Embracing the Unknown: Practicing Love with My Eyes Wide Open
It is always difficult for me to say goodbye after spending a week surrounded by connection, joy, acceptance, and an abundance of LOVE. There is a kind of love I experience at these events that is difficult to describe. It's different from the love I have for my husband, my child, my family, or my pets. It is somehow broader—a love for people I may have only just met because, deep in my soul, I know we are not separate. We are ONE.
Of course, it's one thing to feel that way inside a ballroom surrounded by people who have spent a week meditating, opening their hearts, hugging one another, and intentionally creating connection. It's another thing entirely to carry that feeling back into everyday life, and that's the part I want to remember. If I can experience genuine love for someone I just met at a weeklong meditation retreat, then why can't I extend that same compassion to the strangers I encounter in the rest of my life? The person who bumps into me, the child who splashes me, the person who is impatient, or the stranger who simply doesn't behave the way I think they should. They aren't separate from me either.
Apparently, I was going to get plenty of practice before I even left San Diego. I spent part of yesterday at the wave pool, which, as you can imagine, is not exactly a peaceful meditation retreat. There were kids everywhere. Adults everywhere. People were splashing, kicking, bumping into one another, throwing footballs, and even throwing kids through the air—which, admittedly, was pretty funny to watch. Did I get annoyed? A couple of times. But for the most part, I caught myself. I practiced being gracious, kind, and understanding instead of immediately judging what everyone around me was doing. I reminded myself that I am not separate from these people. I am connected to them.
That has given new meaning to something Dr. Joe says frequently during meditation: “Open your heart.” For me, opening my heart doesn't mean something I only do with my eyes closed during meditation. It means moving through my day in compassion mode. It means that when someone behaves in a way that isn't aligned with who I want to be, instead of immediately judging them, perhaps I can allow the experience to remind me of who I do want to be. Then I can choose to be the example.
My daughter is really good at this, and on our last night she reminded me just how powerful something as simple as acknowledging another person can be. We were getting ready to enjoy our final evening at the beautiful Gaylord Pacific hotel, and I had already set one very simple intention for dinner: I wanted a great salad. Nothing earth-shattering. Just give me a really good salad and I'm happy.
We stepped onto the elevator with two gentlemen, and my daughter immediately greeted them. “Hi! How was your day today?” That's it. One simple question. We started chatting, and one of the men told us he was from Texas and was thoroughly enjoying the San Diego weather. As the elevator continued down, and we began walking, my daughter said, “Oh, it looks like we're going in the same direction.” Our new friend from Texas told us he was heading to the sports bar, and we chimed in, “Oh, that's where we're going!”
Then he mentioned that the sports bar might be closed because there was a private event happening there. Sure enough, when we arrived, it was. My daughter and I weren't quite sure what we were going to do next when our Texas friend simply said, “Well, walk in as my guest.” So we did.
Suddenly, our quiet last-night dinner turned into something completely unexpected. The room was pumping with music and filled with people celebrating the end of their event, and almost immediately I saw something that made me ridiculously happy: not one, but two HUGE salad bars. Oh yeah. I was in heaven. And it didn't stop there. There were sliders, fried chicken, truffle fries, BBQ wings, desserts, an ice cream bar, and an open bar with beer, wine, and champagne. Huge screens filled the room with football, and before long we were dancing to music I absolutely loved.
I had wanted a salad. Apparently, the Universe heard SALAD and said, Hold my champagne.
But what stayed with me wasn't the food, the drinks, the football, or even the dancing. It was how the entire experience began: “Hi. How was your day today?” My daughter didn't know this man. She wasn't trying to get anything from him. She wasn't trying to manifest dinner or get us into a private party. She simply acknowledged another human being and opened the door to connection. And he opened it a little wider.
That's what made the evening feel magical to me. We spend so much time talking about manifestation as though it means sitting quietly, imagining exactly what we want, and waiting for the Universe to deliver it. But perhaps sometimes manifestation looks much simpler than that. Maybe it's setting an intention and then walking through life open enough to notice where it might lead. Maybe it's talking to the stranger in the elevator, accepting an unexpected invitation, changing plans instead of resisting when the original plan doesn't work out, or simply saying hello.
I had spent the week practicing opening my heart with my eyes closed. Yet on our final night, my daughter reminded me how important it is to practice opening my heart with my eyes wide open. Because meditation doesn't mean very much if everything we discover about love, compassion, connection, and oneness stays behind when we leave the meditation room. The real practice begins when we walk back into the world.
It's at the wave pool when someone splashes us. It's in the elevator with people we've never met. It's in restaurants, parking lots, grocery stores, airports, classrooms, workplaces, and homes. These are the ordinary moments when we get to decide whether we're going to close ourselves off or remain open. It's easy to feel connected when we're surrounded by people intentionally practicing love and connection. The challenge is remembering that connection when we're surrounded by the rest of humanity just living their lives.
I went into our final evening wanting a really good salad. What I received was a beautiful reminder that connection doesn't always require some grand gesture. Sometimes it begins with five simple words: “How was your day today?” We never could have known where that little exchange in an elevator would lead us, and perhaps that's exactly the point.
Open your heart. Keep your eyes open. And embrace the unknown.
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