Life Patterns (repost)

If we observe the people who walk into our lives – whether they are there to stay, or are only briefly touching our existence with their presence – we will see that they often resemble one another in character. It is not uncommon to hear people say: “I’ve married my mother” or “I’ve married my father”.


This fact struck me several years ago, when I met a girl who was involved into a very abusive relationship. She told me she was planning on leaving her spouse, and starting a new life. I talked about it with my own husband and we agreed that it would be okay for her to stay with us for a while, at least until she got on her feet. During the few months she lived with us, she opened up a little and told us that this was the fourth abusive relationship she had been into. I was dumbstruck. The odds of running into one abusive relationship are probably fifty-fifty, but running into four of them by the age of thirty-one could not be coincidental. It was almost as if this girl had a label pasted on her forehead, advertising that she was looking for yet another violent man. Then, one night she told me that her father was abusive to her mother and to her. He had beaten both of them physically and verbally, until the mother decided to get out of the marriage and jump into yet another abusive relationship. That, suddenly, explained it all.


As children, we absorb whatever is being fed to us, whether it is praise or judgment, respect or abuse. After taking it all in, the child has no clue what to do with it. The baggage of emotional charge connected to the events long pushed away is not discharged but safely tucked into a secret chest in the attic of the mind. Once put away and dulled by the passing of time, the child pretends it is not there, and attempts to create a life different than the one he or she dreamt of escaping.


Although the new life appears full of promise, the unreleased pain is still screaming to be taken out of its hideout and be sorted out; since the owner of the chest is not willing to take the heavy old thing out of the attic, afraid of reliving the emotional charge connected to the events tucked away, the pain trickles out of the aging, rotten wood, and sneaks out uninvited, haunting the chambers of the subconscious mind and triggering behaviors which promote unhealthy lifestyles. The wounded child is still alive and well, and needs to understand whether he or she is to blame for what happened so long ago.


Youth therapists draw painful occurrences from the well of children’s subconscious minds through role play. It is amazing what will come up from those sessions; the children reenact the very same things that have caused a trauma in their young life, over and over. As adults we do the same; we recreate in our new life the same situations we tried to escape as children, simply to understand the role we played in the unfolding of those past events. We are attracted to and attract people who will support our role play, and the pattern will continue until we have identified the matrix, and dealt with the emotional charge we put away so long ago.


Observing our life patterns will not solve all our problems, but will provide us with a valuable hint to get started in our search. All we need to do is look around ourselves and, for once, not be afraid of the monsters in the attic.

Stuck With Someone Else's Garbage

While I was driving to the mall, last week, one of my neighbors called my cell phone and asked if my son could possibly take her trash can to the curb for her, since she and her husband were out of town. My son, who was sitting in the car and heard the conversation, promptly agreed to help.

We got to the mall, shopped and talked, drank coffee, ate dinner and took my daughter to the play area; by the time we got home, we pulled directly into the garage and completely forgot about the neighbor’s garbage. The next morning, I watched the collectors drive in front of my house, stop at the curb and empty the receptacles – my husband had taken ours out before going to work -- and still no recollection of my neighbor’s trash can swam up to the surface. I walked outside to put a few pieces of mail into the mailbox and watched another neighbor wheel his receptacle back into the garage, and suddenly I remembered!

Praying in my heart that my son had remembered and had gone to the neighbor’s house after we got home without telling me, I glimpsed the curb, and to my expected disappointment, I knew he had forgotten as well. I felt terrible. I walked back to my house and looked up the number for solid waste collection, hoping that, if the truck was still in the vicinity, it could detour a bit and come back by. No such luck. The truck had already left my subdivision and I would have had to pay $50 for them to come back around. Attempting to be helpful, the person who took the call suggested I drive to the nearest landfill.

After hanging up the phone I weighed the landfill option – I drive a small sport car which could never house such a big receptacle, so maybe I could just take the bags out of it and fit them in the trunk somehow…

That idea quickly dissolved like fog in bright sunshine the moment I lifted the lid. Filled to the rim, the stench was overwhelming even in the open air; there was no way I could load those bags into my car. So, I was left with one final option…asking my husband to come to the rescue. I called him on his cell phone while he was picking up our son from Drivers Ed, and explained the situation. Though not happy about it, he drove back to work, borrowed his brother’s pick up truck and came back to load my neighbor’s garbage receptacle to empty it at the dumpster behind his business.

Within thirty minutes he was there, and he and my son took care of the dreaded chore. While I waited for them to come back home with the empty trash can, I thought of how unsettling it is to remain stuck with someone else’s garbage. Even if in this situation I had ‘stuck’ myself with it by forgetting something I had committed to do, there have been times when I have been an unwilling recipient of emotional garbage because I haven’t set proper boundaries.

Many mistakenly believe that by setting boundaries they will be less compassionate, while in most cases it is quite the opposite. One can be compassionate and able to sympathize with a family member better if their point of perspective is fresh and untainted. If, on the other hand, one is busy carrying one’s own personal garbage and that of others on top of it, this person will be completely overwhelmed and will be of little help to anyone.

My consulting editor, Dena, has come up with a genial way of being involved without being sucked into the drama of others, and she has brilliantly called it ‘being compassionately detached.’

Agreeing to be compassionately detached allows one to be open up to the energy of others and encourage them toward seeking a solution, while avoiding to remain stuck into someone else’s drama. Each person has a path to walk and lessons to learn, and sometimes wishing them well on their journeys is all one can do.

