There Is No “Other”

Humans have invented all kinds of concepts and labels to distance themselves from one another and convince themselves they are somehow special or better. We view the world through artificial lenses such as race, religion, species, gender, sexual preference, age, nationality, politics; we see “other” everywhere we look. And, historically, not others to be accepted and embraced, but others to be avoided or ostracized, often to the point of war and genocide. Underneath it all is fear: fear of survival, fear that we, and our belief systems, will die while others survive. Ultimately, it’s denial of the impermanence of life. 

Throughout the decades, people have built statues, monuments, roads, bridges, and starred sidewalks, all with human names, to create the illusion of permanence, immortality. We get lost in identification with our own physical form and attachment to all the transitory forms that surround us. The human mind wants to believe it can make a permanent impression on the world and somehow survive the life/death trajectory. Everything seen as “other” becomes a threat to that desperate survival need.  Yet, we are all going to die eventually. No exceptions. Neither fame, wealth, nor power will keep the door from closing. Mother Earth herself may not survive in her present form. The universe is eternally fluid, and at the soul level so are we.

Sooner or later, we all return to the same infinite energy source from which we emerged. This Source goes by many names: Spirit, Soul, God, Light, Infinite Consciousness. Within it, there is no “other.” There is nothing but seamless Presence, Oneness. And actually, that Oneness is what exists here on Earth as well, behind the veil of form. Perhaps we came here, in these particular lifetimes, to realize that and fully live it now, as all differences become obviously insubstantial and dissolve everywhere around us. We begin to see that we will leave this life without any part of our physical form, including opinions, beliefs, likes/dislikes. In that awareness, there is no separation or polarity. When the illusion of “other” falls away, compassion and love emerge, and the full light of Source energy shines through us all.

This is the journey for every one of us alive at this time. To stop looking at others as wrong or right, better or less, likable or unlikable, but instead just another human version of ourselves, trying to understand life and mortality. To be fully human is to accept it all and let it all go—into the infinite Presence that makes up all things. There is no “other”; there is only each and all of us, together as One.

Deep Dive or Distraction?

More and more these days, I find myself seeking empty space, deeper stillness within me and outside me. There are so many distractions in our lives now: news updates, emails, texts, apps, ads, online videos and articles, mental lists, busy streets, crowded stores. It can be a real challenge to find a place of silence and solitude where the mind and heart can be at rest. A sanctuary for the spirit.

Perhaps the key is to carry that sanctuary within. I don’t have to “seek” if it’s always inside me. And the more awareness I have of my own inner stillness, the more I experience it everywhere. Every sound can be a meditation bell calling me to quiet Presence. Every breath a softening into silence.

So my spiritual “practice” now involves asking the inner questions: “Does this take me deeper?” “Does it touch my heart and soul?” If not, it’s probably a distraction that it’s best to acknowledge and then let go of. Perhaps a hundred times a day. But with every letting go, I release with greater ease and go deeper. Deeper into nothing…

What is there to say about nothingness, within which eternity lies? We were there before we were born, and we’ll be there again after death. Actually we are there now too, but we are not fully aware of it. On a spiritual path, we gradually open our consciousness to the fullness of nothing, the depth and sacredness of it. As we grow older, we may realize there really is no separation, and in doing so feel a desire to consciously experience it completely within our lifetime: Emptiness and fullness as One. Oneness as all.

The poet William Blake expressed this seeming dichotomy perfectly: “To see the world in a grain of sand/And a heaven in a wild flower/To hold infinity in the palm of your hand/And eternity in an hour.” Maybe the poets and sages are the wayshowers here. In addition to the small children and wise elders who see oneness without a word spoken.

 All this is within each of us, in this present moment. Empty your hands and your mind, and stand alone with nothing but silent spirit surrounding you and within you. On the other side of distraction is the deepest experience possible of All That Is. This is heaven on Earth; this is everything, everywhere; before, during, and after life. Nothing in all its fullness.

Forever and Ever…

When I was five or six years old, I began having a recurring nighttime thought that terrified me. I described it to my mother as “The world goes on forever and ever.” My mind froze with fear when that perception arose in my consciousness, and I sat bolt upright in bed shaking my head frantically to get rid of it. My mother tried to help by suggesting I distract myself with happier thoughts. Her loving presence comforted me but did not erase the underlying feeling of terror and overwhelm. Years later I called it fear of infinity or eternity.

It felt like I was looking into the farthest stretches of the universe, an infinite void with no beginning and no end. As a child, I had no language or framework for that. It was so huge, so vast, I felt lost, engulfed. As a young adult, I ran from it, attempting to avoid its appearance in my night thoughts. Eventually I embarked on a journey of spiritual seeking, trying to come to some understanding of the nature of life/death, and resolution of my own existential despair—the grief beneath the fear of “forever and ever.”

Over the years, various teachers, in particular Panache Desai, helped me see infinity in a more positive light—indeed as light, as spirit. I was looking into the darkness, but within the darkness was the light of eternal Spirit, which cannot really be understood but only experienced. A five-year-old child staring at that limitless space does not recognize it as God or Spirit but rather as the unknown; emptiness. Something to be feared. Only recently have I begun to see my child’s vision as a soul gift, which set me on a life path of searching for the meaning of life and learning about Spirit’s presence.

I have tremendous gratitude for that gift, for the awareness it has brought me through so many spiritually expansive experiences. Yet there still remains a kernel of sadness within me as well. A recognition that life’s mysteries can never be solved. Many Native American cultures teach that only in complete acceptance of the “Great Mystery” as such is there peace. I’m finally reaching that view now, and I realize it is all part of my soul’s plan for my life.

