This is how I’ve been feeling lately. I can’t believe I’m still talking about certain issues in my life.

Just when I think I’ve grown in a certain area, I seem to come circling back to it. In fact often it feels like I come back to it in an even worse way then I did the last time. It’s like putting on the weight you lost, plus a little extra.

It’s certainly happened to me with my weight, but there are a number of hot topics for me. For example I can’t believe I’m still talking about the same issues around relationships. I can’t believe that I am still experiencing insecurity and neediness in this regard. Shouldn’t this have stopped in my 20′s? How can it still be such hot topic?   How can a tiny little thing like seeing a picture of an ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend send me spiraling into a frenzy of comparison which leads me to conclude that our relationship didn’t work because I am not as beautiful/interesting /sexy/brilliant as she is. No wonder he broke up with. Who could blame the guy?  I get to feeling so bad about myself that I have to call for help – being talked down from the precipice yet again by my lovely friends. They remind me of  how wonderful I am, administering the kind of emergency care that only girlfriends can give.  A good bottle of wine, a decadent meal, lots of laughter, lots of love and praise. After a while I am able to step back from the precipice. The bottom line though is I can’t believe I’m still talking about this!

There are other places in my life where this happens. Lately its started to make me feel really disheartened. When does it ever end?  Why doesn’t it ever end? Why doesn’t it get better? Why am I back here again?

Last night, after listening to me talk about an issue yet again, a friend asked me “Are you ready to be wrong?” I couldn’t answer immediately.

As I thought about it, it occurred to me that maybe all the things I’m still talking about are those which I haven’t yet been ready to be wrong about. YET.

So many of us hold on to things – whether its feeling bad ourselves or having anger and resentment towards people in our lives because we are so committed to being “right”.  If there is a place where we can’t heal, can’t forgive, can’t forget, can’t move on – its a sure bet that we are clinging  tightly to the way we’ve always seen the situation and we are not yet willing to be open to the possibility that we are wrong about it. Even if its painful we cling on. Even when on some level we KNOW better – know that we need to let something go because its hurting us – we continue to hang on. “Why am I still hanging on to this when I know better?”, I asked my friend.  “Because it doesn’t hurt enough yet” she replied. Ouch.

It hurts enough. In fact it hurts more than enough.

I’m ready and willing to be wrong about a this.  I’m willing to see it differently.

There is a washing machine in the basement of the house I live in. It sits directly beneath a window which is a favorite spot for my landlord’s cats Persephone and Zoe. They jump on to the washer en route to the window ledge which affords them a grand view of the driveway.  They are not little cats and their repeated jumping onto the washer has shifted the sensor mechanism in the lid.  When you use the washer, it stops as soon as it fills with water.  Getting it to continue requires a delicate operation of nudging the lid to the left – while it’s closed – until the sensor engages and the machine starts running.

I was getting ready to go on a trip and ran down to the basement to do a load of laundry. It had been a while, so I’d forgotten what the trick was. Feeling a little silly, I called my landlord who explained to me again that I just needed to nudge the lid to the back left corner.  It sounded simple enough, but after 15 minutes I just couldn’t get the damn thing to turn on. Luckily my neighbor came home then. SHE knows the trick and she demonstrated it for me.  Her version of the trick turned out to be a little more involved.

First she opened the lid – which was dented inwards because of the weight of the cats. She gave it a quick punch which popped it back out.  Then she closed it and pushed down on it several times.  Finally she nudged it to the left, pushed firmly down on it again – and it started right up. I felt relieved, thinking that my landlord had only given me half of the trick. No wonder it hadn’t worked

The next day I went to do another load of laundry. Having watched my neighbor closely, I was confident that I could get it to work. I waited while it filled with water. Then it stopped.  I carefully started to recreate the steps. Open the lid. A quick punch with my fist. The indent in the lid popped right out. Then, close it and push down on it really hard. Ok. Good. Now, slip my fingers into the right front corner of the lid and nudge it to the left. Finally, one last firm push and … NOTHING.