Stuck With Someone Else's Garbage

While I was driving to the mall, last week, one of my neighbors called my cell phone and asked if my son could possibly take her trash can to the curb for her, since she and her husband were out of town. My son, who was sitting in the car and heard the conversation, promptly agreed to help.

We got to the mall, shopped and talked, drank coffee, ate dinner and took my daughter to the play area; by the time we got home, we pulled directly into the garage and completely forgot about the neighbor’s garbage. The next morning, I watched the collectors drive in front of my house, stop at the curb and empty the receptacles – my husband had taken ours out before going to work -- and still no recollection of my neighbor’s trash can swam up to the surface. I walked outside to put a few pieces of mail into the mailbox and watched another neighbor wheel his receptacle back into the garage, and suddenly I remembered!

Praying in my heart that my son had remembered and had gone to the neighbor’s house after we got home without telling me, I glimpsed the curb, and to my expected disappointment, I knew he had forgotten as well. I felt terrible. I walked back to my house and looked up the number for solid waste collection, hoping that, if the truck was still in the vicinity, it could detour a bit and come back by. No such luck. The truck had already left my subdivision and I would have had to pay $50 for them to come back around. Attempting to be helpful, the person who took the call suggested I drive to the nearest landfill.

After hanging up the phone I weighed the landfill option – I drive a small sport car which could never house such a big receptacle, so maybe I could just take the bags out of it and fit them in the trunk somehow…

That idea quickly dissolved like fog in bright sunshine the moment I lifted the lid. Filled to the rim, the stench was overwhelming even in the open air; there was no way I could load those bags into my car. So, I was left with one final option…asking my husband to come to the rescue. I called him on his cell phone while he was picking up our son from Drivers Ed, and explained the situation. Though not happy about it, he drove back to work, borrowed his brother’s pick up truck and came back to load my neighbor’s garbage receptacle to empty it at the dumpster behind his business.

Within thirty minutes he was there, and he and my son took care of the dreaded chore. While I waited for them to come back home with the empty trash can, I thought of how unsettling it is to remain stuck with someone else’s garbage. Even if in this situation I had ‘stuck’ myself with it by forgetting something I had committed to do, there have been times when I have been an unwilling recipient of emotional garbage because I haven’t set proper boundaries.

Many mistakenly believe that by setting boundaries they will be less compassionate, while in most cases it is quite the opposite. One can be compassionate and able to sympathize with a family member better if their point of perspective is fresh and untainted. If, on the other hand, one is busy carrying one’s own personal garbage and that of others on top of it, this person will be completely overwhelmed and will be of little help to anyone.

My consulting editor, Dena, has come up with a genial way of being involved without being sucked into the drama of others, and she has brilliantly called it ‘being compassionately detached.’

Agreeing to be compassionately detached allows one to be open up to the energy of others and encourage them toward seeking a solution, while avoiding to remain stuck into someone else’s drama. Each person has a path to walk and lessons to learn, and sometimes wishing them well on their journeys is all one can do.

The "Tired" Vacuum Cleaner

The past few days it has been late spring cleaning time at the Carrington-Smiths. With two very busy months behind, one kid ready to travel and two more eager to start their summer fun, April cleaning has had no choice but become June cleaning.

My daughter, typically unwilling to attend chores she could help with but hell-bent on mastering tasks out of her league, begged for a chance at proving her domestic skills. After careful pondering and a lot of negotiations – to include a small bonus attached to her weekly allowance – she settled on vacuuming the stairs with a small Dirt Devil.

She was on a mission. Armed with the small vacuum, she walked resolutely toward the first staircase, ready to suck the life out of every dust particle in her path. Her enthusiasm lasted about five minutes until she reached the fifth step; after that, she came down with a defeated look, informing me that the vacuum cleaner was ‘tired.’

Having seen many strange things in my day, but never having run into a tired vacuum cleaner, I set out to diagnose the sudden illness. Easier than assessing a childhood disease, it didn’t take long to determine that the refusal of the vacuum to cooperate in our cleaning effort was due to a dirty filter. Seeing that Morgan’s face still appeared a bit cloudy after my prompt intervention, I asked her what was wrong, so she took me by the hand and showed me a small trail of small clumps of dust and tiny particles of unidentified objects that came pouring down when she turned the vacuum cleaner upside down on her way to get help. “It spilled back out, Mom,” she said, “I vacuumed it up but it wouldn’t stay in.” Not wanting her to feel disappointed, I used the now clean vacuum cleaner to suck up the small pile; then, holding the little gadget up to avoid another spill, I went to empty into the trash.

A small, mindless chore; yet, it reminded me of how ‘garbage’ from the past can clog our inner filters to the point that we are not even able to pick up current debris, thus causing us to fail in the goals we presently have in mind. Surely, cleansing our mental filters is more challenging than cleaning dust out of a small Dirt Devil, but allowing ‘big clumps’ of past issues pile up is a choice we make, and one we can always change. Keeping the “old dust” in doesn’t necessarily translate into getting rid of it – it merely means that we have moved it from one place and stored it into another. We might never end up with a completely clean, factory-pristine filter, but we will at least know we have room to do away with the debris littering our present path.

The Dreaded Toy

‘Then it shall come to pass, that the sword, which ye feared, shall overtake you there in the land of Egypt, and the famine, whereof ye were afraid, shall follow close after you there in Egypt; and there ye shall die.” ~ Jeremiah 42:16


Every so often, my daughter falls in love with a new film. The latest choice is the ever popular ET, the film that conquered the hearts of young and old over two decades ago. The other day, since it was very hot outside, she asked if we could just get some popcorn and watch ET together, so we settled in and got the movie started.

