It’s 8:44 pm, December 29, 2016, and as I sit down to my computer I am filled with profound sorrow—my heart deeply broken, wounded. My dad, my hero, died this morning, complications related to the dementia that he fought for more than three years.
When my older sister delivered the devastating news after calling me this morning, I sat numb. Surely, she's mistaken, or perhaps, I'm having a nightmare. "Please God, let me be having a nightmare," I thought. Mere moments after I hung up the phone, still numb, I arose, showered and headed to my parents' home praying that my sister was mistaken.
It seemed only a few short hours before that I'd seen my dad. I spent most of yesterday with him—sitting with him, talking with him, singing to him, dancing "with" him (we liked to keep the swing music channel playing because he liked the music), trying to coax him to eat. I wheeled him over to the front door so he could look out and see what a beautiful day it was, never suspecting that those moments, that day, would be our last together.
I don’t think I told my father often enough how much I loved and respected him, or how much I learned from him. I'm certain he knew. Over the course of my life, particularly after becoming a teenager, my father and I had our share of disagreements about a great many things. Most children and their parents do, yet I respected him as a father and as a man, and loved him deeply, and I know he loved me. He loved all of us very deeply—his children, grandchildren, great grands, and my mom. He was very proud of his family.
Before the dementia and even in the early to middle stages of it, my father always carried himself with an air of dignity and confidence and grace, wherever he went. He was a strong, intelligent, independent, hardworking, and genial man of steadfast faith and conviction.
He loved people and he loved serving people. He was committed to demonstrating his faith in God through his actions—he diligently and compassionately served the members of his congregations and the community for more than 60 years. Whenever someone called my dad for prayer, he responded. Sometimes it didn’t matter what time of the night or day it was. I witnessed him on many occasions get out of his bed after midnight to drive to a hospital to pray for a member or one of their family members who was sick and wanted prayer. You could say that love by deed, not by word only was his motto.
I used to marvel at the ease with which my father could engage strangers in hours-long conversations, about pretty much anything: religion, politics, raising children, cars, sports, home repairs, fishing, race walking, and very definitely the Bible. It seemed as if people instinctively knew he was a man who cared about them and would try to help them in some way if need be, so they would pour out their hearts to him and he'd listen, always directing them to trust and believe in God to work things out on their behalf. I also think his friends and neighbors just enjoyed talking with him because he had such a warm, friendly presence.
For nearly 20 years, I had the honor of serving as my father’s assistant and office administrator at the church that he founded and oversaw for nearly 50 years. I accompanied him to most of his speaking engagements, and to a few marriage ceremonies, funeral services, nursing home and hospital visits and occasional home visits. It was my job to keep up with his hat (as he never went anywhere without a proper hat), his robe, and sometimes his Bible. Witnessing him in action outside of Sunday mornings, I can attest as can my entire family to the fact that he held firm in his beliefs and what he taught others about God and Christ. Even during the final days of his life, we would hear him talking of God's love, singing a praise song even if he could no longer remember all the words, and offering up a “hallelujah” or two. I remember him telling me just a few days before he died as I sat by his bed, "It'll be alright, God is going to bless you, baby."
Among my favorite sermons that I can recall my dad preaching was some years ago, mid 2000s, about the story of how King Jehoshaphat and the children of Israel prevailed against a threatened attack by the Moabites and Ammonites. (2 Chronicles: 20) When my dad started feeling that thing as he was talking, I remember vividly how he began to walk up and down the aisles—handkerchief in hand, head thrown back—exuberantly declaring over and over and over again as King Jehoshaphat had instructed the children of Israel to do: “Praise the LORD, for his mercy endures forever. Praise the LORD, for his mercy endures forever.” "Whatever you're going through, whatever the problem," I remember him saying just keep repeating “Praise the LORD, for his mercy endures forever.”’
At home later that evening, I could still hear my father's voice ringing in my ears: "Praise the Lord, for his mercy endures forever."
Despite growing up poor in the segregated south, my dad knew he wanted more for his life and was determined to get it. He often shared the story of how he committed himself to leaving the red dirt roads of Texasville, Ala., and forging a better life for himself and the family he hoped to have one day. He devoted himself to learning to read and write, believing that education/knowledge was his way out of poverty. My dad loved to read, he loved learning. During the early years of his life and ministry, he read through the Bible so many times that he could quote it word for word, chapter and verse, even the most obscure passages.
He instilled in us, his children, a great thirst for knowledge and passion for education. I cannot count the number of times he'd admonish us while we were in school to make learning as much as we could a top priority. He'd share with us stories of how blacks in the south were denied access to quality education, and how vitally important it is to our success in life to take advantage of any opportunity we have to learn. "People can take away your money and your possessions,” he'd tell us, “but what you have inside you, inside your head, no one can take that away.”
My father also instilled in us the value of hard work and giving 200 percent to whatever you do. He encouraged us to always be diligent in our work, no matter what job or position we held. Countless times I'd listen as he reminded me or someone else, "Even if you're only hired to be the janitor, then you mop floors like Michelangelo painted pictures," an expression I would later learn that he loosely borrowed from the late Dr. Martin Luther King. It may not have been an original expression, but my dad believed it and demonstrated it as he was definitely a diligent worker. In fact, it was his diligence while working as a janitor at NSA that caught the attention of a director who offered him the opportunity to secure a better position provided my dad complete college. He did and was promoted as promised. My dad retired from NSA in 1977 as one of the agency's chief analysts. It was this same diligence that earned him a number of top sales awards and honors as a district manager for World Book. Not bad for an African American man raised in abject poverty in a small town in Alabama that most people have never heard of.
Years after retiring, my dad would give me and my family another reason to be very proud of him when at the ripe young age of 75 he received his Master's in Divinity; about two years later at 77, he received his Doctorate degree, officially earning the title "Dr. King" by which many people had been referring to him for years.
By afternoon today, my siblings and I began notifying friends, extended family members, neighbors, and former members of his congregation about my dad's death. Almost immediately, the condolences began pouring in with many expressing how much they loved my dad and how his presence in their life had impacted them for the better. It made my heart glad for others to share how much they loved and respected my dad.
In January of this year, I wrote another post about being awakened one night by my dad while staying at my parents’ home. He was delivering what sounded like a sermon—the familiar preacher's cadence, strong urging, intermingled with an occasional “Hallelujah.” I recalled that night how just six years ago, while watching my father speak one Sunday morning I thought that he may very well leave this life like Moses—full of strength and days. He was already in his mid-80s then, and preached as hard that day as I had heard him preach 20 years prior.
As the dementia took hold and he began to struggle to recall the Bible verses that once came to him so easily, or what he had eaten for dinner mere moments after he'd eaten it, my faith began to falter. It was rekindled that night in January as I listened to him speak. And in the days afterward, I could still sense the fight in him as he sought to hold onto the memories of the names of his children and grandchildren, the place where he grew up and his current home, his sense of independence (“I know what I’m doing,” he'd shout sometimes when someone was trying to help him), and even his own name.
“Keep fighting dad!” I wrote. “While you may not leave here like Moses, at the very least you'll be able to say like Paul: "I have fought a good fight, I have kept the faith.”’
My dad lived a remarkable life devoted not only to caring for his family, but also to caring for and serving his neighbors, church members, and anyone else God placed in his path. He was loved by many, most especially his family.
Right now my family and I are hurting—deeply. I cannot find the words to fully describe the pain and emptiness I am feeling in my heart. Even now as I sit
here writing this, I am wishing I could just close my eyes and awaken
to discover that this whole day has been one really long, bad dream. I
don’t expect this hurt, this emptiness I'm feeling to ever fully leave
me as the selfish part of me wanted my dad to tough it out and remain
here with me.
The loving part of me, however, deeply
desired for him to be free of the hateful disease that had stolen his
mind and life. I had prayed countless days and nights since my dad’s
became ill for his healing until his last day in his physical body. And still I prayed, even after he departed. For
reasons I will never know, it was not to be.
I am grateful for all the invaluable lessons my father taught me, and for the love he showered upon me, upon all of us. Throughout his life, throughout his ministry, he gave selflessly of himself. Even when my father and I disagreed, sometimes quite intensely, I knew he loved me. He simply wanted for me, for all of his children, his grandchildren, and great grandchildren, to live the best life we could possibly live.
As I sat in the living room of my parents' home this evening with my brother where less than 24 hours ago my father sat also, it was eerily quiet—"too quiet," my brother noted. Something, or more precisely, someone, was missing.
I want to believe that my dad, my hero, is at peace now, not in the way I had hoped, but still at peace.
Having witnessed all that my father went through during the past three years, particularly the last six months of his life, I take comfort in knowing that my father can truly claim as the Apostle Paul did that "I have fought a good fight and I kept the faith.”
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Monday, December 26, 2016
It's Christmas Night and My Dad is Enjoying a Pepsi and Ice Cream
It’s Christmas night, and as I glance at the clock on my laptop after helping my dad eat some ice cream and polish off a “Pepsi,” I notice it’s 11:11. I’ve read various places that seeing 11:11 is a sign that angels are near and/or listening to your prayers, which makes me feel happy for both me and my dad.
It has been a wonderful Christmas day with family for the first time in about six years, and tonight my dad ate, perhaps not what some would consider a lot, but he ate—a half scoop of ice cream and one and a half cups of “Pepsi.” It was actually Coke. He had asked for Pepsi; however, as there was none in the house, I improvised. Christmas miracles do happen.
It had been nearly two weeks since my dad last ate a meal or drank more than a few sips of anything. Everything we’d try to give him he either refused or spit out. By early Friday morning, just two days before Christmas, he had to be taken to the ER as recommended by his doctor so that he could be given fluids by IV. He was discharged about 12 hours later with the recommendation that we contact a local hospice for aid as there was nothing really that the hospital could do for him.
I can appreciate that hospices have helped many hundreds of thousands of people dealing with “terminal” illnesses and their family members prepare for what might seem to be the inevitable. I have no doubt that those people and their families are grateful for the aid they received, much of it in some cases at no cost to them. However, I feel quite strongly that my father would not want this for himself.
Before the dementia seemed to take over his mind, my father was a minister who believed in and preached life. He believed and taught that death, sickness, and disease are enemies of God—that it is not now, nor was it ever intended to be, His plan for us. My father believed that sickness, disease, and death should be fought against with prayer, not conditions we should peacefully accept and embrace. He believed that it was intended for people to live until a ripe old age and himself often stated he intended to hang out here until he was at least 100.
My father took very seriously his calling to “heal the sick and raise the dead.” He preached fervently to his congregation and to anyone else who would listen about the healing power of God. My father did not accept death or sickness as God's will as some do, so when it happened under his watch, it hurt him deeply as though he had failed God.
I recall after my oldest brother’s death and years later my nephew’s death, my dad spent hours in prayer at home and before the altar at the church where he was both pastor and founder crying out to God in repentance and seeking answers for how the "enemy satan was able to gain a victory," as my dad would say. He did the same after learning of the death of any member of his church or anyone else he had prayed for to be healed or in some way set free. He wanted to know "how we lost this one," because he steadfastly believed even in the face of failure that it is always God’s will to heal and restore life and when it did not happen, the failure lie with his own or the person’s lack of faith.
“I am the resurrection and the life,” I listened to my father intone at the beginning of the funeral services over which he presided. And at some point after he would take to the pulpit to deliver the message of consolation to family and friends, he would boldly declare “and the last enemy to be defeated is death.” (1 Corinthians 15:26)
It is not easy to hold onto faith in the face of apparent defeat—when everything you see and all that you hear is demanding that you just accept “reality.” Not easy at all to continue to believe what you cannot see, at least not with your physical eyes. The dementia that appears to have taken over my father’s mind is taxing on him, on me, and on my siblings. A once strong, proud, independent, and intelligent man is now dependent on hired caregivers and his children to feed, clothe, bathe and otherwise care for him in the way you would an infant, and struggles to string two coherent sentences together. People talk to, around and about him as if he has absolutely no awareness of what is going on at all. I'm as guilty of this as anyone, even though I know that the essence of who we are is consciousness or what some might call spirit.
Determined as I am to remain steadfast in my belief that healing is always possible, I must admit there are many days I have felt my faith waning, especially over the last few months of this year. The objective reality that I perceive/experience day-to-day with my dad tells me to give up and make peace with the situation. My father in his right state of mind would tell me I have my eyes fixed on the wrong thing—to judge by appearances only is to judge in error.
Yet, I know at my core miracles do happen. I’ve read and heard countless stories of people professing various religious beliefs or none at all who were at death’s door, doctors and family members having given them up for dead, and who experienced miraculous healings and went on to live many years afterward. I hear and read these stories and ask if it happened for them, then why not…?
"Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will restore the one who is sick." James 5:14-15
It has been a wonderful Christmas day with family for the first time in about six years, and tonight my dad ate, perhaps not what some would consider a lot, but he ate—a half scoop of ice cream and one and a half cups of “Pepsi.” It was actually Coke. He had asked for Pepsi; however, as there was none in the house, I improvised. Christmas miracles do happen.
