Dear Universe,

In Sera Beak’s The Red Book she talks about building’s one spirituality not so much like a buffet, where you pick and choose only the things you like and leave the stuff you don’t, but more like crafting a charm bracelet that supports your character, challenges you and gives you strength against life’s inevitable obstacles. I quite like this idea.

So I’m copying it. Both literally and figuratively (and completely shamelessly.)

Trouble is, it’s harder to come across charms of things than I’d planned just perusing Etsy and Ebay. So I’m releasing a small list of the totems/images I want to put on this charm bracelet in hopes that in giving these to You, I’ll come across these icons with greater ease, either at reduced prices at a bead or craft store, simply by finding them, or as a gift. Any or all are welcome and appreciated.

For example, I’d been thinking about my Spirit Guide for a while and realized that I hadn’t called my bear (the one I discovered when I was lead through meditation at 12 years old) into my company in a while. I went to my weekly meditation and the minister brought a bag of charms to the group that she had acquired in Cherokee, NC while on retreat. She told us to select one and we’d research the symbolic meanings of this animal and naturally, I pulled the bear. Time to reset and get back to my roots, it seems.

So here’s the list. On my tangible charm bracelet I’d like to add the following in any form other than gold, please:

The Number 4
This number always makes strong appearances in my life when I need to redirect my focus toward my foundations and habits. It represents stability and tradition, which I like to abandon but find structure and success within, ultimately. (Four Agreements, Four Seasons, and Four Directions being most important in this icon to me.)

A Sun
My cards tell me repeatedly that this is the role I play in my life. It’s intimidating and I spent many years denying it or spitting in God’s eye at such a notion. It’s time to be grateful for it. Plus, it’s the part of “Demon Days” that I like to repeat to myself in tough times:

Turn yourself ’round;
don’t burn yourself!
Turn yourself around to the Sun!
To the Sun!
To the Sun!

A Sacred/Burning Heart
Preferably not as shown connected to Jesus, in the style of milagro. The image for me means something different entirely and is my pledge to “let my light shine” instead of grappling with it or trying to change it or forcing myself to shine when I’m not supposed to.

A Cross
Not that I agree with symbolizing the place where Jesus bit it, necessarily (I think we should symbolize him in the tomb where he supposedly rose again. Isn’t that what makes him significant in the first place?), but being that this is the most common image of such a great teacher, I do want to include it.

The Goddess
Also a habit of cycles in 4’s, the Moon Goddess appeals to my feminine side and calls my hormones around monthly, bringing new perspectives and new beginnings.

An Elephant
My favorite animal and a global sign for luck.

A Bear
I know I said I have one of this significant totem animal, but I worry about the clarity and durability of the one I received from my minister. It’ll hold a special place on my altar, but one with more resilience would be appreciated.

A Water-Bearer
I’m an Aquarius/Capricorn cusp, but I tend to resonate better and more frequently with the water sign. I like the image of Poseidon bearing water, but I’m partial to mermaids to begin with. I’m happy with whatever I receive.

I promise not to get too overwhelmed with this, but enjoy the idea of a gentle reminder of my guides and icons once in a while. Thank you for your time and consideration in this matter.

Sincerely,
Castallare

… ambitious though my cause for worldly understanding may be, I didn’t take into consideration that I’ve been Americanized my entire life and may have a hard time immediately adjusting to just a drastic diet change.

Imagine that.

Forgetting the obvious fact that jumping from a 1,500-calorie diet to a 400-calorie diet overnight could take serious tolls on my overall health, I eagerly jumped on board with my Poverty Diet and found that vitamin and herbal supplements weren’t doing much to combat the EFFING CRAZIES that came around at about 8 p.m. By the second day the lightheadedness and drifting consciousness got to be too much, and, as Evil Slutopia mentioned I had to take my well-being as a parent into consideration.

I’m still trying the diet changes for meditational purposes, but I’m pacing myself a little better this time as, after all, the people I’m focusing on have lived with these conditions for a very long time and their bodies have become acclimated to taking in this amount of food. Even though many people are slowly starving to death, their bodies function differently than an American who is mostly sedentary and takes in 3-5 times as many calories each day. I have to keep that in mind if I’m going to keep myself functioning.