It was really interesting to watch her reaction when Elliott and his brother first run into ET – she laughed and thought ET was hilarious when he got scared and screamed. Her response set my thoughts off down a path that led to the day my eldest son watched the same movie for the first time. When ET screamed, he jumped out of his skin! After that, he was afraid of ET for years, and could not even look at pictures of it.

Several years after this particularly traumatizing episode, I took him and his brother to browse ‘Toys ’r Us’ before Christmas, with the intent of gathering ideas for Santa’s list. We walked around different aisles, and looked at different toys. Suddenly, one toy fell from a top shelf and landed directly on Stephen; when I looked at the toy I held my breath…it was a stuffed ET! Michael saw it, too, and instantly glanced at his brother who, in that moment, was still trying to absorb the terrifying reality of it and had automatically turned pale as a ghost. He was frozen in panic; so much in fact, that his mouth opened and closed, and then opened again without even uttering a single word.

A teenager now, Stephen is obviously no longer afraid of a fictional character, but throughout the years I have always found it fascinating how of all the toys that could have fallen, ET had to be the one. What he was most afraid of had found a way to haunt him in the craziest of ways.

After the “ET accident” I started paying attention to the fear patterns of people I knew, including myself. It never failed – the more one was afraid of something, the more the object of their fear would materialize in their lives. I’ve known some whose biggest fear was to be penniless, and most of them struggled with money the majority of their time; I’ve met people who were afraid to be abandoned or not be loved, and somehow, they found themselves walking the very same path they dreaded. I was afraid of spiders and, somehow, there used to always be one in close proximity every time I turned around. When I got over that fear, spiders suddenly migrated away from me.

Thoughts void of emotions flow through our minds constantly, but if not paid much attention, they just become reabsorbed by the collective consciousness; however, when thoughts are fueled by a powerful emotional charge such as fear, they suddenly vibrate at a higher level, strong enough to manifest into one’s reality.

I believe that Stephen learned a hard lesson that day, one I think he will never forget. To date, he smiles whenever he sees an image of ET. His own little personal demon had come to get him, but once he was able to breathe again, he realized it was nothing he couldn’t put back on a shelf.

The Day Isabel Came to Life

With two kids home from school for the summer (one of them is visiting grandparents in Europe), personal engagements seem to find their place at the bottom of the proverbial list. When it was suggested to me by a friend that I should go meet the owner of Abagayle’s Books and Collectibles in Henderson in the hope of getting my books into her store, I called and talked to Abby, the owner.

Abby was very nice and personable, and I was amazed, after hanging up, to see that we had talked for almost an hour. We weren’t sure about dates for a signing, so I proposed to bring some books to her and try to find a day that was good for both of us.

Easy as pie, right? Think again…one day we had decided to get together, something came up for me and I had to cancel; the next attempt was killed in its infancy by my daughter being sick for almost a week, and the one after that Abby was busy with events taking place at the store that day.

We set up yet another date for this past Tuesday, and FINALLY nothing got in the way – no suddenly-formed hurricanes, middle-of-the-night emergencies or other assorted obstacles; this time no hail or high water could stop me…I was going to Henderson.

It took me a little less than an hour to get there, and only a few seconds to find a parking spot. I walked into the store, and saw a lady sitting on a chair in front of the counter; never having met Abby before, I wasn’t sure if it was her. But, the surprises were only about to begin. Another face came into vision to greet us, and when I focused on the person the voice had come from, my own voice got stuck for a moment – standing in front of me, in flesh and bones, was the perfect incarnation of one of the characters in my book. I think my brain took a few moments to fully absorb the surprise of the moment, and before I knew it, I found myself participating into a conversation with Abby and the other lady in the store.

After the customer left, Abby took me and Morgan to a small sitting area in the back of the store, where we settled into comfortable chairs and started chatting. If she had just looked like Isabel the first moment I saw her, now she even sounded like her! Similar circumstances had taken her to North Carolina, and her wisdom was not of this world. I really believe that if my daughter hadn’t gotten hungry, I would have loved to stay there and talk to her for much longer. We compared experiences, talked about our families and traditions, of life in Louisiana and North Carolina, and ultimately, I felt an incredible connection with her that couldn’t be easily explained.

After I left, Morgan fell asleep in the car, so I had ample time to think as I drove. How strange was it that I would run into someone that so incredibly resembled someone else I had made up in my own mind? She wasn’t a mere character, but a real person with a real history, whose true life destiny was very much aligned with a fictional one. I couldn’t find the link, though my mind shot in all possible directions, desperately trying to make sense of something so irrationally delightful.

And so, I came to a conclusion…could it be that we “think up” the people we are going to meet because, though we haven’t met them yet, we already know them? Could it be that we think what will happen tomorrow already happened, and our minds just haven’t accepted it yet, thus making it only available as a thought?

No one can credit or discredit such a theory, because in reality, there is a lot about the spiritual and soul realms we still don’t understand. And, ultimately, I don’t have to understand this for it to be manifesting. All I need to know is that a warm, kind character has come to life; for that, I am very grateful.

Book Alert - Are You Ready for Simpler Living?

Online or offline, we are besieged by more information and communication than our counterparts of previous generations could ever imagine. In the course of a single second, hundreds of years' worth of new information becomes available based on average human intake capacities. In other words, in the next second, more television and radio programming; more books, magazines, newspapers, and print publications; more journals, government reports, industry studies, newsletters, and fact sheets; and more advertisements, commercials, promotions, and sales pitches will be produced than anyone could intellectually ingest in the next hundred years. With each following second, the phenomenon repeats itself. On Youtube alone, thousands of hours of new video footage is added every day.