It had been nearly two weeks since my dad last ate a meal or drank more than a few sips of anything. Everything we’d try to give him he either refused or spit out. By early Friday morning, just two days before Christmas, he had to be taken to the ER as recommended by his doctor so that he could be given fluids by IV. He was discharged about 12 hours later with the recommendation that we contact a local hospice for aid as there was nothing really that the hospital could do for him.
I can appreciate that hospices have helped many hundreds of thousands of people dealing with “terminal” illnesses and their family members prepare for what might seem to be the inevitable. I have no doubt that those people and their families are grateful for the aid they received, much of it in some cases at no cost to them. However, I feel quite strongly that my father would not want this for himself.
Before the dementia seemed to take over his mind, my father was a minister who believed in and preached life. He believed and taught that death, sickness, and disease are enemies of God—that it is not now, nor was it ever intended to be, His plan for us. My father believed that sickness, disease, and death should be fought against with prayer, not conditions we should peacefully accept and embrace. He believed that it was intended for people to live until a ripe old age and himself often stated he intended to hang out here until he was at least 100.
My father took very seriously his calling to “heal the sick and raise the dead.” He preached fervently to his congregation and to anyone else who would listen about the healing power of God. My father did not accept death or sickness as God's will as some do, so when it happened under his watch, it hurt him deeply as though he had failed God.
I recall after my oldest brother’s death and years later my nephew’s death, my dad spent hours in prayer at home and before the altar at the church where he was both pastor and founder crying out to God in repentance and seeking answers for how the "enemy satan was able to gain a victory," as my dad would say. He did the same after learning of the death of any member of his church or anyone else he had prayed for to be healed or in some way set free. He wanted to know "how we lost this one," because he steadfastly believed even in the face of failure that it is always God’s will to heal and restore life and when it did not happen, the failure lie with his own or the person’s lack of faith.
“I am the resurrection and the life,” I listened to my father intone at the beginning of the funeral services over which he presided. And at some point after he would take to the pulpit to deliver the message of consolation to family and friends, he would boldly declare “and the last enemy to be defeated is death.” (1 Corinthians 15:26)
It is not easy to hold onto faith in the face of apparent defeat—when everything you see and all that you hear is demanding that you just accept “reality.” Not easy at all to continue to believe what you cannot see, at least not with your physical eyes. The dementia that appears to have taken over my father’s mind is taxing on him, on me, and on my siblings. A once strong, proud, independent, and intelligent man is now dependent on hired caregivers and his children to feed, clothe, bathe and otherwise care for him in the way you would an infant, and struggles to string two coherent sentences together. People talk to, around and about him as if he has absolutely no awareness of what is going on at all. I'm as guilty of this as anyone, even though I know that the essence of who we are is consciousness or what some might call spirit.
Determined as I am to remain steadfast in my belief that healing is always possible, I must admit there are many days I have felt my faith waning, especially over the last few months of this year. The objective reality that I perceive/experience day-to-day with my dad tells me to give up and make peace with the situation. My father in his right state of mind would tell me I have my eyes fixed on the wrong thing—to judge by appearances only is to judge in error.
Yet, I know at my core miracles do happen. I’ve read and heard countless stories of people professing various religious beliefs or none at all who were at death’s door, doctors and family members having given them up for dead, and who experienced miraculous healings and went on to live many years afterward. I hear and read these stories and ask if it happened for them, then why not…?
"Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will restore the one who is sick." James 5:14-15
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
My Tomorrow is Not the Same as My Today
I love when the Universe sends me messages to let me know it’s listening to me. At least that’s what I choose to believe: that the Universe listens.
Tonight just before going to bed I decided to listen to an “I Am” meditation that someone had sent me as a gift. It was very brief, just slightly longer than three minutes. Although I was listening to it from my main iTunes library rather than my meditation playlist, I was startled when the meditation ended and the next “song” I heard wasn't another meditation but “Hold On” by Kansas. Wow!
I haven't heard the song in a very long while. At first I was confused about why it was the next song to play. It doesn't immediately follow the "I Am" meditation in the main list, and my playlists and the library is usually set to play songs in the order that they are listed. However, I noticed tonight the shuffle button was highlighted.
Since I intended to listen only to the meditation before retiring, I immediately turned off the Kansas song, but then had this sense I needed to listen to it. So, I did—
As I noted in a previous post, 2016 has at times felt a lot like the “year from hell” for me and I gather quite a few others if YouTube videos and news reports are to be trusted. I know that I am highly capable of accomplishing anything I set my mind to, but honestly this year tested my resilience and confidence in myself to the extreme limit. As the year winds down, it is challenging for me to look back over the past 12 months and not feel disappointed with myself and what I am currently experiencing in my life. It’s also challenging not to feel stuck when your mind begins to fixate on all the mistakes you’ve made, and you believe (wrongly) your future is completely screwed because of all the mistakes of your past.
As I look around me, I am certain that my current experience is not one that I intended to create for myself. I had something far grander in mind. Yet, I also know that too many times this year I allowed fear to make my decisions, short-circuiting my goals and dreams just as they were on the brink of coming into fruition. If your goal is to be successful and live a life beyond your wildest imaginations, fear-based decisions and actions will not get you there.
Anyway, I am determined to persevere in spite of, which is why I chose to listen to the “I am” meditation tonight before sleeping—to help lift my spirits, remind me of who I am, and of what I am capable. As author Wayne Dyer wrote in “Wishes Fulfilled” and stressed in many of his lectures, the last five minutes before you fall asleep are the most important minutes of your day. You can squander those five minutes before sleep reviewing all the things you didn’t like about your day, all the things that didn’t work, and all the stuff that’s going on with your life that you're unhappy about, setting yourself up for more of the same the next day. Or, you can use them to help create more of what you prefer to experience by focusing on your dreams, your goals, the people you love, and things you do enjoy about your life. I decided to go the latter route. Neither my past nor my present circumstances determine my future, unless I choose for them to.
1 1Written by Kerry Livgren • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Tonight just before going to bed I decided to listen to an “I Am” meditation that someone had sent me as a gift. It was very brief, just slightly longer than three minutes. Although I was listening to it from my main iTunes library rather than my meditation playlist, I was startled when the meditation ended and the next “song” I heard wasn't another meditation but “Hold On” by Kansas. Wow!
I haven't heard the song in a very long while. At first I was confused about why it was the next song to play. It doesn't immediately follow the "I Am" meditation in the main list, and my playlists and the library is usually set to play songs in the order that they are listed. However, I noticed tonight the shuffle button was highlighted.
Since I intended to listen only to the meditation before retiring, I immediately turned off the Kansas song, but then had this sense I needed to listen to it. So, I did—
"Look in the mirror and tell me just what you see.Thanks, Universe! It was exactly the message I needed to hear tonight.
What have the years of your life taught you to be.
Innocence dyin' in so many ways.
Things that you dream of are lost, lost in the haze.
"Hold on, Baby Hold on.
'Cause it's closer than you think and you're standing on the brink.
Hold on, Baby Hold on.
'Cause there's something on the way.
Your tomorrow's not the same as today." 1
As I noted in a previous post, 2016 has at times felt a lot like the “year from hell” for me and I gather quite a few others if YouTube videos and news reports are to be trusted. I know that I am highly capable of accomplishing anything I set my mind to, but honestly this year tested my resilience and confidence in myself to the extreme limit. As the year winds down, it is challenging for me to look back over the past 12 months and not feel disappointed with myself and what I am currently experiencing in my life. It’s also challenging not to feel stuck when your mind begins to fixate on all the mistakes you’ve made, and you believe (wrongly) your future is completely screwed because of all the mistakes of your past.
As I look around me, I am certain that my current experience is not one that I intended to create for myself. I had something far grander in mind. Yet, I also know that too many times this year I allowed fear to make my decisions, short-circuiting my goals and dreams just as they were on the brink of coming into fruition. If your goal is to be successful and live a life beyond your wildest imaginations, fear-based decisions and actions will not get you there.
Anyway, I am determined to persevere in spite of, which is why I chose to listen to the “I am” meditation tonight before sleeping—to help lift my spirits, remind me of who I am, and of what I am capable. As author Wayne Dyer wrote in “Wishes Fulfilled” and stressed in many of his lectures, the last five minutes before you fall asleep are the most important minutes of your day. You can squander those five minutes before sleep reviewing all the things you didn’t like about your day, all the things that didn’t work, and all the stuff that’s going on with your life that you're unhappy about, setting yourself up for more of the same the next day. Or, you can use them to help create more of what you prefer to experience by focusing on your dreams, your goals, the people you love, and things you do enjoy about your life. I decided to go the latter route. Neither my past nor my present circumstances determine my future, unless I choose for them to.
"Outside your door he is waiting, waiting for you.
Sooner or later you know he's got to get through.
No hesitation and no holding back.
Let it all go and you'll know you're on the right track."
"Hold on, Baby Hold on.
'Cause it's closer than you think and you're standing on the brink.
Hold on, Baby Hold on.
'Cause there's something on the way.
Your tomorrow's not the same as today." 1
1 1Written by Kerry Livgren • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Friday, December 16, 2016
So what, I’m still a Rockstar!!
“‘I am the greatest.’ I said that even before I knew I was.” - Muhammad Ali
I was feeling in a bit of a funk yesterday. Not sure why. Maybe there wasn’t even a reason why. I just woke up feeling kind of blah and as the day progressed, despite my best efforts to “go to my happy place,” I just couldn’t quite seem to get a better feeling place.
I suppose life is like that sometimes. We have days where we’re feeling on top of the world, as if all the planets, the sun and the moon are perfectly aligned and our day is turning out exactly as we want or planned it, and other days where we feel like we just want to stay in bed with the covers pulled over our heads. Those days where it seems nothing is working, or very little, and our “to do” lists and intentions get blown to hell. We're stressing over bad hair, or being bloated, or our tech toys not functioning properly, or our bank accounts—especially this time of year. I wasn’t full-on having one of those days yesterday; but, I still felt kind of blah.
After trying numerous tools in my feel-good tool box to feel better—walking, meditating, happy videos, even demanding myself to feel better—I decided to call it an early night, earlier than my usual night. However, just before I closed my eyes to sleep, I set an intention that “tomorrow will be better. I will wake up feeling great.”
I am feeling better today. In fact, I woke up feeling better than I did yesterday, and as I headed out for a walk after eating showering and eating breakfast, the lyrics to Pink’s “So What” popped into my head.
“Heck yeah,” I thought. “That’s me!”
Quite honestly today wasn’t very much different from yesterday other how I’m feeling. And maybe, just maybe the only reason for me feeling so blah yesterday was that I forgotten my rock star status.
Great days, good days, bad days, bad hair days, blah days, I’m still a rock star!
I was feeling in a bit of a funk yesterday. Not sure why. Maybe there wasn’t even a reason why. I just woke up feeling kind of blah and as the day progressed, despite my best efforts to “go to my happy place,” I just couldn’t quite seem to get a better feeling place.
I suppose life is like that sometimes. We have days where we’re feeling on top of the world, as if all the planets, the sun and the moon are perfectly aligned and our day is turning out exactly as we want or planned it, and other days where we feel like we just want to stay in bed with the covers pulled over our heads. Those days where it seems nothing is working, or very little, and our “to do” lists and intentions get blown to hell. We're stressing over bad hair, or being bloated, or our tech toys not functioning properly, or our bank accounts—especially this time of year. I wasn’t full-on having one of those days yesterday; but, I still felt kind of blah.
After trying numerous tools in my feel-good tool box to feel better—walking, meditating, happy videos, even demanding myself to feel better—I decided to call it an early night, earlier than my usual night. However, just before I closed my eyes to sleep, I set an intention that “tomorrow will be better. I will wake up feeling great.”
I am feeling better today. In fact, I woke up feeling better than I did yesterday, and as I headed out for a walk after eating showering and eating breakfast, the lyrics to Pink’s “So What” popped into my head.
So what, I’m still a rock star, I got my rock moves.
“Heck yeah,” I thought. “That’s me!”
Quite honestly today wasn’t very much different from yesterday other how I’m feeling. And maybe, just maybe the only reason for me feeling so blah yesterday was that I forgotten my rock star status.
Great days, good days, bad days, bad hair days, blah days, I’m still a rock star!
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
It's a Good Year
"Our seedtime is that moment in time when you and I react to anything in this world. It may be to an object, it may be to an individual, it may be to a bit of news that we have overheard, but the moment of reaction, that emotional response, is our attitude. Our attitudes are the seed times of life, and although we may not remember the seedtime or the moment of response, nature never forgets, and when it suddenly appears in our world…” – Neville Goddard
My sister just sent me a text about the death of actor Alan Thicke, most well-known for his role as the dad on Growing Pains. “2016 strikes again,” she wrote. My deepest condolences to his family and friends.
As this year comes to a close, I've lost track of all the times I've heard others refer to 2016 as the year of "hell." I've said it myself. And I suppose at first, or last, glance, 2016 is deserving of its reputation as a "hell of a year" as a lot of really crazy sh@@t happened this year, depending on how one defines such. The year certainly offered numerous shocking events and situations that might cause some to judge the year as chaotic, confusing, discordant, heartbreaking, or even tragic. Even the most optimistic in the positive thinking/LOA communities have bemoaned the year for numerous reasons, suggesting that dimensional shifts and unusual planetary alignments designed to uproot our collective deep-seated darkness so it can be healed is responsible for creating all the upheaval and turmoil.
