Imagine if we could plot our lives like we plot our road trips, our commute to work, our drive home with a stop at the grocery store/bank/post office.
Well, you know what? I think we do. I think we do, and I think we're a danger to ourselves and others because we don't realize we're doing it. We don't realize (or remember) that every thought we have, every intention, every conversation we hold with ourselves is drawing a line on the map, and it's a map we're following faithfully, whether we know it or not.
Here we are, one eye glued to the route, and one turned stubbornly inward with nothing left to watch where we're going, to look at the scenery, to see what we're missing--or avoiding. We have no idea where the trip-enhancing turn-offs are (WORLD'S BIGGEST BALL OF STRING HERE!), no idea where the breathtaking scenic overlook is because we miss every sign. Or almost every sign. Enough, anyway, to realize how rarely we look up, how rarely we stop, how rarely we rest our gaze on the...
Maybe we carry these things--crystals, amulets, lucky socks--not because we believe in the power of the object alone, but because we believe we're stronger with them. Amplified. And maybe we are--maybe belief is that simple, and if it takes an object to carry such an amorphous concept as belief, what's the harm? It's when we infuse too many objects with too much power that we become burdened, weighed down.
Whatever gets you heard and gives you strength in this walk is an amulet worth carrying.
Never apologize for what you love, for what you return to time and time again, for your patterns, the habits that make you feel safe. Take all the comfort you need in this world and, when that habit, when that pattern stops serving you? Then you'll release it. You'll have help. The universe moves in its own time, but always, I have to believe, for our highest good.
All we need is enough trust to get out of our own way in the meantime.
Finding abundance isn't so much about redefining values, although that's certainly part of it, but cultivating a different way of seeing the world. We can welcome and celebrate abundance in one area while we work and wait for it to arrive in another. In fact, that seems like a good strategy to me--a way of moving through the world that makes it seem more welcoming, less threatening.
And while we mustn't escape those responsibilities we've set for ourselves in this life, walking through a friendlier world makes the task of living one more filled with joy than saddled with burden.
Maybe it's that we're tired of searching. That's our common denominator, isn't it? We're all searching--for love, for health, for community, for security, for assurity. Maybe that sweetly innocent aspect of the human condition will be what brings us, despite our apparent differences, together. I don't know.
But I do know one answer. I do know that peace lies in paying attention. That paying attention anchors us to this moment and in this moment, we're here, we're breathing, life is breathing on beside us and we're just fine. Paying attention is the magical act that brings us into presence--and our ability to to change, to manifest, to influence anything in our lives is limited to the present, to this immediate moment.
Beyond that, I don't know. But that's the lovely thing about it--if we pay attention, we don't need to know.
I know we're trained to think that we must work hard and harder and always to effect any kind of change in our lives, in ourselves. But at some point, the ground does get overworked. At some point, the gardener must sit back and wait for the seed to do its thing. The more we prod, the more likely we are to upset the delicate balance needed for germination. We can't, after all, influence the sun, the rains, the temperature of the soil.
Sit on your hands, if you must, but sit. You've dug the bed; let some other forces take the reins for a while.
You've invited change. To be sure, it will accept the invitation.
Insisting on love has never been a waste of time or a waste of energy. And not just here, doves, in our homes, in ourselves, but in the difficult spaces--the commute, the traffic, the long workday, the harried day of parenting. Insist on love for yourself when you lose it, when you speak out of turn, when you complain (again), when you project (again).
We will insist on highlighting the negative. It's what we do because it's easy. But to insist on love is a glorious antidote. Even when your stubbornness keeps you firmly ensconced in your snit, let that little rebel voice insist and insist and insist on love.
Your mind is one powerful manifestation tool. I wonder, more often than is healthy, 'why me?'--and the answer? The subconscious, yet fervent praying that's going on in the echochamber of my skull on a moment-to-moment basis. I've got to reign in those worshippers singing the praises of pessimism, of negativity, give them their eviction notice and hope to attract a new flock--one who sings of joy and hope, color and abundance.
These voices, tempting as they are, familiar as they are, don't have to own us. Their beliefs don't have to be ours. We're caretakers of this cathedral, and we've a right to let it be a place of beauty, of song, of solace, and of cheer.
If I were to create one of those word cloud thingies for my own inner dialogue, the word 'wish' would show up right in the center, all bold and colorfully mocking the rest of my (of late) paltry vocabulary. It's hard not to wish for everything--a piece of chocolate, more money, less debt, the end of the workday, to meet someone, to have your hair/body/youth/etc. back. That hair one gets a huge wish workout on my end, anyway.
I'm not sure eradicating the word 'wish' from our landscape would be the most efficient use of our time, but a slight variation on the theme might. I read this the other day: 'don't say I wish; say I will.'
Sure, I thought, what the heck? I'll try anything at this point. And you know what? It's quite incredible how empowering it is to make that tiny change, how powerful that little word 'will' is. Is it going to bring into reality my heart's deepest desires? I don't know. Maybe. It certainly can't hurt. After all, a little peace of mind, a little empo...
We have moments when we remember that we are infinite, that we are unhindered by the rules we so willingly, most of the time, submit to. The irony is that we believe these moments to be residual delusion (at worst) or wishful thinking (at best). But I'm beginning to think that, on the contrary, these are our few moments of lucidity, tapping into the rhythm and pattern of our real-life origin story.
These are the moments we see clearly that the universe is a balanced place, and because life can be so very difficult, so very confusing, there is--without question--easy grace to be had. In fact, we this gift of grace, of manifestation, already. We have access to scope and sight, vibration and illumination far beyond what we can conceptualize. We *know* this to be true because we glimpse it--and even in that merest split of a second, everything is revealed and we breathe in the relief of knowing we are limitless.