“Predictably, we've reached the stage in our socio-cultural evolution where the number of items competing for one's time and attention greatly outstrips anyone's ability to keep up. No president, prime minister, king or queen, noble laureate, head of world religion, head of a university, scientist, researcher, or guru of any sort has a lock on the future of world events and human endeavors," says Jeff Davidson. Davidson is a professional speaker and author of 56 books including his latest, Simpler Living: A Back to Basics Guide to Cleaning, Furnishing, Storing, De-cluttering, Streamlining, Organizing, and More (Skyhorse Publishing, distributed by Norton).

The bombardment has reached such epidemic levels that virtually every aspect of one's life is dominated by messages. From airport TV monitors to advertising on the wall above urinals in restrooms the spaces and places in our lives are now depositories for more messages and information to which we must attend. No arena in our professional or personal lives is unscathed. The National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health report No. 99-101, titled Stress at Work, reports that "The nature of work is changing at whirlwind speed. Perhaps now more than ever before, job stress poses a threat to the health of workers and, in turn, to the health organizations."

Buy an airline ticket and the federal regulations that accompany your ticket exceed 8,000 words, equivalent to two chapters of a novel. Purchase a new home and encounter a bewildering array of forms, documents, pledges, and assurances you must sign – double the number of fifteen years ago.

In autumn 1988, Davidson had his first glimmer of the coming era of complexity that now fully submerges us. "It dawned on me back then that geometric growth in population, the volume of new information generated each day, media growth in terms of technological capability and global coverage, the volume of paper generated even as electronic information capabilities began to accelerate, and the over-abundance of choices that confronted people in all aspects of their lives would lead to a future much like the one we are experiencing right now."

Davidson wrote about these developments, which he termed the “Five Mega- Realities", in his 1990 book Breathing Space: Living and Working at a Comfortable Pace in a Speed Up Society, which was revised in 2000 and again in 2007. "Information and communication overload is at the root of much of the stress and anxiety that we experience today," says Davidson. "Unfortunately, the typical person has little understanding of the larger forces at play. For people under age 30, this non-stop, 24x7 world is all they've ever known. For them, there never has been a quieter, slower pace to life. They cannot conceive of a world before ubiquitous cell phones, the Web, and cable television, let alone with less noise and about half the traffic."

Simpler Living is designed to give people a framework for gaining control of their lives. The first three chapters focus on how we arrived at this ultra-hectic pace of life. From chapter 4 on, the book takes a room-by-room and step-by-step approach to simplifying and reclaiming one's home, office, leisure activities, nutrition, and health.

Simpler Living offers more than 1,500 tips and thus serves as a reference book, rather than a book to be read cover-to-cover. "Whether it's your kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom, den, bedroom, attic, garage, back porch, car, or any other space in your life, turn directly to that chapter to gain a bevy of ideas for achieving simplicity," says Davidson. The advice in Simpler Living has wide appeal. For example, the book includes six questions to ask yourself before buying something new. There are instructions for setting up a home office, a four-step process for curtailing paper clutter, strategies to entirely eliminate some chores, and, most vital, how to find the time to unwind.

The publisher of Simple Living took a novel approach to its production by offering it in a landscape format: is wider than taller and has a unique appeal to it, as both a reference book and a coffee table book, adorned with more than 950 full-color, breathtaking photographs. The driving idea behind the book is that it would appeal to readers of such long-standing and venerated publications such as Yankee Magazine, Better Home and Gardens, Reader's Digest, Family Circle, and Country Home, as well Money, Traditional Home, Allure, and Elle.

Davidson hopes that the real-world solutions contained in Simpler Living will enable people to end the "clutter, complexity, and chaos in their lives, and discover the peaceful, productive lifestyle that they deserve."


Note: Jeff Davidson is a NC author currently living in the Triangle.

United in Prayer -- Will You Join Us?

Dr. Masaru Emoto is a scientist from Japan who has done research, and published information, about the characteristics of water. Among other things, his research revealed that water physically responds to emotions.

When we think of what’s happening in the Gulf, most of us feel overwhelmed and overcome with negative emotions, but while justified in that emotion, we may be of greater assistance to our planet and its life forms if we sincerely, powerfully and humbly send out our collective energy through the simple prayer Dr. Emoto, himself, has proposed. It doesn’t matter whom one prays to, all that matters is that healing, loving energy is sent out and focused on the Gulf.

We are not powerless. We are powerful. Our united energy, released by sending out this prayer daily...multiple times daily...can literally shift the balance of destruction that is taking place. We don't have to know how...we just have to recognize that the power of love is greater than any other power active in the Universe today.

"I send the energy of love and gratitude to the waters and all living creatures
in the Gulf of Mexico and its surroundings.
To the whales, dolphins, pelicans, fish, shellfish, planktons,
corals, algae ... to ALL living creatures ... I am sorry.
Please forgive me. Thank you.
I Love You."

What do we have to lose in trying?


(The information above was sent to me by a friend who’s a spiritual teacher. While I can’t vouch for the accuracy of the data reported, I really believe that this short, simple prayer holds a tremendous amount of power. My friend copied it on sticky notes and posted it in different areas of her home, to ensure she will repeat it several times a day.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PzASMa_Th10


GET HOOKED ON THE BOOK!