But what if the truth is that 2016 wasn't really any different from any other year? Celebrities, politicians, heads of states, and regular folks die during the course of every year—that’s a given. Chaotic, confusing, discordant, heartbreaking, and tumultuous events and circumstances also occur with regularity during any year, depending on how you perceive what’s happening around you. And individuals and groups have been committing hostile, divisive, and hateful acts since Cain slew Abel. The only constant about reality on planet earth is that change is inevitable; some changes we might welcome and some, not so much.
Still, could it be that the challenges, upheaval, unpleasant events, etc., that occurred during 2016 weren’t the result of some mysterious energetic or dimensional shift, cosmic forces, or even a vengeful God preparing to exact judgment on His creation?
Could it be that the significance many of us have attached to 2016 is unwarranted and that it is just a year like any other, a measurement of the orbital period of the Earth moving in its orbit around the Sun, but our collective (or individual) choice during this particular orbital period to focus ad nauseam on the "craziness"—the chaos, confusion, heartbreak, discord, division—via the news, social media, and coffee-shop conversations, made it seem more significant, more challenging?
"If you believe in the horrors of the world as they are given to you in the paper and on television, your belief causes the horrors to continue." – Neville Goddard
One thing I’ve learned through the teachings of Neville Goddard is that which we focus on continually and give our emotional energy to, we will continually create into our reality—in some form or another. If we daily focus our attention on the mayhem, turmoil, and chaos happening in the world, and react to it, we will experience more of the same in the world and in our own lives. In other words, you only notice what you’re focused on noticing.
Some years ago I bought a Toyota Highlander. In the years before I bought it, I don’t recall ever seeing a Highlander on the street. In fact, when it was suggested to me that I buy one, I searched for information about it via Google because I hadn't heard of a Highlander before and knew nothing about it. Several months after buying one, I “suddenly” started seeing Highlanders everywhere, still do. What this shows me is that for all the craziness I, and others, chose to fixate upon in 2016, there are likely other events, more pleasant and positive events that I missed or that faded from my attention, which if I had focused on those might very well have opened up the possibility for me to experience even more pleasant and desired situations.
With 18 days remaining in 2016, it’s not too late. It’s never too late as long as you still have breath in your body to transform your circumstances, experiences, life.
Stuff happens all day, every day. What you focus on and give your emotional energy to is your choice. So, if 2016 hasn’t turned out quite the way you had hoped—if your dreams didn’t manifest as you intended and you got distracted by the crazy—don’t blame the year, the moon, the planets, or anything outside of yourself, just shift your focus to whatever thoughts, news, or images fill your heart with joy. Whatever you focus on expands.
...if you can believe and persuade yourself that things are as you want them to be to the point of actually moving into the feeling they are true, they will be felt and seen in your world. – Neville Goddard
Sunday, December 4, 2016
Setting My Face Like a Flint–Closing Out 2016 Strong
And the Lord Jehovah giveth help to me, Therefore I have not been ashamed, Therefore I have set my face as a flint, And I know that I am not ashamed. Isaiah 50:7 (Young’s Literal Translation)
I’m feeling both calm and anxious at this very moment. As I sit at my parents’ home, I am grateful that all is mostly quiet, except for the “whale” song playing in the background. It seems to calm and/or relax my dad. Although it creeped me out at first, I’ve grown used to it and find it strangely calming also.
As 2016 winds down, I could spend a lot of time and energy trying to figure out how I got into the present situation in which I find myself—living in the basement of a friend of my sister-in-law after selling my condo to help get out from under significant debt. It certainly isn’t where I want or imagined I would be as 2016 comes to a close—but I would much rather spend my time and energy now imagining next steps to get me to where it is I intend to be: living in great abundance, happiness, and health, surrounded by a loving, supportive and ambitious tribe of people who don’t just think but live outside the box. In fact, for us there is no box.
I listened yesterday to an interesting podcast from motivational guru Tony Robbins where he focused on the three keys to a breakthrough:
I could easily, I suppose, as many people I know are doing call 2016 a bust as year’s go, but it isn’t over yet. Instead I’ve decided to play this year out until the end believing that anything is possible. Things could totally turnaround overnight. In fact, I’m counting on it. I've experienced some of my best, most miraculous moments under pressure—when all seemed hopeless. I simply have to move beyond the fear and the doubt that’s been plaguing me for several months. I intend to move beyond it, whatever it takes.
There is and will always be a warrior within who doesn’t give up, doesn’t quit, doesn’t take down. There is a warrior within who knows with every aspect of her being that the challenges of life are not overcome necessarily by the strongest, or the swiftest, or the smartest, or the most well-connected, but by the ones who endure always to the end. Or, as Tony Robbins might say “the ones most hungry to win.”
I am hungry, voracious might be the better word, and decidedly determined to end 2016 on a high note. I am also determined to trust myself and know that all the answers and solutions I need right now are already within.
“I have set my face like a flint….,” said the prophet Isaiah, and so say I. I looked it up. Flint is an extremely hard stone, a variety of quartz, often used to strike fires. The beauty in taking full responsibility for your life—the good and the not-so-great—is knowing that the same creative power you used to burn it to the ground can be used to rebuild it better than ever.
I will do whatever I need to in order to be who I want to be, have what I want to have, and do what I want to do, beginning with changing my state—my thoughts and feelings—and my story. “Once upon a time there was a woman who used to be… , but now is …”
Mindset is everything.
I’m feeling both calm and anxious at this very moment. As I sit at my parents’ home, I am grateful that all is mostly quiet, except for the “whale” song playing in the background. It seems to calm and/or relax my dad. Although it creeped me out at first, I’ve grown used to it and find it strangely calming also.
As 2016 winds down, I could spend a lot of time and energy trying to figure out how I got into the present situation in which I find myself—living in the basement of a friend of my sister-in-law after selling my condo to help get out from under significant debt. It certainly isn’t where I want or imagined I would be as 2016 comes to a close—but I would much rather spend my time and energy now imagining next steps to get me to where it is I intend to be: living in great abundance, happiness, and health, surrounded by a loving, supportive and ambitious tribe of people who don’t just think but live outside the box. In fact, for us there is no box.
I listened yesterday to an interesting podcast from motivational guru Tony Robbins where he focused on the three keys to a breakthrough:
- State. Your thoughts and feelings.
- Story. What you say about yourself. For most of us, it's the BS excuses we have for living mediocre lives.
- Strategy. The steps you take to get you to specific outcomes.
I could easily, I suppose, as many people I know are doing call 2016 a bust as year’s go, but it isn’t over yet. Instead I’ve decided to play this year out until the end believing that anything is possible. Things could totally turnaround overnight. In fact, I’m counting on it. I've experienced some of my best, most miraculous moments under pressure—when all seemed hopeless. I simply have to move beyond the fear and the doubt that’s been plaguing me for several months. I intend to move beyond it, whatever it takes.
There is and will always be a warrior within who doesn’t give up, doesn’t quit, doesn’t take down. There is a warrior within who knows with every aspect of her being that the challenges of life are not overcome necessarily by the strongest, or the swiftest, or the smartest, or the most well-connected, but by the ones who endure always to the end. Or, as Tony Robbins might say “the ones most hungry to win.”
I am hungry, voracious might be the better word, and decidedly determined to end 2016 on a high note. I am also determined to trust myself and know that all the answers and solutions I need right now are already within.
“I have set my face like a flint….,” said the prophet Isaiah, and so say I. I looked it up. Flint is an extremely hard stone, a variety of quartz, often used to strike fires. The beauty in taking full responsibility for your life—the good and the not-so-great—is knowing that the same creative power you used to burn it to the ground can be used to rebuild it better than ever.
I will do whatever I need to in order to be who I want to be, have what I want to have, and do what I want to do, beginning with changing my state—my thoughts and feelings—and my story. “Once upon a time there was a woman who used to be… , but now is …”
Mindset is everything.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Two Days Before Thanksgiving
It’s two days before Thanksgiving, that time of year where we’re reminded to count the many blessings that we’ve received throughout the year, even our lifetime. I’m feeling a bit like an emotional wreck, yet I persevere.
It has felt like a tough few days of taking care of my parents and packing to move out of my home of 20 years. And today, I attended the funeral service of my sister-in-law’s brother. He wasn’t much older than me, which I hadn’t realized, although I’ve known him since I was about 9 or 10 years old. I always liked him a lot. He was genuinely kind and generous, and rather funny. He seemed to enjoy taking care of people. I learned today he was a Virgo, so that makes sense.
My sister-in-law and he were deeply devoted to each other. In fact, she spent the last few weeks of his life driving about 30 miles back and forth to his home to help care for him and was at his side when he died.
Sitting in the very large and elaborately decorated sanctuary of the Catholic church where his services were held this morning, I was reminded of how quickly our reality can change, sometimes in ways we don’t want. It was just a few months ago, my sister-in-law was sharing with me her brother’s excitement about meeting Pope Francis this year when he visited the city and the church where he worked. With only 38 days remaining in this year, I spent my morning sitting in the same church with her brother's family, co-workers, and friends celebrating his life and saying our final “good-byes.”
I was not only struck by the beauty and elegance of the church with its high cathedral ceilings and stained glass, statues and pictures of Jesus and the saints everywhere—as a graduate of Catholic high school and having a great appreciation for Renaissance art, I’m always impressed by the architecture and décor of Catholic churches—I was also struck by the majesty and beauty of the funeral mass, and the warm, loving, and encouraging words spoken by the priest who knew him well. He spoke of his great love for his family and friends and of his commitment to serving the parishioners of his church, always with a smile. He told of how her brother always went out of his way to encourage and help someone because he believed in uplifting people.
As I looked at my sister-in-law, I could see and feel the sorrow in her heart. I wanted to do something for her, but what is there really to do or say at such a moment? Today, she was burying her brother whom she loved deeply and had cared for and he had cared for her. They expected to grow old together, to share many more laughs at cookouts and family dinners, and have more time to talk trash to each other while playing cards. What could one possibly say or do other than be present? There really are no words that provide comfort. No words that stop the "why's," "what if's," and "if only's" from flooding your mind. Having twice experienced a similar loss—the deaths of both my youngest and oldest brother—I could say that I understand her grief, but it isn't true, not really. Feelings of grief and sorrow are very personal. Yet remembering what I felt when my brothers died, my heart felt broken for my sister-in-law going through it now.
My heart felt broken also for his wife who was willing to do whatever it took, pay any amount of money, to spend another Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and all the days in between and thereafter with the man she loved. I can relate to this, yet cannot claim to understand her grief either. I do know that feeling of being willing to do whatever it takes, pay whatever it costs to be with the one you love. Love can be that powerful you want it to last forever, or as long as you can make it last, and are willing to sacrifice all for it, if necessary.
Seated with my sister and grand-niece, my mind wandered to the last time I was in a church with my sister-in-law for a funeral service. Eleven years ago, we sat in a different church to say “good-bye” to her son, my nephew. My grand-niece now seated next to me was seated next to her then to say “good-bye” to a father she had barely had the opportunity to know. More heartbreak that no words could ease. Only time, perhaps, and the joy of caring for the now nearly adult daughter he gifted her with.
It's two days before Thanksgiving, and I know there’s much for me to be grateful for. I know this. In spite of how I'm feeling right now and all the challenges I’ve faced this year—the setbacks and disappointments—I am alive and, at least until the end of the month, have a roof over my head and a comfortable, warm bed to sleep in. I have a family who loves me and helpful neighbors. I’m able to hear and see and walk without assistance. I have money in the bank, clothes, food, and my funky purple laptop to post my thoughts to this blog. Tomorrow I’m going to spend part of my day packing and part of my day with my grand-niece and grand-nephew, both of whom are home from their respective colleges. I am grateful to be able to do that.
I am also grateful for the courage, humor, and hope that my sister-in-law’s brother showed me is possible, during even the most dire and frightening of circumstances. No one may ever know or understand why he succumbed to the disease that he’d been fighting so hard for several months to overcome, but fight he did for his life, for his sake and the sake of those he loved. I believe he had much he was grateful for and wanted to live for—his family, his friends, his work/calling—and more dreams yet to fulfill, more lives to impact. He fought as best he could for another day, and another, and another to be with those he loved and see more of his dreams realized. We who still live should do likewise.
"Don't count the days; make the days count." - Muhammad Ali
It has felt like a tough few days of taking care of my parents and packing to move out of my home of 20 years. And today, I attended the funeral service of my sister-in-law’s brother. He wasn’t much older than me, which I hadn’t realized, although I’ve known him since I was about 9 or 10 years old. I always liked him a lot. He was genuinely kind and generous, and rather funny. He seemed to enjoy taking care of people. I learned today he was a Virgo, so that makes sense.
My sister-in-law and he were deeply devoted to each other. In fact, she spent the last few weeks of his life driving about 30 miles back and forth to his home to help care for him and was at his side when he died.
Sitting in the very large and elaborately decorated sanctuary of the Catholic church where his services were held this morning, I was reminded of how quickly our reality can change, sometimes in ways we don’t want. It was just a few months ago, my sister-in-law was sharing with me her brother’s excitement about meeting Pope Francis this year when he visited the city and the church where he worked. With only 38 days remaining in this year, I spent my morning sitting in the same church with her brother's family, co-workers, and friends celebrating his life and saying our final “good-byes.”