Right now I’m doing one rice-or-beans-or-oats meal a day and skipping snacks during the day, so I feel the hunger that was my intended purpose for meditation, anyway. I may move this to two and then three meals a day, but keeping my health in mind is my responsibility, second to Chloe’s.

It’s weird; this is another one of those things that I could’ve easily suffered through just a couple years ago. Greg and I have discussed that we’d definitely be willing to live a poor, bohemian, starving-artist lifestyle without question if we didn’t have Chloe to worry about, but I kinda thought that only pertained to life on a larger scheme. We’d think about that when choosing houses and neighborhoods and what she eats and cars, but I didn’t think it would affect even the little things like what I was putting into my body on a daily basis.

Hunh.

“Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread.”                                    ~ Richard Wright

I’ve often been accused of being a bit of a “bleeding heart” in that I cannot say “no” to cookie-bearing Girl Scouts or overpriced independent merchants just as much as I can’t bypass a beggar without sharing what I have or walk away from a charity without giving at least something. But really, I’m a pretty Americanized version of a bleeding heart when it comes right down to it. Before I was pregnant, I dreamed of joining the Peace Corps to play pretend in another country and observe their lives from the perspective of an overprivileged Westerner. I imagined myself working side-by-side with natives to learn a language and build schools and hospitals to return home and tell everyone I knew about this beautiful, vast world that exists beyond the commercial bubble we pride ourselves on maintaining. I even imagined the smug new attitude I’d gain as I became more worldly, more “experienced” in things like poverty and despair that obviously would make me a better, richer, more self-fulfilled human being who could educate these ignorant Americans to the great struggles of the world around me. I thought, foolishly, that traveling out and seeing these things for myself were the only ways I could actualize myself as a generous, caring person who was helping the world instead of sitting inside my little wealthy bubble and wondering what I could do to look better, make more money, gain more fame.

Naturally, when I made the decision to raise a daughter and marry, I assumed the responsibilities of giving Chloe the best life she can possibly have. We have plans to travel and live abroad, but admittedly, we will plan to live in areas that are “safe” and socially sound, instead of risking ourselves and our cleanliness as we might’ve done if we didn’t have a little one in tow. Now when we peruse emigration possibilities, our interests settle on places like Australia (duh), Italy, Spain, Ireland, and Greece instead of India, South Korea, Peru, or South Africa as they were a few years ago. I feel myself pulling back into my eliticism and I’ve been struggling very hard not to hate myself for subscribing to such a spoiled, self-centered/serving mentality in this new domestic life I’ve obtained.

In my depression, my mind first begins to convince me that I am worthless, usually by pointing out that I give nothing to society. Recently, this has been really pulling at my conscience as I find myself staying at home and watching my daughter day in and out, only emerging to replenish our household needs or attempt to sell someone something for the purpose of making a little money. Most days, I am embarassed to be so “kept” and comfortable when there are people starving and struggling to stay alive in regions of the world I have never visited. Even moreso, I am ashamed that my mind is convincing me to consider suicide when I have so very much to be grateful for and live a life of luxury that many cannot fathom. It’s enough inner-turmoil to drive a person insane.

In my search for purpose and peace, I’ve decided to take a new route with my service and understanding of the world. Instead of whining that I can’t contribute to the world at large, I’m taking action larger than I have before. Usually, I’m pretty charitable in general; I give blood every 6 weeks, I donate money regularly to CASA, I rescue kittens and find homes for them, I buy $1 umbrellas to keep in my car and hand to those trapped out in the rain as I’m driving around, at Christmas I choose a child from one of the McDonald’s Angel Trees and go on a shopping spree for everything on their wish lists (this usually maxes out my credit card because I LOVE shopping for kids.) These things make me feel useful and helpful within my community and yet, I still feel completely disconnected from the sort of aching and despair that I’ve read and heard about for the entirety of my life. I still feel like a social fat cat, sitting in my palace, sprinkling my spare change on those who are begging to stay alive. Gross.

