because love is its nature and only possible expression? Yes, what if, indeed. A brighter what-if, if you ask me, than what if the plane is going down at record speed.
On that same magical trip to Mexico, I decided to get a temporary henna tattoo inked onto my ankle. I’m a mild-mannered Jewish rebel, after all. I picked a Chinese symbol that represented the word always. I wanted to remind myself that the same loving force that had helped me experience this women’s retreat was the same loving force that blessed me always, even in times of bewilderment and strain.
Of course, that tattoo faded from sight, just as my comfort and trust has washed away many times since, maybe even a week later. But always is always. I am always loved, whether or not I see it or feel it. If I have been led or loved once, that same presence is with me now. And it is with you.
TURNING POINTS:
Finding Faith When You’re Freaking Out
I could not be this loved in this moment and forgotten in the next. The nature of this love was all-encompassing. . . . Sacred love is consistent.
A Higher Love does not ever suddenly abandon you. You may have turned away from your connection because you felt disappointed.
I’ve come to believe that while I’m always loved, my spirit supports the bigger me, the me I am becoming, not so much the me in this moment.
Whatever happened to you, you can still decide to turn your broken heart into a deeper vessel for love and purpose.
Think of a time when things worked out for you. The same supportive, astonishing intelligence is with you now. The Presence hasn’t changed.
You’re on the bus, headed in the right direction. The scenery outside the window changes, but the bus driver doesn’t. Brilliant Love is at the wheel.
Where have you allowed a disappointment or crisis to become your identity or block your awareness of other possibilities or resources?
Always is always. I am always loved, whether or not I see it or feel it. If I have been led or loved once, that same presence is with me now. And it is with you.
DARE TO EXPERIENCE HOW LOVED YOU ARE
I like to think of thresholds as times when the veils part and angels and ancestors hover near. You may be slim on worldly resources, but you have unworldly helpers, secret beekeepers and fire starters who light the world.
TAMA KIEVES (journal entry)
A sense of separation from God is the only lack you need correct.
TAMA KIEVES (from A Course in Miracles)
There are two ways to live, said the Nobel Prize–winning physicist Albert Einstein. “You can live as though nothing is a miracle. Or as if everything is a miracle.” You probably know where I stand. And let me tell you, I’ve worked to get here.
I’ve spent more than two decades learning how to listen to my inner voice and follow it past every statistic, convention, or limit into a life that is unthinkable and breathes within me. And I want to open a door for you.
Because no matter where you start, you can develop an elegant bond with your own mysterious powers.
And it’s worth every awkward silence, coarse granule of distrust, and feeling of disconnection.
You don’t have to have a religion or a robe. You might believe in God or you might believe in pixies. You might subscribe to an unseen good or a higher dimension of the neuropathways of mind. I’m not here to tell you what to believe. I am here to tell you to believe in something, even if you wobble. Cultivate an inspired connection. This sacred intelligence will move you through every patch of uncertainty and expand every dimension of your life.
Find your brand of connection. Find your language and your way to a bigger reality. Chase goose bumps, visions, mala beads, or hawk feathers upon the trail. Take a damn chance. Don’t be so smart; it will make you stupid. This life is bigger than your brain. There is so much we don’t understand. Yet there is more we know without having the data beforehand. It’s love or energy. You can’t quantify it. And it changes everything.
I started my spiritual journey being mocking and skeptical, but these days I use my connection, kind of like I depend on Wi-Fi. My relation
ship is as real to me as jury duty, only it’s not obligatory or dull. The more I cultivate a relationship with my own inner voice or intuition, the more I step into a precious, responsive, just a bit larger-than-life life. I no longer care if it’s weird or if it’s gifted. It works. And I’m a fan of anything that works.
For me, the most important thing is that I feel less alone, even when I’m in transition, at the edge, and I don’t know what to do. I sometimes feel as though I’m walking with an unseen friend, a playful, quirky, mojo-powered force that infuses my life with meaning, strength, and tenderness, even on the days when the rain just won’t quit.
One summer I went home to New York and spent some time with my mother, who had just turned eighty. She weighed no more than a graham cracker. She was tired. She didn’t even want to eat at Red Lobster, her favorite restaurant. I couldn’t help but observe her shedding her enthusiasm for life. Her conversation, world, and size seemed to shrink every time I blinked my eyes. I wanted it to stop. I felt as though she was dying in front of me—in slow motion.
It is so hard to watch someone who has been such an archetype in your life, a pillar in the story of you, start to turn into a memory before your very eyes. I experienced a riot of feelings. I had so much crazy compassion for her fear and frailty, a reckless love, even though I had spent much of my life seeking and finding mothering elsewhere. We had a complex relationship. But in these later years, I felt so much tenderness. Chalk it up to therapy, forgiveness, cosmic intervention, raw necessity, and growing up.
On my last day of my visit with her, I feel helpless saying good-bye, knowing I can’t hold back the tide of time. While, logically, I know my brother lives nearby and can help her, it’s still upsetting to know that I will fly thousands of miles away, and a medical emergency could demand a response time of minutes, which I could never meet.
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