I was not only struck by the beauty and elegance of the church with its high cathedral ceilings and stained glass, statues and pictures of Jesus and the saints everywhere—as a graduate of Catholic high school and having a great appreciation for Renaissance art, I’m always impressed by the architecture and décor of Catholic churches—I was also struck by the majesty and beauty of the funeral mass, and the warm, loving, and encouraging words spoken by the priest who knew him well. He spoke of his great love for his family and friends and of his commitment to serving the parishioners of his church, always with a smile. He told of how her brother always went out of his way to encourage and help someone because he believed in uplifting people.
As I looked at my sister-in-law, I could see and feel the sorrow in her heart. I wanted to do something for her, but what is there really to do or say at such a moment? Today, she was burying her brother whom she loved deeply and had cared for and he had cared for her. They expected to grow old together, to share many more laughs at cookouts and family dinners, and have more time to talk trash to each other while playing cards. What could one possibly say or do other than be present? There really are no words that provide comfort. No words that stop the "why's," "what if's," and "if only's" from flooding your mind. Having twice experienced a similar loss—the deaths of both my youngest and oldest brother—I could say that I understand her grief, but it isn't true, not really. Feelings of grief and sorrow are very personal. Yet remembering what I felt when my brothers died, my heart felt broken for my sister-in-law going through it now.
My heart felt broken also for his wife who was willing to do whatever it took, pay any amount of money, to spend another Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and all the days in between and thereafter with the man she loved. I can relate to this, yet cannot claim to understand her grief either. I do know that feeling of being willing to do whatever it takes, pay whatever it costs to be with the one you love. Love can be that powerful you want it to last forever, or as long as you can make it last, and are willing to sacrifice all for it, if necessary.
Seated with my sister and grand-niece, my mind wandered to the last time I was in a church with my sister-in-law for a funeral service. Eleven years ago, we sat in a different church to say “good-bye” to her son, my nephew. My grand-niece now seated next to me was seated next to her then to say “good-bye” to a father she had barely had the opportunity to know. More heartbreak that no words could ease. Only time, perhaps, and the joy of caring for the now nearly adult daughter he gifted her with.
It's two days before Thanksgiving, and I know there’s much for me to be grateful for. I know this. In spite of how I'm feeling right now and all the challenges I’ve faced this year—the setbacks and disappointments—I am alive and, at least until the end of the month, have a roof over my head and a comfortable, warm bed to sleep in. I have a family who loves me and helpful neighbors. I’m able to hear and see and walk without assistance. I have money in the bank, clothes, food, and my funky purple laptop to post my thoughts to this blog. Tomorrow I’m going to spend part of my day packing and part of my day with my grand-niece and grand-nephew, both of whom are home from their respective colleges. I am grateful to be able to do that.
I am also grateful for the courage, humor, and hope that my sister-in-law’s brother showed me is possible, during even the most dire and frightening of circumstances. No one may ever know or understand why he succumbed to the disease that he’d been fighting so hard for several months to overcome, but fight he did for his life, for his sake and the sake of those he loved. I believe he had much he was grateful for and wanted to live for—his family, his friends, his work/calling—and more dreams yet to fulfill, more lives to impact. He fought as best he could for another day, and another, and another to be with those he loved and see more of his dreams realized. We who still live should do likewise.
"Don't count the days; make the days count." - Muhammad Ali
Saturday, November 19, 2016
What Would Jesus Really Do?
“He Himself took our infirmities
And bore our sicknesses.” - Matthew 8:17
I am not your typical Christian, and I do still consider myself Christian although I haven’t been to church in more than three years. I am absolutely, I think, of the heretical variety at least according to the teachings you hear espoused in a many American churches today. I’m okay with that. If I am honest with myself and with others, what I am at my core is a seeker—a seeker of truth, a seeker of wisdom, a seeker of understanding.
Tonight, I write this from my parents’ home. They require 24/7 care, at least at this moment, and it’s my night to sit with them. My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s related dementia about three years ago. A few months ago, he fell while walking down the stairs in his home. In addition to a broken elbow, which has now healed, he’s has since demonstrated significant changes in cognitive function that no one in the medical profession has been able to clearly explain to us. My mother also shows signs of dementia related to a benign brain tumor that occasionally also causes seizures because of its position in the brain. Caring for them has proved to be both physically and emotionally exhausting for me and my siblings.
Some years ago, can’t recall how many, there was this huge, highly popular “What would Jesus do?” movement in churches across America, maybe even outside of America. The idea behind it was to encourage Christians to be more Christ-like by considering whether their actions and words were aligned with what Jesus would do or say, and then to act or speak, accordingly. How would Jesus treat the homeless person asking Him for money? How would he treat his colleagues at work? Would Jesus start or engage in an argument with his spouse or children? Would He curse the driver who just cut him off on the highway? Would He be caught throwing back a few beers at the local tavern with his buddies? I’m sure you’re starting to get the point of this exercise in mindfulness, except I think whoever started this movement and those who followed it may have missed the point of what Jesus actually came here to do.
As I sat in the chair by my father’s bed after giving him something to drink, I found myself asking the question: What would Jesus really do? What would Jesus do if He were here, right now in the flesh, in my parents’ home? What would he do after he entered their home and noticed my father in a hospital bed in what used to the be the dining room, uncertain of where he is, who I am, or even who he is? How would he respond to my father's difficulty to complete a single, coherent sentence? Would Jesus walk over and fluff my father’s bed pillows to make him more comfortable in his bed? Would he sit down quietly beside my father and hold his hand? Would he try to encourage him with words like: “The Father loves you and understands what you’re going through. It will all be alright; there’s a great reward waiting for you in heaven.”
What would Jesus do if he took a walk upstairs to my mother’s room where he would find her blurting out random words and phrases uncontrollably, or complaining that she can’t sit up to properly eat her food, or can't even swallow her food? Would he offer her some more water to quench her imaginary thirst? Would he, feeling compassion for her condition, attempt to reassure with words that everything is okay, after all the Father knows all her troubles?
Let’s assume that the stories in at least two of the Gospels are eye-witness accounts of actual events that occurred, what would Jesus do, really? Perhaps, he might do what he did when he entered Peter’s home and found his mother-in-law sick with fever. Upon entering my parents’ home, he’d walk toward my dad and gently place one hand on my father’s head and the other on his heart, and immediately my father’s body would be restored to a state of perfect health. And then, he and my father might share a quick meal together before heading upstairs to visit with my mother where Jesus would declare to her with firm, yet tender authority: “Woman, you are set free.” She, too, would immediately be restored to a state of perfect health and soundness of mind, and offer Jesus a drink of water.
I closed my eyes for just a moment to imagine this. I closed them again and remembered that Scripture says Jesus and I are one.
So, I set about doing what Jesus would do. Moments later, my father awakens and I ask if he’d like something to eat or drink. He responds coherently that he would like something to eat. Earlier in the day, he’d refused both lunch and dinner—such behavior is a common symptom of dementia, according to my father's doctors.
Does this mean that my father is healed? I am certainly encouraged. The way I figure it, I owe it my parents and myself to begin exercising the mustard seed faith Jesus spoke of and believe that like him I, too, can be a vessel of healing.
"And when Jesus went out He saw a great multitude; and He was moved with compassion for them, and healed their sick." - Matthew 14:14
I am not your typical Christian, and I do still consider myself Christian although I haven’t been to church in more than three years. I am absolutely, I think, of the heretical variety at least according to the teachings you hear espoused in a many American churches today. I’m okay with that. If I am honest with myself and with others, what I am at my core is a seeker—a seeker of truth, a seeker of wisdom, a seeker of understanding.
Tonight, I write this from my parents’ home. They require 24/7 care, at least at this moment, and it’s my night to sit with them. My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s related dementia about three years ago. A few months ago, he fell while walking down the stairs in his home. In addition to a broken elbow, which has now healed, he’s has since demonstrated significant changes in cognitive function that no one in the medical profession has been able to clearly explain to us. My mother also shows signs of dementia related to a benign brain tumor that occasionally also causes seizures because of its position in the brain. Caring for them has proved to be both physically and emotionally exhausting for me and my siblings.
Some years ago, can’t recall how many, there was this huge, highly popular “What would Jesus do?” movement in churches across America, maybe even outside of America. The idea behind it was to encourage Christians to be more Christ-like by considering whether their actions and words were aligned with what Jesus would do or say, and then to act or speak, accordingly. How would Jesus treat the homeless person asking Him for money? How would he treat his colleagues at work? Would Jesus start or engage in an argument with his spouse or children? Would He curse the driver who just cut him off on the highway? Would He be caught throwing back a few beers at the local tavern with his buddies? I’m sure you’re starting to get the point of this exercise in mindfulness, except I think whoever started this movement and those who followed it may have missed the point of what Jesus actually came here to do.
As I sat in the chair by my father’s bed after giving him something to drink, I found myself asking the question: What would Jesus really do? What would Jesus do if He were here, right now in the flesh, in my parents’ home? What would he do after he entered their home and noticed my father in a hospital bed in what used to the be the dining room, uncertain of where he is, who I am, or even who he is? How would he respond to my father's difficulty to complete a single, coherent sentence? Would Jesus walk over and fluff my father’s bed pillows to make him more comfortable in his bed? Would he sit down quietly beside my father and hold his hand? Would he try to encourage him with words like: “The Father loves you and understands what you’re going through. It will all be alright; there’s a great reward waiting for you in heaven.”
What would Jesus do if he took a walk upstairs to my mother’s room where he would find her blurting out random words and phrases uncontrollably, or complaining that she can’t sit up to properly eat her food, or can't even swallow her food? Would he offer her some more water to quench her imaginary thirst? Would he, feeling compassion for her condition, attempt to reassure with words that everything is okay, after all the Father knows all her troubles?
Let’s assume that the stories in at least two of the Gospels are eye-witness accounts of actual events that occurred, what would Jesus do, really? Perhaps, he might do what he did when he entered Peter’s home and found his mother-in-law sick with fever. Upon entering my parents’ home, he’d walk toward my dad and gently place one hand on my father’s head and the other on his heart, and immediately my father’s body would be restored to a state of perfect health. And then, he and my father might share a quick meal together before heading upstairs to visit with my mother where Jesus would declare to her with firm, yet tender authority: “Woman, you are set free.” She, too, would immediately be restored to a state of perfect health and soundness of mind, and offer Jesus a drink of water.
I closed my eyes for just a moment to imagine this. I closed them again and remembered that Scripture says Jesus and I are one.
So, I set about doing what Jesus would do. Moments later, my father awakens and I ask if he’d like something to eat or drink. He responds coherently that he would like something to eat. Earlier in the day, he’d refused both lunch and dinner—such behavior is a common symptom of dementia, according to my father's doctors.
Does this mean that my father is healed? I am certainly encouraged. The way I figure it, I owe it my parents and myself to begin exercising the mustard seed faith Jesus spoke of and believe that like him I, too, can be a vessel of healing.
"And when Jesus went out He saw a great multitude; and He was moved with compassion for them, and healed their sick." - Matthew 14:14
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Happy Birthday to Me!
Today's my birthday and to say that I woke up feeling a bit depressed would be a gross understatement. I honestly awoke this morning feeling near suicidal! Welcome to my world....
I was somewhere I didn't really want to be having spent the evening before, and the previous few days, fulfilling a responsibility I wish to high heaven I didn't have to for my sake and that of my parents. Sounds selfish, even feels selfish, but I felt trapped, like a caged bird—desperate to take flight, explore the world and the infinite space among the clouds if only I could get out of this cage. It was easier six years ago when this all began, helping to care for my parents, but their needs have changed and my life has suffered in ways I couldn't have even imagined.
Have you ever heard that saying that God doesn't put on us more than we can bear? Well, I say BS. This is too much!!
And so this morning I awoke, crying, which curiously is how I fell asleep. My brother called to wish me "Happy Birthday," and I struggled to hold back the tears as I thought of my current situation on all fronts—personally, financially, professionally, physically, and emotionally.
My niece sent me a birthday IM. I shared with her a little of my pain, which made me feel a bit better. Her words of encouragement even a little more.
After summoning the strength to finish getting dressed, I then set the intention to find some way to enjoy my special day, or rather, choose to experience joy. Moment by moment throughout the day, even as the tears still came and I let them, I determined to lay aside stressful, worried, anxious, and fearful thoughts and frustrations, if only for today. It wasn't easy. A phone call from my realtor with less than good news immediately triggered me, and I could hear the voices in my head condemning me for my latest disaster and screw up.
But it's my birthday. This is the one day I should be allowed to enjoy—the one day in which I experience wonderful things happening. The one day where everything in the cosmos align to show me love. The one day I'm free to celebrate me!
So, I enjoyed my free ice cream courtesy of Baskins Robbins. I enjoyed my free frappucino courtesy of Starbucks. I enjoyed a really nice Mediterranean salad and even had some popcorn—a rare treat. I was overwhelmed by the tons of lovely birthday wishes and blessings I received in the form of texts and Facebook posts!! I relaxed with a few good reads and slowly began to realize that I had not only stopped crying, but I was actually smiling and feeling happy.