The Book of Obeah Is Finally in Stores!!!

Finally!!!!!!! As many of you know, the past few years I have lived to see this day. Finding myself face to face with The Book of Obeah on a shelf, tagged and facing forward, in a Barnes & Noble store, made all the work of the past many months worth it.

Thank you so much for all the support, everybody! I don't know if I would have been able to hang on for the ride without you.

Many blessings,

Sandra

Drama, My Love...

“I want to feel passion, I want to feel pain. I want to weep at the sound of your name. Come make me laugh, come make me cry…just make me feel alive” ~ Joey Lauren Adams


Sometimes I don’t think we realize how much we enjoy drama – even those of us who claim to denounce it completely. We love and fear it at the same time, mixing an intoxicating cocktail that speeds the heart and inebriates the mind. Even if many of us will never own up to it, we welcome drama in our lives, for even if it turns our lives upside down, it allows us to appreciate certain things we wouldn’t notice otherwise.

We live to experience thrills – a fast car, a heart-stopping ride at the fair, a good thriller on TV, a dangerous storm – because through it all we feel alive.

Love for drama is evident in everything that surrounds us, from the entertainment we choose, to the choices we make in life. Indeed living a life free of drama is possible, but it gets boring pretty fast. Staring at the crystal-clear water of a shallow pool is pleasant for a while, but it doesn’t take long before one craves the dangerous waves produced by a storm at sea.

Very few things create an electrical charge the way drama does. Through our connection with others we activate energetic extremes – positive and negative, both necessary to initiate a shock. We love some deeply and “hate” others with just as much passion; once the two charges meet, they create a current that keeps us electrified and in motion.

Drama is the earthly force that keeps us anchored to our human role. As unsettling as it is, it serves a purpose if taken in small doses, for without its powerful influence we would easily skip over many of the lessons our soul needs to learn. In so many ways, drama connects people on different levels.

Just as with any TV program, we have the power to end it just by switching the channel of our focus. And we never have to worry about losing the remote.

Want to see "The Book of Obeah" on the Silver Screen?

This dream could come true, if you help vote for the video trailer. The video was recently entered into a short film contest sponsored by the Topanga Film Festival 2010 called Suitable for All Screens, and the two winners -- chosen by popular vote -- receive a production contract!

The potential to make amazing connections for The Book of Obeah and The Crossroads Series is simply incredible with this opportunity!

So, if you feel inclined, please, please, help make The Book of Obeah a winner.

Voting is simple. All you need to do is click on the link, then click on the video (you'll see The Book of Obeah cover). You will be asked to enter a username and your e-mail; as soon as you receive a password, you can go in and click on a star, to rate the video from 1 to 5 stars.

http://suitableforallscreens.com/

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! It sure would be fun to see Melody Bennet and her journey on screen, wouldn't it?

Learn more about The Book of Obeah.

I will Miss You...

“No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.” ~Robert Southey


It’s hard to believe it has been two years already since Dena, my consulting editor, suggested I start a blog. Quite unsure of what I should even write about, I started posting twice a week on Blogspot, and for the most part I wrote about things that happened throughout my day. No biggie. A comment here, two there, and weeks continued to pass, until, on the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, I wrote a post and decided to publish it on a local news site. Given the topic and my out-of-the-box views, the post was quickly assaulted, and my presence online was sealed from that day on.

Following that first post, I started visiting the site more frequently and, soon enough, blogging became a daily appointment. It wasn’t long before I began to export my blog to other sites as well; to date, I post daily to about fifteen sites.

What I thought would be only online friendships evolved into some real life connections as well, something that to this day still blows my mind. Two years ago I was the first person who used to harshly judge meeting people online on the basis that those connections were not safe. Conditioned by an external perception of how dangerous an e-life could be, I, like many others, assumed that mostly predators lurked around cyber realities.

How wrong I was! Many of the people I have met during the last two years are wholesome and kind, giving and compassionate, but mostly, they are people just like me, wading through the waters of life and happy to connect with kindred spirits. Some are serious, some are jokesters, some are happy and some others sad, but as a whole, they have provided a huge cushion of support I felt comfortable to fall upon on days that weren’t quite so brisk.

Whether we have met in person or only virtually, I feel a connection with those I’ve been fortunate enough to meet and talk to on a daily basis. Chatting online has become such a fun part of my morning routine that I miss it terribly when I have to focus on certain projects that require my full attention.

One of those projects is at the door, so I will hardly be online at all next week. Coffee won’t be the same, and as I sit alone working, I will be wondering what everyone is talking about; the silver lining is that I know everyone is still there, and will continue to be there when I get back. That simple knowledge makes me feel very good. So, thank you for that, and know that even if I won’t be talking to you for a few days, you are a very special part of my life.

The Masks We Wear (Repost)

Masks are one of the most remarkable manmade creations used in rituals throughout recorded history, used by our ancestors to form a bridge between themselves and the Divine. Though in modern times the mask has a negative connotation of disguise with the intent to deceive, the ancient world perceived masks as tools of revelation, a connection to invisible powers.

“Identity masks” are often worn to hide the vulnerable parts of ourselves, and most of them are molded in response to societal demands, parental suggestions and peer pressure. Most of us wear some sort of mask to introduce ourselves to the world. It is not done to deceive anybody; rather, it is an effort we make to ensure that we are accepted and loved by others. Many feel that they could not be accepted for who they truly are, so they slip the mask on. Sometimes they become so used to doing it, that they are unable themselves to differentiate who they truly are from who they believe people want them to be.