I must have done something wrong I tell myself. So I repeat. Open, punch, close, push, nudge, push. Still nothing. Maybe I got the order wrong I think, so I try again. This time, open, punch, close, nudge, push, push.  No joy.  Nudge, push, open punch, close, push doesn’t work either.  I start to get slightly hysterical as I repeatedly try various combinations. Pretty soon the push becomes violent pounding on the lid.  Finally I try a trick of my own, pound, pound, kick, kick, pound. At this point I am almost crying in disbelief and frustration. My neighbor is not home so I can’t ask her to come rescue me again. After 25 minutes of this, I give the machine one final, vicious kick and declare defeat.

I leave a snippy little note for my landlord expressing my frustration and displeasure at being inconvenienced in this way. Is it too much to expect that the equipment in the house work?  This kind of snippiness is unlike me and later I feel ashamed of myself. When he comes home several hours later he apologizes profusely and promises to fix it. Of course HE is able to turn on the washer with no problem. $*#$(#$&)$*#$*^$* machine!

I have always felt about life the way I feel about that washer – that there is a trick to making it work which I can’t seem to master.

I used to watch people seemingly make their lives work and wonder how come they knew the trick and I didn’t. I was convinced that the trick had been withheld from me because I was somehow unworthy of it. Even when people shared their version of the trick with me, I would repeat the exact same steps with no success. Just like with the washer, I’d try different combinations but never be able to get them to work, and I would end up frustrated and angry, constantly pounding and kicking at life until I was forced to throw my hands up in defeat.  I judged myself very harshly for not being able to master my life and lately had almost given up hope.

A few weeks ago on what some might consider to be a whim, I became a student of the Inner Visions Institute for Spiritual Development which was founded by Iyanla Vanzant and her late daughter.  Iyanla still leads the institute, teaching some of the classes. The program I joined – to quote from their website – “is a two-year course of study which covers the basic principles and practices required in developing a spiritually grounded life and lifestyle.” There is also a third year of study leading to a certification as a spiritual life coach and a fourth year leading to ministerial ordination.

So starting in October, I’ll be heading to Silver Spring, Maryland one weekend a month for classes. Some of the classes I’ll be taking include: Practical Metaphysics; Healthy Mind/Healthy Body; Meditation Practices & Principles; Prayer Practices & Principles; Effective Communication; Fundamentals of Spiritual Life Development; Fundamentals of Relationships and Introduction to A Course in Miracles. Awesome stuff!

The program began with a week long retreat,  known as the Summer Intensive which was held at the Omega Institute in Rhinebeck NY. I’ve always wanted to go to Omega and it was everything I thought it would be and more. A beautiful, peaceful campus, delicious (vegetarian) food and like-minded people from all over the world.  I just love the idea of a community completely committed to learning.

The week was wonderful. I really enjoyed meeting my 40 classmates, who are my new family. There are people from all over the US – Georgia, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Illinois, North Carolina, and Missouri to name a few.  There are even two international students. One from Canada and one from Germany!

Having read all of Iyanla’s books, I am beyond thrilled to be studying with her. She is amazing! Her spirit and presence are BIG and beautiful. At one point she said something that really resonated with me, that great teachers are not those who put stuff in, but who draw stuff out of people. She is indeed a great teacher.

After the retreat, for the first time in my life, I’m OK with not knowing the trick.  I feel clear that it  is has not been withheld from me. Maybe I wasn’t ever supposed to know it. I am now open to the possibility that the journey of life is really about discovering the trick and that its OK to ask for help. It had never occurred to me that I could just ask God to make my life work.  That in fact it was his job to know the trick – not mine.  I’d always been convinced that I SHOULD know it, and that I had to do it all by myself. What blessed relief to admit that I don’t know how. I can finally stop the pounding and kicking. Even more comforting is the realization that while I’d been sure that EVERYONE except me was in the know, this is just not true. I was using this lie to beat up on myself and convince myself that I was unworthy.

My neighbor has lived in our house for 2 years, and it took her a while to learn how to make the washer work. And like me she had to ask for help until she was able to do it on her own.  Pretty soon I’ll learn to make the washer work too – and when the next new tenant moves into the building maybe they’ll turn to me to learn how to make it work.

I am grateful for Inner Visions because Iyanla and her amazing staff have been on the path of learning how to make their own lives work for a long time, and I can learn from them, until I can do it myself. But best of all, is the fact that the real trick lies in a presence bigger than all of us. This is where the where the truth of the making life work resides. Call it God, call it Spirit, call it Universal Energy -call it whatever works for you – but know that it’s something we can all tap into to and which is always available to us!