It was then I decided that I have the right to experience joy every day and that today really is my birth day as I am choosing this day to mark the beginning of a new, exciting, happier, and more fulfilling life. I am fully committing to being who I choose to be, going after what I want, doing the things that I enjoy, and living life on my terms without apology. This bird is breaking free of her cage and all the limitations it's imposed.
I was somewhere I didn't really want to be having spent the evening before, and the previous few days, fulfilling a responsibility I wish to high heaven I didn't have to for my sake and that of my parents. Sounds selfish, even feels selfish, but I felt trapped, like a caged bird—desperate to take flight, explore the world and the infinite space among the clouds if only I could get out of this cage. It was easier six years ago when this all began, helping to care for my parents, but their needs have changed and my life has suffered in ways I couldn't have even imagined.
Have you ever heard that saying that God doesn't put on us more than we can bear? Well, I say BS. This is too much!!
My niece sent me a birthday IM. I shared with her a little of my pain, which made me feel a bit better. Her words of encouragement even a little more.
After summoning the strength to finish getting dressed, I then set the intention to find some way to enjoy my special day, or rather, choose to experience joy. Moment by moment throughout the day, even as the tears still came and I let them, I determined to lay aside stressful, worried, anxious, and fearful thoughts and frustrations, if only for today. It wasn't easy. A phone call from my realtor with less than good news immediately triggered me, and I could hear the voices in my head condemning me for my latest disaster and screw up.
But it's my birthday. This is the one day I should be allowed to enjoy—the one day in which I experience wonderful things happening. The one day where everything in the cosmos align to show me love. The one day I'm free to celebrate me!
So, I enjoyed my free ice cream courtesy of Baskins Robbins. I enjoyed my free frappucino courtesy of Starbucks. I enjoyed a really nice Mediterranean salad and even had some popcorn—a rare treat. I was overwhelmed by the tons of lovely birthday wishes and blessings I received in the form of texts and Facebook posts!! I relaxed with a few good reads and slowly began to realize that I had not only stopped crying, but I was actually smiling and feeling happy.
It was then I decided that I have the right to experience joy every day and that today really is my birth day as I am choosing this day to mark the beginning of a new, exciting, happier, and more fulfilling life. I am fully committing to being who I choose to be, going after what I want, doing the things that I enjoy, and living life on my terms without apology. This bird is breaking free of her cage and all the limitations it's imposed.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yourself Off, Start All Over Again
Nothing's impossible, I have found
For when my chin is on the ground.
I pick myself up,
Dust myself off
And start all over again.
Don't lose your confidence
If you slip
Be grateful for a pleasant trip
And pick yourself up,
Dust yourself off
And start all over again.
By Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields, ©1936
I'm a big fan of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie musicals—I'm pretty certain that I've watched all of them, multiple times since childhood. I could easily and quite happily spend hours watching a marathon of their musicals. Watching Fred and Ginger movies with my mom and older sister, along with seeing Mikhail Baryshnikov in the Nutcracker, is what ignited my love of dance. Often after watching their movies as a child, I would retreat to the basement of our home and try to mimic their routines. In fact, several years later after I began taking ballroom lessons (another story for another time), I had someone design/make a gown for me to look like my absolute favorite Ginger Rogers' gown, which she wore in Follow the Fleet.
It's no wonder then that today when I was feeling a bit discouraged about recent events in my life and that of my family that the song "Pick Yourself Up," which Rogers sings in Swing Time to an awkward dancing Astaire, should suddenly pop into my head. I had only moments earlier been practicing a dance variation in between care giving duties for my parents. Curiously, it was during my quiet time while I was reading about Neville Goddard's method for "revising" unpleasant or negative events to help pick up my mood when I heard the song. The song along with Neville's revision method, which he taught as a way to help prevent negative patterns from repeating in your life by changing the way you perceive events, did a lot to help me pick myself up from what could have been an all-day funk.
Believing as I do that our thoughts, emotions, and words have creative power, I certainly don't want to spend an entire day in a funk and risk repeating more of the same experiences that I'm not enjoying. I appreciated and needed the reminder that I have the power within myself to choose my thoughts, feelings, and focus in the moment to create better experiences and outcomes for myself going forward.
I've been learning to do this when practicing my dancing. Even the best dancers occasionally stumble or misstep. I've been trained that when I do stumble or misstep (or God forbid, fall), sometimes the very best thing to do is keep dancing through to the end of the variation or routine. My instructor and I will, of course, pause afterward to assess what happened—did I lose my frame, were my feet or hands not in the right position, did I lose my focus. We will then make the necessary corrections and start all over again. However, I've learned that if I remain fixated on the problem or whatever it was that caused the mistake, I'll keep repeating it—usually to the frustration of my instructor. The key to success in my starting over is to focus on dancing the variation correctly, actually seeing and feeling myself dancing correctly over and over again in my mind until suddenly (sometimes to my surprise), I discover I'm actually doing it.
And so it is, I'm learning, in life. In the face of challenges, obstacles, setbacks, and disappointments that knock you on your butt, you can choose to let fear, frustration, and misplaced focus keep your butt on the ground and your goals and heart's desires out of reach, or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.
Did you know?
Fred Astaire, considered an icon of old Hollywood Glamour and whose name is practically synonymous with dance, failed early in his career to attract any interest in Hollywood. Regarding his initial screen test, at least one studio executive wrote, "Can't sing. Can't act. Slightly balding. Can dance a little." (Source: Biography.com)
For when my chin is on the ground.
I pick myself up,
Dust myself off
And start all over again.
Don't lose your confidence
If you slip
Be grateful for a pleasant trip
And pick yourself up,
Dust yourself off
And start all over again.
By Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields, ©1936
I'm a big fan of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie musicals—I'm pretty certain that I've watched all of them, multiple times since childhood. I could easily and quite happily spend hours watching a marathon of their musicals. Watching Fred and Ginger movies with my mom and older sister, along with seeing Mikhail Baryshnikov in the Nutcracker, is what ignited my love of dance. Often after watching their movies as a child, I would retreat to the basement of our home and try to mimic their routines. In fact, several years later after I began taking ballroom lessons (another story for another time), I had someone design/make a gown for me to look like my absolute favorite Ginger Rogers' gown, which she wore in Follow the Fleet.
It's no wonder then that today when I was feeling a bit discouraged about recent events in my life and that of my family that the song "Pick Yourself Up," which Rogers sings in Swing Time to an awkward dancing Astaire, should suddenly pop into my head. I had only moments earlier been practicing a dance variation in between care giving duties for my parents. Curiously, it was during my quiet time while I was reading about Neville Goddard's method for "revising" unpleasant or negative events to help pick up my mood when I heard the song. The song along with Neville's revision method, which he taught as a way to help prevent negative patterns from repeating in your life by changing the way you perceive events, did a lot to help me pick myself up from what could have been an all-day funk.
Believing as I do that our thoughts, emotions, and words have creative power, I certainly don't want to spend an entire day in a funk and risk repeating more of the same experiences that I'm not enjoying. I appreciated and needed the reminder that I have the power within myself to choose my thoughts, feelings, and focus in the moment to create better experiences and outcomes for myself going forward.
I've been learning to do this when practicing my dancing. Even the best dancers occasionally stumble or misstep. I've been trained that when I do stumble or misstep (or God forbid, fall), sometimes the very best thing to do is keep dancing through to the end of the variation or routine. My instructor and I will, of course, pause afterward to assess what happened—did I lose my frame, were my feet or hands not in the right position, did I lose my focus. We will then make the necessary corrections and start all over again. However, I've learned that if I remain fixated on the problem or whatever it was that caused the mistake, I'll keep repeating it—usually to the frustration of my instructor. The key to success in my starting over is to focus on dancing the variation correctly, actually seeing and feeling myself dancing correctly over and over again in my mind until suddenly (sometimes to my surprise), I discover I'm actually doing it.
And so it is, I'm learning, in life. In the face of challenges, obstacles, setbacks, and disappointments that knock you on your butt, you can choose to let fear, frustration, and misplaced focus keep your butt on the ground and your goals and heart's desires out of reach, or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.
Did you know?
Fred Astaire, considered an icon of old Hollywood Glamour and whose name is practically synonymous with dance, failed early in his career to attract any interest in Hollywood. Regarding his initial screen test, at least one studio executive wrote, "Can't sing. Can't act. Slightly balding. Can dance a little." (Source: Biography.com)
Monday, August 1, 2016
How Neville Goddard Changed My Life
Let me begin my stating that I was going to call this post " An Ode to Neville Goddard," but that would have required me to actually write a poem, which I’m not in the mood to do. I did feel inspired today to pay tribute to this great teacher whom I’ve never met, yet consider a mentor—a very beloved mentor.
I discovered Neville Goddard’s teachings about four years ago while reading Wayne Dyer’s book, Wishes Fulfilled. Dyer makes several references to Neville Goddard and how his teachings helped to inform his philosophy of life. Intrigued by some of the quotes included in the book, I decided to learn more about Mr. Goddard and his teachings.
It didn't take very long as there was plenty of information readily available all over the Internet. He taught over 475 lectures and published 10 books beginning around the 1950s until his death in 1972. There are numerous websites devoted to sharing his teachings that were created by people who are/were influenced by him. He is in fact considered by many to be among the greatest New Thought leaders of his day, and even now.
Neville Goddard’s teachings have certainly for over four years informed my own transformation and my views about life and what is possible for me. Through his vast lectures, many of which can be heard on YouTube, I’ve come to understand a great deal about the powerful role my thoughts, imagination, and feelings have in shaping my circumstances. I have as a result learned to pay more attention to the thoughts I’m thinking, what I am feeling and what I am imagining at any given moment.
His teachings have helped me to create some pretty amazing experiences by shifting my thoughts, feelings and emotions away from what I’m not enjoying to what I would prefer. They have also helped me to release years of buried guilt and shame—emotions that will absolutely prevent you from living your best life. For better or worse, our thoughts create our feelings and beliefs, which determine our choices, which determine our actions, which determine our experiences. As Neville would put it: “Nothing comes from without; all things come from within.”
Among my favorite Neville quotes are the following:
The last one, which Wayne Dyer quotes specifically in Wishes Fulfilled, is one that I meditate on day and night and especially in those moments where I began to feel like life’s victim. It isn’t as some might conclude an invitation to ignore what is happening around me, like an ostrich with her head in the sand. It is an invitation to remain focused on my desired destination or outcome in spite of what I am seeing or experiencing. My current circumstances, problems, challenges may be real now, but reality isn’t static—it is constantly changing. Focusing on the problem only serves to keep me stuck in the problem, exactly where I don’t want to be. Maintaining laser-like focus on my aim will move me towards it.
I’ve read nearly all of Neville’s lectures, many of which you can access for free at realneville.com. (The PDFs only; the audios you'll need to buy.) In addition, I’ve purchased several of his books. Among them: Feeling is the Secret, Your Faith is Your Fortune, Power of Awareness, Awakened Imagination, Prayer: The Art of Believing, and At Your Command.
I recommend all of them with the caveat that you will 1) need to read through them multiple times to grasp the meaning of what he’s saying, yet it’s worth it, and 2) need to keep an open mind. If you think your way, or your parents’ way, or your pastor’s way of understanding scripture or the Bible is the only way it can be understood, or perhaps you aren’t Christian and not open to discussions of scripture, your mind will simply not allow you to glean from Neville’s work the valuable insight that he offers. It is my personal belief that his teachings can benefit anyone, regardless of religious affiliation or even if you don’t adhere to any.
Neville’s teachings offer the opportunity to stop playing victim and take responsibility for your life. If your life is a hot mess and you accept that you’re the one who created the mess, then that means you also have power to create something better and it doesn’t matter how the economy is doing, who gets elected president, or whether your boss is a jerk. Your “savior,” Neville would suggest, is within, not without. What could be more empowering than that?
Below are a couple of my favorite Neville Goddard videos. I sometimes listen to these as I’m going to sleep.
I discovered Neville Goddard’s teachings about four years ago while reading Wayne Dyer’s book, Wishes Fulfilled. Dyer makes several references to Neville Goddard and how his teachings helped to inform his philosophy of life. Intrigued by some of the quotes included in the book, I decided to learn more about Mr. Goddard and his teachings.
It didn't take very long as there was plenty of information readily available all over the Internet. He taught over 475 lectures and published 10 books beginning around the 1950s until his death in 1972. There are numerous websites devoted to sharing his teachings that were created by people who are/were influenced by him. He is in fact considered by many to be among the greatest New Thought leaders of his day, and even now.
Neville Goddard’s teachings have certainly for over four years informed my own transformation and my views about life and what is possible for me. Through his vast lectures, many of which can be heard on YouTube, I’ve come to understand a great deal about the powerful role my thoughts, imagination, and feelings have in shaping my circumstances. I have as a result learned to pay more attention to the thoughts I’m thinking, what I am feeling and what I am imagining at any given moment.
His teachings have helped me to create some pretty amazing experiences by shifting my thoughts, feelings and emotions away from what I’m not enjoying to what I would prefer. They have also helped me to release years of buried guilt and shame—emotions that will absolutely prevent you from living your best life. For better or worse, our thoughts create our feelings and beliefs, which determine our choices, which determine our actions, which determine our experiences. As Neville would put it: “Nothing comes from without; all things come from within.”