We constantly blame the world for not accepting us for who we are, yet we don’t fully accept ourselves. We would rather go on and be who we are not, rather than recognize that the standards we measure ourselves against are manmade and often based on others’ perceptions of good and bad. The person who lives inside of us may be scared, bruised, shy, but it is rarely bad. The need to hide behind a mask is self-imposed, and as such it can be eliminated.

If we take a glimpse of our true selves, who are we, really? Are we truly the person we are portraying? Or is that person someone our caregivers and societies wanted it to be? Do we really believe what we claim to believe? Do we really despise what we assert to despise? Or have we grown to believe we do just because it would make someone else happy and proud?

What about you? Who is the true self hidden behind your mask?

New Journey

Today my son is leaving for Italy. The trip we thought would never arrive is finally here. The last few days flew by in a flurry of activity, and all the while, Michael’s excitement continued to grow.

Yesterday afternoon, as I closed his suitcase after putting in the last few items, I thought back about all the work of the past few days – clothes shopping, haircut, last minute gifts to send to grandparents – and all the surface stress that went with it. We lost keys, missed swim practice sessions for my daughter, forgot items we needed, and we constantly felt we were running out of time.

Preparing for a long trip is not too different than preparing for a new chapter in life – you work, work, and then work some more, and you feel that you are never going to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then, suddenly, things seem to slow down, activity ceases, and the rush of adrenaline settles. Everything – or mostly everything, at least – is in place and it is time to recharge as we wait for changes to come.

Last night felt like that. We had been running around for so long that our pace became naturally accelerated. Slowing down felt strange and gave us a feeling of leaving something undone; yet, all the ties were pulled and secured in a knot. Once all the hard work was in place, it was time to take a step back, assess what we have accomplished and finally relax.

We grilled steaks – one of Michael’s favorite meals – and sat around on the deck talking about all the cool things he’s going to see and all the fun he is going to have. Today is going to be a long day for him, but a very exciting one all the same. He is flying to New York, and then directly to Italy, all alone for the first time. For him, this is a trial by fear, but one he is eager to take. Overcoming his fears of traveling alone feels, to him, like a badge of honor he will finally get to wear, one which will identify him as a young adult. And, the prize at the end of the race is way sweet – with grandparents eager to embrace the role of “serial spoilers” Michael already knows he is in for the treat of his life.

We typically become stressed whenever we prepare for something new, afraid to mess it up somehow, or to forget something important. Our energy gets sucked away, much like ocean water receding into the depths only to come back tenfold in the impetus of a large wave. It’s almost as if the energy we seem to throw around is needed to pack the punch before whatever is coming can make its grand entrance into our lives.

I try to think of this any time my own life seems to slow down, or all my hard work appears scattered to the four winds. None of the energy is really lost or useless, and it will all pay off in the end. For Michael pay day is today.

“The High-heeled Guide to Enlightenment" by Alice Grist -- A Book Review

“The High-heeled Guide to Enlightenment is the must have book for feisty females who are looking to connect to something other than their Internet provider!”

When I first read this sentence, my curiosity stood on full alert, and I couldn’t wait to find out what this book was all about. I ordered the title on Amazon, and just a few days later I had the opportunity to find out for myself.

In The High Heeled Guide to Enlightenment Alice Grist takes the reader on a journey across the board of alternate spiritualities. Rather than delving into one practice alone, the reader is skillfully led to widen spiritual boundaries through the exploration of different practices, ranging from Wicca to Buddhism, Shamanism, Kabbalah and Feng-Shui.

Rather than being a main course dish, The High Heeled Guide to Enlightenment is a sampler platter offering something for everybody. In fact, while I am not a follower of many of the practices discussed, I found their descriptions fascinating and informative. I particularly enjoyed one chapter on coincidences and patterns, and once I finished reading it I found that some of the concepts were expressed in such a fresh, new voice that couldn’t fail to charm anyone gifted with an open mind.

The dynamic writing style and the unique approach employed by the author make this book a delightful read for anyone willing to expand one’s knowledge and personal boundaries. For the spiritual beginner, it is a must-read guide necessary to learn more about, and differentiate, the different paths; for those already intimately connected with some of the paths, The High heeled Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment is a great reference book aimed at shedding light on some of the roads less traveled.

A wonderful door opener for anyone ready to embark on their own journey toward enlightenment.

Tapping In

“Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.” - Marie Curie


‘What are you most afraid of?’ When I ask this question, I am always amazed by the replies I receive. Generally, people are afraid of being hurt, of being alone and, mostly, of lack of any type. Yet, none of the things many are afraid of are ever really dangerous or permanent, but only largely misunderstood.

It is very easy to be led by collective hysteria and conditioning, though we rarely acknowledge such an influence on our individual minds. Fear of lack is a great example, and it is often exacerbated by the constant outpour of negative media – unless we can measure up to impossible standards of love, wealth and success, we feel we will not be able to keep up with the race and we will soon wither and die, forgotten and left behind by the rest of humanity.

There is however, a different level of fear created by the ego, whose task is to keep us disconnected from our center of power. The main job of our ego – since it is intimately connected with our body and thus with existence in this dimension – is to keep our focus on the preservation of the body itself; long considered the temple of our soul, our body IS the vehicle to remain on earth as long as we can, so that our spirit can assimilate what it came to learn; in these terms, it’s easy to understand why one part of ourselves is determined to make sure we continue to physically thrive.