For years, I thought that I could “solve” the mystery, and my nighttime fear of infinity would disappear entirely through “understanding” God. This was partially true: deeper soul awareness and trust in the wisdom of Spirit softened the edges and frequency of the fear. Ultimately, however, I am learning that only in full acceptance of life as is, as profound divine mystery, does total inner peace arise. I still have passing moments of sadness or grief about the nature of human life and death and “forever and ever.” At those times, the only “answer” is acceptance, surrender, complete letting go. If I take a deep breath and look up, seeing the infinite blue sky with my soul’s eyes, I feel peace. And perhaps that’s the greatest wisdom of all. 

Finding Softness in a Hard World

We are constantly bombarded these days with images of violence, conflict, fear, and hatred, whether on the news or in films and TV shows. Varied voices surround us, advocating anger and defiance or peace and compassion—or all simultaneously. Each voice belongs to a human being wearing an identity costume that hides their vulnerability. As individuals and as a people, we are in distress. The world seems on the brink of destruction. Yet in the midst of it all, there are also voices that remind us that this is a transformative transitional time, foretold in ancient cultures. We are not here to perish but to prevail, as spirit, as light.

Sound like a fairy tale? A fabricated distraction that feeds inertia? I don’t think it is. Perhaps belief in a greater purpose to life and living will be what gives us strength and stamina to continue to live love and hope in a world divided into fragmented sectors of adversity and suffering. Birth pains bring new life into being. Thunderstorms and floods are often followed by rainbows and clear air. Not everything is as it appears on the surface. A hard shell covers a soft center.

If we choose soft instead of hard in every situation, we engage the softest part of us, the heart. And the heart, through which the soul is expressed, is also the strongest survival tool we have. The greatest sages through the ages spoke of the wisdom and power of loving-kindness. In the face of life or death, be loving, be kind. Ask, “Can I help you?” One small gesture or word, amplified, can shift the consciousness of a planet. This is why we came here. Not for the easy ride or the simple tasks, but for the challenge of speaking the softest words and offering the gentlest touch in times of fear or trauma.

On any given day, we have that choice, we have that soul responsibility. When the entire world feels harsh and unfeeling, remember the power of your heart and soul and the reason why you (and all of us) were born.

Andrea Gibson: After Life

“I am happiest on the road, when I’m not here or there, but in between, the yellow line running down the center of it all like a sunbeam.”
–Andrea Gibson

I was not familiar with the work of dynamic spoken-word poet Andrea Gibson until after they (preferred nonbinary pronoun) transitioned in July 2025 from ovarian cancer. In November, I happened to see the trailer for a documentary film about Andrea called Come See Me in the Good Light. Next, I stumbled upon a clip of their friend Tig Notaro reading part of Andrea’s poem “Tincture.” Moved to tears, I found the entire poem online and read it through twice, continuing to weep. The kind of tears I had never experienced in quite the same way before: sorrow simultaneous with celebration of life. Andrea’s poetry encompasses both of these in extraordinary ways.

Thus began my hours-long journey across the web, watching every video I could find: Andrea’s poetry performances; Andrea and partner/wife Megan Falley (also a poet) being interviewed; Megan revealing her own feelings after Andrea’s passing; the trailer from the film and the song “Salt Then Sour Then Sweet,” sung by Sarah Bareilles and Brandi Carlile (with Andrea’s words) at the film’s end. Andrea’s website (andreagibson.org) showcases their vividly diverse poetry (lyrical, incisive, humorous, loving). The first poem I heard/saw was “Love Letter from the Afterlife,” written to Megan. I was audibly sobbing by the fourth or fifth line. I’ve listened to it many times since, and it still feels like the most beautifully wise poem ever written. I have been reading poetry all my life but have never run across any quite like hers.

Andrea’s words bridge life, death, and eternity seamlessly, using details recognizable from my own life, from everyone’s life. It all flowed together perfectly as I listened, crying at the heart-wrenching pathos and absolute splendor of life on Earth. Sadness and joy as one inseparable experience. At the end of the afternoon, I felt as if everyone I had ever known had died and come back to life. All at the same time. Everything inside me and outside me as One. That may not make logical sense, but that’s the best way I can describe the experience. Even my tears held the precious poignancy of all life in them.

And then there’s the film. After hearing/seeing all these pieces of Andrea’s life and work, I watched Come See Me in the Good Light, where it all comes together in an extraordinarily honest, funny, and beautiful telling of their (and Meg’s) journey with cancer. Once again, loss of life and love of life are presented as one experience in a way that is both heart-breaking and heart-opening. They share what they went through (for several years) with such vulnerability, humor, and loving sweetness. I laughed, I cried, I felt what they felt right along with them.

 Andrea’s description of coming to inner acceptance and neutrality about so much that had previously “mattered” struck a chord in my own life (I lived through breast cancer a few years ago). They felt parts of their “identity” fall away as they settled into soul awareness. Nothing was as important as the present moment, fully lived and appreciated. I still hear Andrea’s deeply expressive, musical voice at their last poetry performance in Denver in 2024 (shown in the film), the entire theater as one, cheering, laughing, crying, immersed in love.

I believe Andrea Gibson came to Earth to erase the dividing line between life and death. Between all dichotomies, actually. A perfectly nonbinary life and afterlife. Woven into the tapestry of the universe with precisely orchestrated timing for humanity’s deeper awakening. Thank you, Andrea, for your love letter to us all.

“Love Letter from the Afterlife”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmZHLvq-gDg

“Acceptance Speech After Setting the World Record in Goosebumps”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XK-hb_bjqU 

Trailer from Come See Me in the Good Light: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0B8sjxR7Mo

Rose of Sharon art above by Anne Katzeff