Among my favorite Neville quotes are the following:
“Man, if he is in control of his own imagination, is in control of the phenomena of his life. He is not the victim of circumstances; circumstances are the creatures of himself.”
"Do not compromise. Decide exactly what you want and assume you have it. If your world would change, determine what it would look like; then construct a scene which would imply you are there."
“Disregard appearances, conditions, in fact disregard all evidence of your senses that deny the fulfillment of your desire. Rest in the assumption that you already are what you want to be. For in that determined assumption, you and your infinite being are merged in creative unity. And with your infinite being (God) all things are possible.”
The last one, which Wayne Dyer quotes specifically in Wishes Fulfilled, is one that I meditate on day and night and especially in those moments where I began to feel like life’s victim. It isn’t as some might conclude an invitation to ignore what is happening around me, like an ostrich with her head in the sand. It is an invitation to remain focused on my desired destination or outcome in spite of what I am seeing or experiencing. My current circumstances, problems, challenges may be real now, but reality isn’t static—it is constantly changing. Focusing on the problem only serves to keep me stuck in the problem, exactly where I don’t want to be. Maintaining laser-like focus on my aim will move me towards it.
I’ve read nearly all of Neville’s lectures, many of which you can access for free at realneville.com. (The PDFs only; the audios you'll need to buy.) In addition, I’ve purchased several of his books. Among them: Feeling is the Secret, Your Faith is Your Fortune, Power of Awareness, Awakened Imagination, Prayer: The Art of Believing, and At Your Command.
I recommend all of them with the caveat that you will 1) need to read through them multiple times to grasp the meaning of what he’s saying, yet it’s worth it, and 2) need to keep an open mind. If you think your way, or your parents’ way, or your pastor’s way of understanding scripture or the Bible is the only way it can be understood, or perhaps you aren’t Christian and not open to discussions of scripture, your mind will simply not allow you to glean from Neville’s work the valuable insight that he offers. It is my personal belief that his teachings can benefit anyone, regardless of religious affiliation or even if you don’t adhere to any.
Neville’s teachings offer the opportunity to stop playing victim and take responsibility for your life. If your life is a hot mess and you accept that you’re the one who created the mess, then that means you also have power to create something better and it doesn’t matter how the economy is doing, who gets elected president, or whether your boss is a jerk. Your “savior,” Neville would suggest, is within, not without. What could be more empowering than that?
Below are a couple of my favorite Neville Goddard videos. I sometimes listen to these as I’m going to sleep.
Facts Have Over Flowed the World
How Abdullah Taught the Law
Neville discusses what he learned from his mentor Abdullah, an Ethiopian Jew, about the power of imagination.
Monday, July 25, 2016
I Came Face-to-face with Two Deer in Three Weeks—Coincidence?
In three weeks, I've come face-to-face with two deer. And I do mean face-to-face as in uncomfortably close enough to nearly reach out and touch them. (I didn't!)
The first incident occurred curiously on the 4th of July, Independence Day in the U.S. As I was walking to the Metro station from my parents' home, I saw what I thought at first was a very large dog. Stunned and uncertain what my next and safest step should be, I realized I was staring in the face of a deer! He/she seemed as stunned as me for a moment before returning to grazing on the leaves of a nearby tree branch in the park where we
encountered each other.
The second incident occurred today, exactly three weeks later. This time I was walking toward my home in a very suburban part of Maryland state and encountered another deer. Although there's a wooded area directly across from the building where I live (it's used to be someone's property for whom my street is now named), I've never seen a deer in my neighborhood. The nearest park is about a mile away.
Coincidence? Or a message from the Universe?
Seeker that I am, I needed to find out what these close encounters with deer might mean and decided to do some research on deer spirits.
Being of Native American ancestry on my mother's side, I've spent a significant amount of time throughout my life learning about their traditions and beliefs, wanting to know more about my great grandfather for whom I only have a name, but have heard many wonderful stories about.
According to Native American tradition, each individual is connected with one of nine different animals that will accompany each person through life, acting as guides. Different animal guides, also called spirit guides and/or power animals, come in and out of our lives depending on the direction that we are headed and the tasks that need to be completed along our journey, but there is usually one animal, your totem animal, that is with you for life.1 Sounds somewhat like the Christian concept of a guardian angel.
One expert suggests that the deer spirit is "a symbol of regeneration of life and heart energy." I like the sound of that! The deer spirit represents one's ability "to bring gentleness and grace in every aspect of your life, even in the most challenging moments. By inspiration from the deer’s qualities, you can achieve ambitious goals and tackle difficult situation smoothly with a touch of gentleness and grace." 2
Another shares that "when a deer totem shows up in your life, a new innocence and freshness is about to be awakened." This person adds that "the deer teaches us to use the power of gentleness to touch the hearts and minds of wounded beings who are in our lives." 3
Well, I would absolutely consider this moment of my life to be one of my most challenging. I would very much like to get through it all with gentleness and grace, although I've been feeling more ornery and frustrated, when not curled up in the fetal position crying. In fact, I've been feeling quite a bit like someone sinking in quicksand. Yet, the more I fight to keep from sinking, the deeper in it I get. And yes, I know I should just stop fighting as that is what I've always heard one should do when in quicksand because struggling to get free only pulls you in deeper. Still, gentle soul that I can be, I am also a warrior at heart.
But I am extremely open to the possibility of a new innocence and freshness—of recapturing my childlike innocence and belief in the impossible, or rather that all things are possible. I haven't been enjoying the hopeless, cynical, angry and resentful person that stares back at me from the mirror as I grapple with feelings of being unappreciated, unloved, unsupported, unsafe, and undeserving of anything good. Admittedly aspects of my nature—my shadow self, perhaps, emerging to be embraced and healed—I do not want these feelings/aspects to overtake the whole of me as they threaten to do some days, especially since I know I created my current situation with my thoughts, choices, and actions and these darker feelings will not help me to create something better.
The something better being once-and-for-all healing old trauma, past hurts and transforming my current experience into something beautiful and uplifting. And then with childlike faith and the gentle heart that I have always had—but sometimes tried to hide for fear of being thought weak—helping the other wounded in my life to find healing.
Thank you deer spirit. Thank you for the reminder to keep a determined, yet gentle spirit in the midst of all things.
1- http://www.legendsofamerica.com/na-totems.html
2- http://www.spiritanimal.info/deer-spirit-animal/
3- http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/deer.htm
 |
| My first face-to-face deer encounter, July 4, 2016 |
encountered each other.
The second incident occurred today, exactly three weeks later. This time I was walking toward my home in a very suburban part of Maryland state and encountered another deer. Although there's a wooded area directly across from the building where I live (it's used to be someone's property for whom my street is now named), I've never seen a deer in my neighborhood. The nearest park is about a mile away.
Coincidence? Or a message from the Universe?
Seeker that I am, I needed to find out what these close encounters with deer might mean and decided to do some research on deer spirits.
Being of Native American ancestry on my mother's side, I've spent a significant amount of time throughout my life learning about their traditions and beliefs, wanting to know more about my great grandfather for whom I only have a name, but have heard many wonderful stories about.
According to Native American tradition, each individual is connected with one of nine different animals that will accompany each person through life, acting as guides. Different animal guides, also called spirit guides and/or power animals, come in and out of our lives depending on the direction that we are headed and the tasks that need to be completed along our journey, but there is usually one animal, your totem animal, that is with you for life.1 Sounds somewhat like the Christian concept of a guardian angel.
One expert suggests that the deer spirit is "a symbol of regeneration of life and heart energy." I like the sound of that! The deer spirit represents one's ability "to bring gentleness and grace in every aspect of your life, even in the most challenging moments. By inspiration from the deer’s qualities, you can achieve ambitious goals and tackle difficult situation smoothly with a touch of gentleness and grace." 2
Another shares that "when a deer totem shows up in your life, a new innocence and freshness is about to be awakened." This person adds that "the deer teaches us to use the power of gentleness to touch the hearts and minds of wounded beings who are in our lives." 3
Well, I would absolutely consider this moment of my life to be one of my most challenging. I would very much like to get through it all with gentleness and grace, although I've been feeling more ornery and frustrated, when not curled up in the fetal position crying. In fact, I've been feeling quite a bit like someone sinking in quicksand. Yet, the more I fight to keep from sinking, the deeper in it I get. And yes, I know I should just stop fighting as that is what I've always heard one should do when in quicksand because struggling to get free only pulls you in deeper. Still, gentle soul that I can be, I am also a warrior at heart.
But I am extremely open to the possibility of a new innocence and freshness—of recapturing my childlike innocence and belief in the impossible, or rather that all things are possible. I haven't been enjoying the hopeless, cynical, angry and resentful person that stares back at me from the mirror as I grapple with feelings of being unappreciated, unloved, unsupported, unsafe, and undeserving of anything good. Admittedly aspects of my nature—my shadow self, perhaps, emerging to be embraced and healed—I do not want these feelings/aspects to overtake the whole of me as they threaten to do some days, especially since I know I created my current situation with my thoughts, choices, and actions and these darker feelings will not help me to create something better.
The something better being once-and-for-all healing old trauma, past hurts and transforming my current experience into something beautiful and uplifting. And then with childlike faith and the gentle heart that I have always had—but sometimes tried to hide for fear of being thought weak—helping the other wounded in my life to find healing.
Thank you deer spirit. Thank you for the reminder to keep a determined, yet gentle spirit in the midst of all things.
1- http://www.legendsofamerica.com/na-totems.html
2- http://www.spiritanimal.info/deer-spirit-animal/
3- http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/deer.htm
Friday, July 8, 2016
Touching the Face of God
 |
| gallerily.com |
I remember the sign-off featured images of airplanes soaring through the clouds, and a man’s voice that always sounded so soothing as he spoke of "dancing in the sky" and "touching the face of God." Sometimes the airplane images were replaced with images of eagles flying across the expanse of sky or an ocean. Ever so high, I recall watching them climb, wishing I could be, feel that free.
The past few months of life have been quite challenging for me dealing with personal, financial and family health issues. As I’ve mentioned a few times in my posts, I share caregiving duties for my parents with my siblings. I’ve been doing this since 2010 when my mom had her first seizure. Three years later, we were having to care for dad also. In the midst of all of this, I experienced my own health crisis and financial loss resulting from being fired from a job that I really enjoyed. Life really is grand, isn’t it? (No, I’m not being sarcastic, much!)
Yesterday I felt that I was near to reaching the breaking point. There was something I wanted, needed to accomplish, yet despite my best efforts I was getting it done--something my Virgo mind just can’t easily handle. As I began feeling the despair and discouragement, tears streaming down my face, I headed outside with my trusty journal in hand to help sort through my feelings. In nature is where I thrive. In nature is where I find peace.
Sitting on the back porch of my parents’ home, I started journaling, and then suddenly stopped to just look up at the sky. The great expanse of blue sky was filled with amazingly beautiful white and soft gray clouds. I felt calm and at peace as I stared off into the distance as far as I could see. I noticed a plane fly by and the usual birds. Breathtaking. I have a deep appreciation for art, and yet don’t believe there is any artist living or dead who could adequately capture the beauty of what I was seeing, experiencing looking up into that sky. It felt like I was seeing something painted made by the very hand of God, which brings me back to the TV sign-offs I mentioned at the beginning of my post.
I sat still for a while, staring into those clouds in front of me, above me, around me, trying to breathe myself into them, make myself one with all that surrounded me when I suddenly remembered the TV sign off from my childhood, the one with man’s voice talking about touching the face of God.
Information addict that I am I decided to search the Internet for that sign off, or the poem, as I was sure it was most likely a poem the man was reading. It was. The poem is High Flight, written by John Gillespie Magee Jr., a 19-year old aviator pilot. He wrote the poem just three months before he died during a training flight from the airfield near Scopwick. Portions of the poem are inscribed on the headstones of many aviators and astronauts buried in Arlington National Cemetery.*
I cried as I read the full poem and understood why the man’s words had so touched me at such a young age that many years later I’m still able to remember those images that flashed across my TV screen and even hear some of the words spoken. I had a rather vivid imagination as a child, still do, and would dream of doing and being pretty much anything. I was a ballerina, and a princess, a rock star, and a cowgirl (not the cheerleader variety). Once I dreamed about walking on the moon and even imagined I was one of the officers on Star Trek (don't ask), not understanding the whole TV isn't real thing. At least not then—no reality television, yet, thank goodness!
I was learning then as I’m still now learning that life offers infinite possibilities for us beyond what we are experiencing in the moment and beyond what we can imagine or dream, if only we could believe that it does. And just like Officer Magee, we, too, can touch the face of God.
Here's the poem for you to read, or you can experience it the way I did as a child.
High Flight
By John Gillespie Magee Jr.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, -- and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of -- Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew --
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
* Source: http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/
Friday, May 6, 2016
I Choose to Be Enough
I appreciate self-help books and advice. Because I’ve always tended to be very introspective, I find that I’m always examining my life, my attitudes, and my beliefs and whether they are in alignment with the type of person I want to be. I commit myself to continually learning and putting into practice ways to become my very best self. So, I appreciate information that offers insight to help you grow, evolve, and improve yourself with the goal of becoming the person you aspire to be. And that’s a good thing, right?