Strangely enough two of the most popular phobias are ophidiophobia and arachnophobia, the first one being a paralyzing fear of snakes and the latter a fear of spiders. To understand these fears better, let’s take a look at the creatures involved.

Snakes can be venomous, we all agree to that, but they are also very shy animals who rarely attack unless they are provoked. Snakes can also be garden friends, for they greatly reduce the population of rats and other pests that could really pose a much more ominous threat to our health and lifestyle. Since the advent of Christianity, snakes have suffered a really bad reputation, and they have been unfairly associated to a demonic essence. Interestingly, before patriarchal religions took over, snakes were worshipped because of their power of renewal (shedding of the skin) and continuity of all things. In esoteric images, a snake biting its own tail represents the world, also known as the cosmic egg, and it embraces the concept of infinity defined by a continuous circle. The snake is also associated to Kundalini energy, a type of energy usually dormant and ‘coiled’ in our sacral area near the tail bone (don’t you find it interesting that the area itself has a name which recalls the word ‘sacred’?) The gradual awakening of Kundalini energy is the ultimate goal of Kundalini Yoga, an ancient eastern practice; through Kundalini Yoga, the seven energy centers, also known as chakras, are opened, thus allowing the life energy to flow upward along the spine.

Spiders are also creatures most of us would like to see wiped from the face of the earth, but even they are not particularly harmful; never mind the fact that they are small and probably more terrified of us than we are of them. Spiders are unpredictable, powerful and necessary to keep other pests down to an acceptable level. Like snakes, spiders have also received the wrong end of the stick – they are stuck being a symbol of all things creepy, of Halloween, of witches and demons, of darkness and danger. But, spiders are also a symbol of creativity. They build amazing natural designs which are a mystery and miracle of their own. To us, a web appears as a net of silky threads, but when bathed in light it appears as a flower to insects.

When I was younger I was terrified of spiders. I still am not a huge fan of them, but in time I have learned to appreciate not only their role in nature, but also their beauty. Oddly, my fear of them began to decrease when I tapped into my own center of power. As I grew stronger within myself, and more creative, the fear subsided. I don’t think I would own a spider as a pet – that’s for another lifetime – but I can now sit beside one without jumping out of my skin.

So here it is – some of the things we are most afraid of are those connected to our own inner power, for as long as we are afraid to tap in the deeper recesses of ourselves we can continue to serve our ego and fulfill the illusion that we are our bodies.

Everything has a nature of duality, and inside each of us exist opposing forces constantly at battle with one another. They don’t need to be. Once we accept that both are unknowingly serving the same purpose, rising above our fears will be easier than we ever anticipated. Finding beauty in that which we’ve always deemed scary or ugly can be an interesting challenge, but it will be one that will deliver us to a greater awareness as we journey to discover the ultimate truth.

The Magic of an Ordinary Day

Yesterday was a fun day. It started around seven in the morning when I woke up in a house full of sleeping kids. I went downstairs, started the coffee pot, and went outside on the porch to give the flowers a little drink while I waited for my own cup of miracles to finish brewing. It was an amazing morning – already steamy so early on, the day announced itself as yet another scorcher.

There is something quite magical about a summer – or late spring – morning. Birds fill the air with an excited song of promise and the nocturnal moisture is still lingering in tiny droplets bathing every leaf and strand of grass, as if they just came back from a relaxing swim. I sat on one of the porch rockers for a few minutes and deeply inhaled the intoxicating scent of grass and budding life, before an even more bewitching aroma penetrated the air and made everything pale in comparison – coffee was ready.

The rest of the morning passed quite uneventfully, aside from my daughter running off like a thief in the night with the magic marker I was using to create a poster for the book signing, and then forgetting where she had left it when her 5-year-old attention was captured by some other random thing. Funny as it is, while I was looking for the marker I found an old necklace I had misplaced some time ago. I never found the marker and I came to the conclusion that either my house swallows and spits items at its own liking, or my daughter fits her enchantress name and she figured out how to make things shift in and out of reality at will. I am confident that with more practice one of these days she’ll learn how to shift a sack of money INTO reality.

Hours flew by and it was suddenly time for morning to trade shifts with afternoon, which also meant it was time to leave for the signing. With a budding knight in shining armor in tow, I left my screaming daughter home with dad – that girl might never learn how to shimmer money into reality but she will, one day, win a Grammy for best dramatic performance – and Michael and I got on the road.

When we arrived, the owner of the tea shop informed me they had been pretty slow but I unpacked anyway while my son went next door to get two bottles of water ($4 for two bottles of water! You’d think the kid had bought Zeus’ water of life and knowledge!)

The signing proved to be slow as well, but we had a great time. A handful of friends stopped by and kept us company; I sold a few books and raised the first $15 going toward Hooked on the Book, a newly-launched project to raise funds for the Gulf.

After wrapping up, we went to Piccola Italia with two of the friends who stopped by. We sat at one of their outside tables and chatted away. The food was great, the wine superb, the company wonderful, and we even got to meet the owner of the joint, a jolly little Italian Man with a heavy accent and hands magically designed to make good pizza. What more can a soul desire?

The rest of the evening was very laid back and even my magic marker reappeared, now that I no longer needed it. When the kids went to bed I thought back about the day and couldn’t help smiling. There are challenging things happening in the world, often in our very own backyard, yet every day can be a great one if we stop and appreciate the small things. Through the eyes of a pessimist yesterday could have been a poor day – a necessary tool was lost, the signing was slow and the air outside was as hot and humid as soup, but if one really focused on reality, all those things had another, much happier side – I found a long-lost item, the lack of a large crowd gave me the opportunity of getting to know the people who had come a little better, and the warm weather allowed us the chance to sit outside and crown the day with a good meal and pleasant conversation.