I consider myself to be a spiritual student/seeker/being.  More importantly I consider myself to be a “conscious” spiritual student, meaning that I now understand it to be the very foundation of WHO I am. I choose to focus energy on nurturing and developing in this area. It’s so clear to me that my ability to be happy, loving, productive and functional correlates directly with the amount of energy I put into my spiritual health. That being said, if you haven’t been living your life with this understanding, when you take it on you’re forced to rethink that whole “WHO AM I?” question.  Take it from me; it can be really be challenging to reconcile whatever notions you used to have about who you are with the new spiritual notions of who you are – particularly if, like me, the whole “Who Am I?” thing has been kicking your butt for most (OK all…) of your lifetime. The spiritual component adds another sometimes perplexing layer to it.

There are so many assumptions placed on the word spirituality and even those of us who consider ourselves to be spiritual carry our own set of misconceptions, judgments and stereotypes about what spirituality looks like. This is what causes many of us to shy away from coming out of the “spiritual-closet” – as Lola put it so beautifully – when we become consciously spiritual because we’re afraid some of our family/friends/colleagues won’t get it and will think that we’ve lost our ever-loving minds.

Early on in my spiritual journey, I remember telling a friend that I’d started taking a basic meditation class at a local Buddhist Center. After 10 minutes of me excitedly telling him about it in great detail, he laughed and said “You have to pay someone to teach you how to sit still and close your eyes? That’s some kinda of BS”. After that I became very careful about who I shared the details of my spiritual life with. I also no longer spend time with that friend because his energy is so out of alignment with my own. This is not a judgment. It is what it is.

What Does a Spiritual Person Look Like?

When I first read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray Love almost a year ago, one of the things I loved the most about it is how it debunks so many of the stereotypes that exist about what it “looks” like to live a spiritual life or be a spiritual person in these times.

Not long after I read the book, I attended a talk by one my favorite spiritual teachers, Marianne Williamson. I’d listened to countless dozens of her recorded talks, but had never seen her speak in person.

I was amazed (and not a little bit envious) when she stepped onto the stage in a FIERCE as in fabulous pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps. With their signature red bottomed soles, these are probably THE sexiest shoes on the planet! Shoenista that I am, I was deeply appreciative of their jaw-dropping fabulosity, but part of me was also really shocked that she would be wearing them. I had to ask myself why I was so surprised. Clearly there was some idea in my head about what kind of shoes a spiritual teacher should wear – and a sizzling hot pair of Christian Louboutin pumps was not it.

Upon further reflection it became apparent to me that I held some deeply embedded beliefs about what a female spiritual teacher ought to look like. I imagined she should wear robes. A habit perhaps. At the very least it seemed reasonable to expect that she be outfitted in a long, shapeless skirt, high-collared blouse and a pair of “sensible” shoes. Not a stylish pencil skirt and sexy pumps.

I was forced to hold my preconceptions up to the light and I realized just how meaningless and illogical they truly were.

It’s very easy, and patently unimaginative to paint an either or picture of, not just spiritual teachers, but spiritual people in general. Many of us labor under the delusion that living a spiritual life necessitates giving up all worldly pleasure. For years I was so terrified of becoming in any way spiritual or religious because I was convinced that I’d also have to become much less fun.  Gone would be my days of wearing sexy shoes or sipping pretty-colored martinis out of sugar-rimmed glasses.

What I’ve learned however is that I’m not required to give up anything at all in order to live a spiritual life. Yes, since I’ve started living a more spiritually conscious life I’ve stopped doing a lot of things I used to enjoy – but that’s because I just don’t enjoy them anymore. In reality I’ve given nothing up. The beautiful irony of truly conscious spiritual life is that a bunch of stuff falls away because you no longer need it – not because someone says you should get rid of it. YOUR spirituality is what YOU want it to be.