Perhaps. Unless it leads you down the path of believing that you are in essence a broken, damaged person in continual need of fixing and, hence, not worthy or able to enjoy a good life until you make things right. Energy flows where attention goes, so placing constant focus on fixing all of the stuff that you think, or someone is telling you, is wrong with you, can have the unintended consequence of perpetuating the very things that you think are “wrong” with you.
Curiously, this week as I was going through my meditations, I found myself feeling more than a little resentful, anxious, and downright annoyed wondering when would I get to the place where I have purged myself enough of all my negative characteristics, blocks and limiting beliefs to finally begin receiving all the good I desire. At the point where I was just about to throw up my hands and say "screw it," it suddenly occurred to me that what I needed to do was shift my focus.
I once heard someone describe grace as unmerited or unearned favor. It suggests that the things we consider blessings aren’t earned; they are freely given, quite simply because the giver—God, the universe, the angels, my higher self—wanted you and I to experience them. Grace is what causes the sun to shine on the just and unjust alike. The desires of my heart are mine for the taking!
So what would happen if in this moment I choose to believe that my worthiness or unworthiness doesn’t matter? What if I release myself from karma and give myself permission to have or experience whatever I want simply by choosing to do so? What if I decided that there is no dream or desire too grand for me? How would this change how I look at myself and the world? How would this change how I wake up in the morning? How would this change what I am willing to ask for and allow into my life?
What if my deservedness IS completely irrelevant, and all that is required for me to experience the desires of my heart is making the choice to receive them?
I choose to allow into my life all that I desire. I choose to live in divine health. I choose to have a fit and lean body. I choose to eat well and enjoy the cake, dammit! I choose to be playful, youthful, and full of energy. I choose to fully embrace my feminine energy. I choose to express my sensual self. I choose to be successful on my terms. I choose to be loved. I choose to be loving. I choose to have control over how I spend my time. I choose to pay my bills ahead of time. I choose to have an abundance of money flow into my life daily with ease and grace. I choose to drive a Mercedes SUV. I choose to live in luxury. I choose to be surrounded by beauty. I choose to be in joy daily. I choose to have fun. I choose to dance more, sing more, and laugh more. I choose to have clients who value my expertise and who are easy to work with. I choose to be with people who are joyful and who add to my joy.
I choose to be enough now to experience all of the good the universe has to offer.
Perhaps. Unless it leads you down the path of believing that you are in essence a broken, damaged person in continual need of fixing and, hence, not worthy or able to enjoy a good life until you make things right. Energy flows where attention goes, so placing constant focus on fixing all of the stuff that you think, or someone is telling you, is wrong with you, can have the unintended consequence of perpetuating the very things that you think are “wrong” with you.
Curiously, this week as I was going through my meditations, I found myself feeling more than a little resentful, anxious, and downright annoyed wondering when would I get to the place where I have purged myself enough of all my negative characteristics, blocks and limiting beliefs to finally begin receiving all the good I desire. At the point where I was just about to throw up my hands and say "screw it," it suddenly occurred to me that what I needed to do was shift my focus.
I once heard someone describe grace as unmerited or unearned favor. It suggests that the things we consider blessings aren’t earned; they are freely given, quite simply because the giver—God, the universe, the angels, my higher self—wanted you and I to experience them. Grace is what causes the sun to shine on the just and unjust alike. The desires of my heart are mine for the taking!
So what would happen if in this moment I choose to believe that my worthiness or unworthiness doesn’t matter? What if I release myself from karma and give myself permission to have or experience whatever I want simply by choosing to do so? What if I decided that there is no dream or desire too grand for me? How would this change how I look at myself and the world? How would this change how I wake up in the morning? How would this change what I am willing to ask for and allow into my life?
What if my deservedness IS completely irrelevant, and all that is required for me to experience the desires of my heart is making the choice to receive them?
I choose to allow into my life all that I desire. I choose to live in divine health. I choose to have a fit and lean body. I choose to eat well and enjoy the cake, dammit! I choose to be playful, youthful, and full of energy. I choose to fully embrace my feminine energy. I choose to express my sensual self. I choose to be successful on my terms. I choose to be loved. I choose to be loving. I choose to have control over how I spend my time. I choose to pay my bills ahead of time. I choose to have an abundance of money flow into my life daily with ease and grace. I choose to drive a Mercedes SUV. I choose to live in luxury. I choose to be surrounded by beauty. I choose to be in joy daily. I choose to have fun. I choose to dance more, sing more, and laugh more. I choose to have clients who value my expertise and who are easy to work with. I choose to be with people who are joyful and who add to my joy.
I choose to be enough now to experience all of the good the universe has to offer.
Monday, April 11, 2016
I Still Believe
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| Rainbow viewed from the window of the guest room in my parents' home. |
Not much older than Anne when I first read the book, I was at what people call that awkward age between childhood and adulthood during which you begin pushing your parents' buttons by challenging all you've been taught, on the road to figuring out who you are, or at least, who you want to be. I questioned everything at that age—still do—because I wanted to understand my life. Why was I here? Why were any of us here? Why did pain and suffering exist?
I recall going through a really dark period where I thought the world and most people in it were cruel, hateful, and just downright sadistic. (I suppose years of being teased and feeling as if you’re struggling to fit in will do that to a young girl.) I had read all about the horrors and indignities of the Holocaust, as well as the horrors and indignities suffered by the African slaves in America. Being black, I had experienced prejudice, although not nearly to the degree of my parents or even my older siblings. Learning about these events along with enduring the day-to-day annoyances of being teased—for being too tall, too short, too fat, too thin, too clumsy, etc., etc.—only fueled my belief that this earth was a cruel, heartless place to be. Even Sunday School lessons about a loving God who protects the meek and innocent rang empty to me as I wondered who protected the slaves or the victims of the Holocaust, or my little brother when he was sick with a brain tumor.
So fixated I was on all that was wrong with the world—wrong with my world—that I just really couldn’t see there was also beauty and goodness around me. Until I read Anne’s diary. She describes, in sometimes painful detail, her and her family's day-to-day experiences after they are forced into hiding in an attempt to escape the Nazi concentration camps.Some of her entries made me laugh—girl stuff that sounded like things I had written in my own diary. Many of the entries, knowing what became of Anne since my teacher gave away the end of the story, made me cry. One entry, infuriated me...
“In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.”Huh?! Did she forget about being forced to leave her home? Was she not aware that people were trying to kill her and her family and in the most horrific, unspeakable manner possible, simply for being Jewish? Was she okay with living in hiding because of people's cruelty and hatred? How could she write such a crazy thing?!
I didn’t realize it then, but that entry in Anne's journal would become/is forever etched on my heart. If Anne could see goodness in the midst of her experience, what was my excuse for not? So I started looking... for goodness.
From that moment on, I began to see goodness and beauty where before there was only darkness. A little at first, and then more, and still more. Then I began showing, or at least trying to show, others the goodness that I was seeing. And my life has been filled with joyful, once-in-a lifetime experiences that might have gone unnoticed, including friendships with some pretty amazing people from all over the world through whom I’ve learned that most people really are good at heart or want to be.
I've encountered a few challenges that threatened to send me back to seeing only darkness. And I am not indifferent to pain and suffering that occurs in the world. No one with a conscious is. Yet, it is Anne’s words I hear from deep within my spirit that restore my peace whenever I learn of some tragic event—a terrorist attack by pseudo-religious groups; a mass shooting; rape, torture or genocide committed or sanctioned by leaders of governments—or whenever I have experienced some personal trauma due to others' malevolence. For instance, the morning, 11 years ago, when I received news that my nephew whom I loved dearly had been murdered, or a few years later when I was carjacked.
“In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart.”And just as surely as the sun rises each morning, the universe proves that me and Anne are right to believe so. Following every news report of some act of violence or hatred somewhere, countless other stories emerge of heroism, random acts of kindness, and demonstrations of love and compassion.
I am still astonished by the outpouring of love, compassion and kindness I experienced in the aftermath of my own brushes with violence and hatefulness. People I didn’t know reached out to help me, and in the case of my nephew’s murder, to help my family, especially the daughter he left behind.
So, in spite of everything you may be hearing on the news about what a hot mess the world is in and how we’re on the verge of disaster, know this: it's only part of the story. Goodness, beauty, and kindness are all around you—just look.
Whatever you give your attention to, grows.
Want more proof? Here's another story that confirms there are still a lot of good people in the world and when things get bad, they will and do come forward.
Friday, March 11, 2016
So Let It Be Written
I wish that I could say today’s blog is self-inspired. It is not. It is inspired, again, by an email I received from Kat Laterzo, a woman who writes a business and self-development blog for the not-faint-of-heart.
Philosophers and poets, clergy and laity, political leaders and ordinary citizens have contemplated for generations the power of the written word: mightier than the sword it is. “We hold these truths to be self-evident…,” wrote Thomas Jefferson and a nation was born. “And the just shall live by faith…” wrote Martin Luther in his 95 Theses, left taped to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, and ignited a religious reformation.
I fully believe that “life and death” are in the power of our words. Spoken or written, words are not to be taken lightly. Knowing their power, I set an intention at the beginning of this year to use them more judiciously when spoken and written. Taped to my closet door, which is the first thing I see upon rising each morning, is the message “Don’t want it; don’t say it.” And yet, I have lately been a bit careless with my words some days—majorly careless on some others as if forgetting the warning that “every idle word spoken” will be made manifest.
I've been writing in journals for years now. Some are plain, some are really fancy notebooks filled with notes about how wonderful my life is and how grateful I am for my loving family and friends along with the sun, the moon, the rain, the snow, birds, trees...(Did you notice the solar eclipse this evening? What an amazing sight!) I'm certain that's why I've attracted so many wonderful experiences into my life. I'm also certain my occasional carelessly spoken and written words are, at least partly, responsible for some of the less than pleasing experiences.
Nevertheless, I believe that I can overcome the effect of words spoken out of anger, frustration, fear, anxiety, or sheer carelessness with loving, healing, life affirming ones. I remain committed to using my power in the best way possible to create a life filled with abundant health, joy, peace, love, wealth, laughter, and every other good thing I can imagine.
You want it? Write it, speak it, chant it, sing it. Let your every thought, word, and feeling empower you and propel you toward your dreams. Write your vision. Put it where you can see it, and speak it aloud daily until it’s imprinted in your heart and drives every action you take, every decision you make. Ignite your own personal reformation. I’m off to write my vision now.
Namaste
Remember to reach for the moon. Even if you don't get there, you'll still be among the stars!
“So if you want CHANGE?"I know, I know," I thought as I read the message. I know how powerful words are. I believe they have power to heal or to wound; to create or to destroy. I have been healed by and have healed others with them. I have been wounded by and wounded others with them.
Big f'ing positive change, change that makes your head spin and leaves you BREATHLESS with how awesome your life IS?
Write that s#*t down. Again. And again. And again. And again.
Until you believe it.
Until you are living it.
Until you ARE it, and it is you.”
Philosophers and poets, clergy and laity, political leaders and ordinary citizens have contemplated for generations the power of the written word: mightier than the sword it is. “We hold these truths to be self-evident…,” wrote Thomas Jefferson and a nation was born. “And the just shall live by faith…” wrote Martin Luther in his 95 Theses, left taped to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, and ignited a religious reformation.
I fully believe that “life and death” are in the power of our words. Spoken or written, words are not to be taken lightly. Knowing their power, I set an intention at the beginning of this year to use them more judiciously when spoken and written. Taped to my closet door, which is the first thing I see upon rising each morning, is the message “Don’t want it; don’t say it.” And yet, I have lately been a bit careless with my words some days—majorly careless on some others as if forgetting the warning that “every idle word spoken” will be made manifest.
I've been writing in journals for years now. Some are plain, some are really fancy notebooks filled with notes about how wonderful my life is and how grateful I am for my loving family and friends along with the sun, the moon, the rain, the snow, birds, trees...(Did you notice the solar eclipse this evening? What an amazing sight!) I'm certain that's why I've attracted so many wonderful experiences into my life. I'm also certain my occasional carelessly spoken and written words are, at least partly, responsible for some of the less than pleasing experiences.
Nevertheless, I believe that I can overcome the effect of words spoken out of anger, frustration, fear, anxiety, or sheer carelessness with loving, healing, life affirming ones. I remain committed to using my power in the best way possible to create a life filled with abundant health, joy, peace, love, wealth, laughter, and every other good thing I can imagine.
You want it? Write it, speak it, chant it, sing it. Let your every thought, word, and feeling empower you and propel you toward your dreams. Write your vision. Put it where you can see it, and speak it aloud daily until it’s imprinted in your heart and drives every action you take, every decision you make. Ignite your own personal reformation. I’m off to write my vision now.
Namaste
Remember to reach for the moon. Even if you don't get there, you'll still be among the stars!
Monday, February 8, 2016
I Was Born for Greatness; So Were You
This blog is an interesting one for me to write. Tooting my own horn, so to speak, is not something I’m accustomed to, or comfortable, doing. Yet here I sit at my computer inspired to do exactly that today. As one of my mentor’s once told me: “If anyone is going to think you’re great, it might as well be you.”