So, I’m making some changes. I’m starting small and starting with myself. For a few weeks, I’m assuming a diet of 1 cup of beans, rice, OR oatmeal for every meal, to better understand hunger and what it means to not have the option of more. (I won’t be weighing myself, by the way, so this isn’t some gimmick for weight-loss.) I’m not naive enough to believe that I will have a complete understanding of hunger and loss during or after this experiment, being that I will be enjoying these meals with my family in a heated house with the option to eat more if I decide to, but I hope the monotony and time away from culinary indulgences will lend me even a little bit of perspective. Additionally, I’ll be limiting my indulgences on a number of levels. I’m the queen of indulging myself to make myself feel better, always making time for a nap if I feel I “just can’t handle things”, or having a once-monthly cigarette “to treat myself”, or snacking on something calorie-laden after a rough day “because I deserve it” and, naturally, none of these things actually make me feel any better about myself. (I know, this is painfully obvious to most people.) Sure, momentarily a nap makes me feel luxurious and pampered, a cigarette makes me relax, and eating icing from the can makes me shudder with chocogasm, but in the long run, they haven’t strengthened me and have turned me into this self-indulgent wuss. I’ve gotta change that if I’m going to grow. It’s seriously overdue by at least a half-decade. So I’m also cutting out my leisure time spent on the Internet, flipping through vapid magzines, and watching mindless television. I’m stripping my life down to simple pleasures and finding purpose and contentment in tasks and routine. It’s a life I’ve always admired and it offers me no chance of escaping into hours of mindless facebook/celebrity-site-stalking or “Desperate Housewives” reruns on Lifetime or reading about Heidi and Spencer eloping in US Weekly (ugh.) I want to be happy and content with being organically, soberly alive and I feel certain I’ve got to strip myself of all my typical, habitual diversions for a while in order to do that. Finally.

I know, it seems like a rather selfish mission with a few ulterior motives, but isn’t everyone’s humble quest to better themselves a little selfish inherently? Even Mother Teresa worked to serve others, but she still took time to focus on herself and better herself as a person, if only to be a better servant. Meher Baba declared “Mastery in Servitude” to be his movement’s motto in 1938 and many flocked to his beliefs in hopes of finding salvation through giving. I don’t think these leaders were wrong in their methods for self-actualization. To me, it’s all about learning to love yourself and learning to give to/love others all at the same time. I think it’s all cyclical and, mostly,  I know that I can’t be of any service if I’m not a functioning, capable tool.  [Insert "tool" joke here.] 

Also, I’ve finally stopped making excuses and have adopted a child through Compassion which I’ve always heard is very reputable and a great overall organization. Although I’m not necessarily fond of the whole missionary/Christian/bible-thumping-agenda tie-in, I like that they have a longstanding healthy relationship with each country involved and a dependable history in general. I’m sponsoring a 15-year old girl in Peru who enjoys listening to rock music, playing volleyball and reading… So maybe I’m playing favorites a little. However, I wanted to choose a girl who was right in the throes of adolescence as those are the years girls in Peru (and other povertous countries) tend to drop out of school and turn to alternative employment. I like the idea of giving her the creative outlets and an opportunity for a voice that I was awarded when I needed it in my teens and, while I’m sure I won’t be able to save her or anything, I feel like I’m doing something important for someone outside my little American bubble. That’s brought me a little peace already.

Those are among the new steps I’m making to get out of my head, find some sanity/purpose and work on a global scale. Like Ed Norton’s character Sheldon Mopes says in Death to Smoochy, “You can’t change the world, but you can make a dent.” I’d like to start working on my dent, which seems like a better new direction than the ones I’ve been trying to find something tangible and alive to focus on.

I don’t expect this to revolutionize my soul or create some newfound energy in me where I want to conquer the world a la Winfrey, but I hope that this small meditation and change in my habits will give me a place to stand firmly and rebuild some sense of self. I feel optimistic.