I’m not discounting the possibility that someday I may decide that my spiritual practice must include foregoing the purchase of all fabulous shoes, but that day has yet to arrive. So in the meantime I’m coming out of the closet. Yes, I declare to the entire world that I am “SPIRITUAL”. I meditate. I pray. I read spiritual books, spend time in silence and all other kinds of touchy-feely, new agey, woo-woo stuff. However, until further notice I will also continue to buy fierce shoes and fabulous purses, occasionally drink red wine and French martinis with my girlfriends and sit down faithfully at 9pm EST every Monday to watch One Tree Hill. (Yeah, I said it!)

The bottom line is that our spiritual lives are as unique as our fingerprints. To think that we can look at someone and instantly judge their spirituality or lack thereof is not only ludicrous and devolved, it is the least spiritual thing I can imagine!

When I first moved to my new house several months ago, I was unfamiliar with the area. I didn’t have any preferences in terms of the businesses I frequent. I didn’t have a favorite place to get coffee or buy groceries. I made my decisions about where to go based on convenience.

This was true each time I needed to put gas in my car. I’d stop wherever was closest and had the best price.

Several weeks ago I stopped at a tiny gas station which is about 5 minutes from my house.  It’s in the opposite direction of the route I normally take when I go to work, but that day I happened to be near it so I stopped.

The gas station attendant comes over to me. He is a tiny little man, probably in his late sixties.   His is the weathered, wrinkled face of one who has lived a full life. When he comes up to my window, I smile and say good morning. He greets me back politely enough.  “I’ll have a fill up, regular please”, I say to him.  “No”, he replies, shaking his head solemnly.  I am a little taken aback wondering if maybe they’ve run out of gas. Before I can ask what he means, I realize that his face is transforming before my eyes.  He is breaking out in a smile of almost unbelievable brilliance.  His mouth turns upwards, moulding his cheeks into an obviously familiar pattern of creases and folds. As his cheeks reconfigure themselves, his eyes recede a little, yet they seem brighter. I suddenly understand what that often used phrase about twinkling eyes really means. He erupts into the most endearing giggle I’ve heard in a long time and I realize that he is just teasing me.

This is my first meeting with my friend Uri.

He proceeds to fill up my car, and while we wait he chats with me. He asks where I am from. Africa I tell him.  He tells me is from Turkey. There is a instant recognition of a connection there. We are both immigrants. He has a rich accent and he calls me honey.  He tells me all about his “baby”, a burgundy Mercedes which sits in the gas station garage. He has owned the car since it was brand new 23 years ago, and he tells me, that he has done every single bit of work it has ever needed with his own two hands. I  express my admiration for his skills and tell him how beautiful his baby is.  Someday, I say perhaps he can do some work on my car. He asks why my husband can’t do this work, to which I respond that I have no husband. He seems upset by this, how can a lovely girl like me have no husband. He shakes his head mournfully. This is not right. I must find a good husband.

I’m not there for long, it doesn’t take more than a 5 minutes to fill up my little car, but by the time I leave I have fallen in love with him.  I am charmed. When I drive away I feel a warm glow, the kind which comes from making an unexpected yet true connection with another human being. I am smiling hard and I feel happier than I did before I met him. “OK, bye bye honey. You have nice day” he says as I pull away.

I go back to fill up the following week, and our exchange is just as warm. Just as lovely. This time he goes to hand me back my credit card, and as I reach for it, he snatches his hand back. Again his faces melts into that amazing smile and he giggles. He loves to tease. As I prepare to leave he says “OK, bye bye honey, I see you next week. Because you come every week”. Now on days when I need to get gas, I go to Uri. I am willing to go out of my way to do so.

Sometimes I drive by and he is sitting on the bench in front of the gas station. I slow down and wave at him.  He always waves back enthusiastically and even though I can’t see his face I can feel him smiling at me.Â

This morning I went to fill up, and it occurred to me that  these moments,  brief as they may be, are such a gift to me.   Today, before I drove away, he grasped my hand warmly with his and  offered his usual farewall “OK  honey, bye bye, I see you next time. You have nice day”.  In that moment  I  felt truly loved.

As  I see it, Uri is not in the gas pumping business. He is in the business of loving people.   How amazing that I go to him to get gas, yet I leave there having experienced what feels like a truly divine connection. It’s the type of feeling that fills me with hope for humanity. In these moments I see that the only thing that matters is love.

Uri has made me a devoted customer. Even if  his  prices are higher than others, I will still go to him.

So maybe  loving people is the key to business success.