Earlier I received an email from a woman named Kat Loterzo who helps other women realize the power within themselves to live the lives they dream about, whatever those dreams may be. In her email she writes: You KNOW you were born for more. And, she’s absolutely right. She is absolutely freakin' right! I know it. I’ve always known it. (At least part of me has always known it.)
I am realizing it’s that seed of greatness in me that causes me to become disquieted, agitated, and sometimes outright angry when I’m playing it small and trying to fit in—trying to live by other people’s expectations, rules and the limits they place on themselves, and indirectly me. After all, among the many things we have in common as humans is our deep desire/need to be loved and accepted and at some point in our life—likely between birth and age 7—we learned that love and acceptance is conditional upon our being like others and doing what we’re told or what is expected. So we do. Yet the seed to be more remains.
It’s that seed of greatness that causes me to want to scream out loud like a woman trapped in a small, cramped space, for seemingly no reason. It’s my spirit trying to get my attention. On the surface, all may appear to be going well by societal standards, yet she wants me to know that she’s feeling confined, claustrophobic—that she longs to do more, be more, have more, experience more. She wants to be released to live the life she dreams about. She wants to experience in reality what she’s experiencing in her imagination. She wants to experience financial freedom; nurturing, loving, empowering relationships; a strong, healthy body; a life filled with passion and purpose; control over how she spends her time; a home along the water; freedom to choose her destiny; and more, so much more. And she can. The only one really stopping her is... ME.
I was born for more. I was born for greatness; all of us were. We were born to solve a problem that only we can solve, to have an impact on the world that only we can. Each one of us has the capacity within to be geniuses, great leaders, great artists, healers, or world transformers. It is why so many of us are disquieted with our jobs, our relationships, our homes, our governments, our lives. It’s why many of us experience stress, depression, and other health issues. Our spirits are trying to get our attention. We look for a savior outside of ourselves, but that savior is already within. Our spirits know that we are infinite beings capable of achieving far more than we've allowed ourselves to imagine. Our spirits are trying to tell us: “You were born for more.”
So, I'm going for the more, and I encourage you to do the same. Allow yourself to be all that you are capable of being and doing all that you are capable of doing, no matter what anyone else thinks. Silence the fearful child within by letting him or her know it’s okay to be fully you. Whatever it is you’re desiring, whatever it is you’ve been dreaming, go after it—one step, one day at a time. Become obsessed by it and dare to step into your greatness. If not now, then when?
"If you don't go after what you want, you'll never have it. If you don't ask, the answer is always no. If you don't step forward, you're always in the same place." - Nora Roberts
"...if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours..." - Henry D. Thoreau
Earlier I received an email from a woman named Kat Loterzo who helps other women realize the power within themselves to live the lives they dream about, whatever those dreams may be. In her email she writes: You KNOW you were born for more. And, she’s absolutely right. She is absolutely freakin' right! I know it. I’ve always known it. (At least part of me has always known it.)
I am realizing it’s that seed of greatness in me that causes me to become disquieted, agitated, and sometimes outright angry when I’m playing it small and trying to fit in—trying to live by other people’s expectations, rules and the limits they place on themselves, and indirectly me. After all, among the many things we have in common as humans is our deep desire/need to be loved and accepted and at some point in our life—likely between birth and age 7—we learned that love and acceptance is conditional upon our being like others and doing what we’re told or what is expected. So we do. Yet the seed to be more remains.
It’s that seed of greatness that causes me to want to scream out loud like a woman trapped in a small, cramped space, for seemingly no reason. It’s my spirit trying to get my attention. On the surface, all may appear to be going well by societal standards, yet she wants me to know that she’s feeling confined, claustrophobic—that she longs to do more, be more, have more, experience more. She wants to be released to live the life she dreams about. She wants to experience in reality what she’s experiencing in her imagination. She wants to experience financial freedom; nurturing, loving, empowering relationships; a strong, healthy body; a life filled with passion and purpose; control over how she spends her time; a home along the water; freedom to choose her destiny; and more, so much more. And she can. The only one really stopping her is... ME.
I was born for more. I was born for greatness; all of us were. We were born to solve a problem that only we can solve, to have an impact on the world that only we can. Each one of us has the capacity within to be geniuses, great leaders, great artists, healers, or world transformers. It is why so many of us are disquieted with our jobs, our relationships, our homes, our governments, our lives. It’s why many of us experience stress, depression, and other health issues. Our spirits are trying to get our attention. We look for a savior outside of ourselves, but that savior is already within. Our spirits know that we are infinite beings capable of achieving far more than we've allowed ourselves to imagine. Our spirits are trying to tell us: “You were born for more.”
So, I'm going for the more, and I encourage you to do the same. Allow yourself to be all that you are capable of being and doing all that you are capable of doing, no matter what anyone else thinks. Silence the fearful child within by letting him or her know it’s okay to be fully you. Whatever it is you’re desiring, whatever it is you’ve been dreaming, go after it—one step, one day at a time. Become obsessed by it and dare to step into your greatness. If not now, then when?
"If you don't go after what you want, you'll never have it. If you don't ask, the answer is always no. If you don't step forward, you're always in the same place." - Nora Roberts
"...if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours..." - Henry D. Thoreau
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
What Do You Know?
Here's a thought for you to ponder that may also mess with your mind for a day, or two, or ten....
I only know that I do not really know anything. And since I do not really know anything, I am free to choose what it is I know.
Just think about it.
I only know that I do not really know anything. And since I do not really know anything, I am free to choose what it is I know.
Just think about it.
Monday, January 25, 2016
Don't Worry, Be Happy
Because some days you just have to choose to be happy! If you're having one of those days, here's something that will help to put a smile on your face and one in your heart where it counts most.
Courtesy of Bobby McFerrin: Don't Worry, Be Happy!
Dance like nobody's watching. Love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening. Live like it's heaven on earth.
Courtesy of Bobby McFerrin: Don't Worry, Be Happy!
Dance like nobody's watching. Love like you've never been hurt. Sing like nobody's listening. Live like it's heaven on earth.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Edgy? Moi?!
I took a personality test today. Someone sent it to me via email and since there wasn't much else for me to do given there's about a foot plus of snow on the ground outside and no buses are running, I figured why not. (Then again, snow angels are always fun!)
I find personality assessments to be useful tools for understanding my psyche. I am careful to not let them limit me in any way, yet I appreciate any tool that can help me grow and become more of who I want to become. I have found that personality tests offer helpful guidance along those lines. I've used them to gain insight about how I make decisions or process information. I've also used them to help me assess the types of learning or work environments I'm best suited for, or even the best career options. I remember taking one such test about two years ago—required for my job—that provided insight into how I work as part of team. One aspect of my character it aptly identified is that I don't tolerate fools well. Needless to say, I'm no longer at that job!
Anyhoo... today's test was a bit more fun. It identified your five dominant personality traits—the ones that stand out to others when they get to know you. After answering about 20 questions, here are mine:
Edgy, experimental, open-minded, artistic, and intuitive.
Edgy? What a curious word to describe me. I had to look it up. One definition reads: tense, nervous, irritable. Another reads: at the forefront of a trend; experimental or avant-garde.
According to the Free Dictionary, edgy can also mean: Having a sharp or biting edge: an edgy wit; or daring, provocative, and trend-setting.
The Urban Dictionary defines edgy as the act of thinking that one is cool. And among the many synonyms I found for edgy were these: cutting-edge, on-the-edge, fringe, avant-garde, innovative, original, offbeat; gritty.
Edgy? Well, if by edgy, this assessment means cool, cutting-edge, avant-garde, trend-setting, or just plain original, I'm totally okay with being that. In fact, I intend to fully embrace and explore my edginess. Why the heck not? After all, it's the cutting-edge people who have dared to create their own style and their own rules, who have had the biggest impact on the world.
I find personality assessments to be useful tools for understanding my psyche. I am careful to not let them limit me in any way, yet I appreciate any tool that can help me grow and become more of who I want to become. I have found that personality tests offer helpful guidance along those lines. I've used them to gain insight about how I make decisions or process information. I've also used them to help me assess the types of learning or work environments I'm best suited for, or even the best career options. I remember taking one such test about two years ago—required for my job—that provided insight into how I work as part of team. One aspect of my character it aptly identified is that I don't tolerate fools well. Needless to say, I'm no longer at that job!
Anyhoo... today's test was a bit more fun. It identified your five dominant personality traits—the ones that stand out to others when they get to know you. After answering about 20 questions, here are mine:
Edgy, experimental, open-minded, artistic, and intuitive.
Edgy? What a curious word to describe me. I had to look it up. One definition reads: tense, nervous, irritable. Another reads: at the forefront of a trend; experimental or avant-garde.
According to the Free Dictionary, edgy can also mean: Having a sharp or biting edge: an edgy wit; or daring, provocative, and trend-setting.
The Urban Dictionary defines edgy as the act of thinking that one is cool. And among the many synonyms I found for edgy were these: cutting-edge, on-the-edge, fringe, avant-garde, innovative, original, offbeat; gritty.
Edgy? Well, if by edgy, this assessment means cool, cutting-edge, avant-garde, trend-setting, or just plain original, I'm totally okay with being that. In fact, I intend to fully embrace and explore my edginess. Why the heck not? After all, it's the cutting-edge people who have dared to create their own style and their own rules, who have had the biggest impact on the world.
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
I Declare—2016 My Year of Abundance
to declare (v) - say something in a solemn and emphatic manner; acknowledge possession of; to make known or state clearly, especially in explicit or formal terms; to manifest, reveal, show; to proclaim.
It's 13 days into 2016, and while I set a clear intention on day one about the type of year I desired to experience, I think I need to shake things up a bit by openly declaring what I would like to transpire this year. To quote Joel Osteen: "You've got to send your words out in the direction you want your life to go."
So, I am sending my words forth into cyberspace and the universe:
I emphatically declare that this year, 2016, is my year of abundance! I will live the promise of an abundant life in every possible area. I aim to experience abundant joy, abundant peace, abundant love, abundant laughter, abundant health, and abundant wealth! I will take inspired action in the direction of my dreams, seek wise counsel, express gratitude daily, and be amazed at how heaven moves on my behalf. This year will be my best ever.
And yours too. Just declare it, and watch all of heaven move to make it so!
"...when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." - From The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
It's 13 days into 2016, and while I set a clear intention on day one about the type of year I desired to experience, I think I need to shake things up a bit by openly declaring what I would like to transpire this year. To quote Joel Osteen: "You've got to send your words out in the direction you want your life to go."
So, I am sending my words forth into cyberspace and the universe:
I emphatically declare that this year, 2016, is my year of abundance! I will live the promise of an abundant life in every possible area. I aim to experience abundant joy, abundant peace, abundant love, abundant laughter, abundant health, and abundant wealth! I will take inspired action in the direction of my dreams, seek wise counsel, express gratitude daily, and be amazed at how heaven moves on my behalf. This year will be my best ever.
And yours too. Just declare it, and watch all of heaven move to make it so!
"...when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." - From The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Don't Quit
I love synchronicities. They feel like signs from God/the Universe that are saying "Hey, I'm listening to the very thoughts of your heart."
In case you're not familiar with the term, synchronicity is a concept first coined by psychiatrist Carl Jung to describe events that seem meaningfully related yet have no causal relationship. For example, you're thinking of a song you haven't heard in eons, and moments later when you jump in the car and turn on your radio, that exact song is playing.
Well, just yesterday I was thinking about the poem "Don't Quit," which I read for the first time about 15 years ago. I was actually going to search for it to post on my blog, but then became distracted by other things I needed to do.
Today I'm reading an online article about some new scientific breakthrough that promises to change lives, and in the related posts section at the very end of the article there's a link to the "Don't Quit" poem. How very cool. Especially, since I'm not all certain how it ranked as being related to the article I was reading. Even cooler... I click on the link and it takes me to a beautifully produced video featuring the poem. Every image and the music seem to perfectly represent the poet's intent.
So, if by chance 2016 isn't starting off quite as you had hoped, or maybe you just need a little extra push to keep those resolutions, watch this video and be inspired. Keep tissue handy.
In case you're not familiar with the term, synchronicity is a concept first coined by psychiatrist Carl Jung to describe events that seem meaningfully related yet have no causal relationship. For example, you're thinking of a song you haven't heard in eons, and moments later when you jump in the car and turn on your radio, that exact song is playing.
Well, just yesterday I was thinking about the poem "Don't Quit," which I read for the first time about 15 years ago. I was actually going to search for it to post on my blog, but then became distracted by other things I needed to do.
Today I'm reading an online article about some new scientific breakthrough that promises to change lives, and in the related posts section at the very end of the article there's a link to the "Don't Quit" poem. How very cool. Especially, since I'm not all certain how it ranked as being related to the article I was reading. Even cooler... I click on the link and it takes me to a beautifully produced video featuring the poem. Every image and the music seem to perfectly represent the poet's intent.
So, if by chance 2016 isn't starting off quite as you had hoped, or maybe you just need a little extra push to keep those resolutions, watch this video and be inspired. Keep tissue handy.
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