Life is what you make it, and each experience can be as tart as lemon or sweet as candy. Personally, I choose to see it as a box of my favorite chocolates.

The Interview

Some things in life can simultaneously be exciting and scary. That’s how I felt yesterday as I prepared to participate in an hour-long radio interview. I tuned in a little earlier than my scheduled time to hear the previous guest and to get a feel of the conversation; after listening for a moment, my heart sank. Many questions and answers gravitated around current events and political issues, something I was completely unprepared for.

For a moment I was overtaken by sheer panic – what would the host ask me? Being almost entirely an apolitical creature, the mere thought of talking about such issues tied my tongue worse than a tablespoon of peanut butter. I watched the clock on my stove like a man awaiting his final moments, almost dreading to hear the phone ring. When it did, my heart skipped a beat, but suddenly the words a friend had shared with me just a few days before popped into my head. “If you get nervous,” she said, “speak your heart, not your mind.”

I could do that much. Her words soothed me and made me feel more confident, and I picked up the phone. The whole interview turned into a nice chat, and before I knew it I looked at the clock again and noticed that a whole hour had gone by. Somehow, I had lived through the interview and I had fun with it; once I started talking and answering questions the words formulated in my head with no particular effort.

After I hung up the phone I thought back about the whole experience. All the anxiety I had felt before the interview evaporated like droplets of dew in July sunshine the moment I decided that I was going to let my heart speak. Our inner self knows much more than we give it credit for, but on most occasions it selflessly sits back and allows the more arrogant and self-doubting rational mind to take center stage. The inner self has nothing to prove and will not argue meaningless points, but when all is said and done, its wisdom greatly surpasses the computerized knowledge of the rational mind. All of us have tremendous power if we tap into that part of ourselves which is not limited by ego and arrogance. We don’t need to know everything about a topic to relate how we feel about it. Another friend left me a comment on a post once: “Knowledge is being aware that a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it into a fruit salad.”

Ultimately, we can know the “ins” and “outs” of something, and spit out facts like an angry llama, but very few facts are powerful enough to replace the application of common sense and inner truth. Technicalities do not make one smarter, they only make one well-read.

In the end, my friend was right. When I retired the mind and enlisted the soul, all obstacles, doubts and limitations checked out, and inner knowing stepped in. Did I give all the right answers? Maybe; or maybe not. But, in the end, the conversation was pleasant and I got to discuss my beliefs, my books, healing techniques and spiritual matters.

Yesterday afternoon I found myself in front of a new door; it was great to discover that the key to it was already in my possession.

The Coffee Stain

“Shyness has a strange element of narcissism. A Belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people.” ~ Andre Dubus


Growing up next door to one of the fashion capitals of the world, appearances used to be very important to me. I clearly remember that, as a teenager, I would not even go outside unless I had make-up on, or wore high-heels. Then life caught up with me, and over time I came to accept that some of these things really don’t matter.

Last week, I stopped by a local Target while on my way home from running other errands; since I had rushed most of the morning, I stopped at the adjoining Starbucks to get a cup of coffee I could sip while picking up groceries and new goggles for my daughter. I hadn’t even left the coffee shop when I felt something very hot splash over my leg – the lid on the coffee cup wasn’t completely closed, and some of the steaming beverage had spilled right on my pants!

Mumbling the whole way there, I went to the ladies’ room to see if I could, somehow, repair some of the damage. The stain had by now spread and there was little I could do; I wet a paper towel and vigorously rubbed the stain, hoping to magically see it disappear, but when I stopped the stain was still there; if that wasn’t enough, it was now strangely decorated with dozens of tiny paper specks that had attached to the wet fabric.

Great! What was I to do now? I couldn’t waste the precious hour of child-free shopping, yet I was uncomfortable walking around the store with wet, stained clothes. It was time to make a decision. And that’s when I looked around. Everyone was absorbed in what they were doing, and barely making eye contact with strangers. Were these people really going to snap out of their own reveries and routines to acknowledge the fact that my pants were stained? Hardly.

The decision was made – I wasn’t going to let a stain redirect the course of my day. I marched toward the aisles and proceeded to look for the things I needed. By the time I got back to my car, I assessed the situation: not a single person had looked at me twice, or even hinted at the fact they had noticed anything strange.

We invest so much energy worrying about what others are going to think that we often lose sight of the fact that most people don’t really notice the same things we do. And, even if they do notice, what are the chances that they will continue thinking about what they saw for more than a few seconds? Once we are out of their sight, their awareness of us and our ‘unforgivable’ problem is gone and forgotten; if they met us the next day, they would likely not even remember they had seen us before.

Similarly, I use to get irritated at my husband when he acted foolishly inside the grocery store; did I think that people were going to devote more than a tiny fragment of their time to evaluate his performance? Did I actually entertain the thought that they were taking that one experience home to be discussed over dinner with their families?

These days I no longer worry about appearances, just as much as I no longer feel awkward expressing my thoughts to others. Growing older doesn’t only bring upon gifts of wrinkles and gray hair, but it also allows one to realize that self-consciousness is often synonymous with personal arrogance.

"Silent Voices of the Soul," by Robin Leigh Vella -- A Book Review

I love to listen to stories; I always have. And when the stories are true, and told in a melodic voice which soothes the spirit, I cannot help but being swept away to a magical place. That’s how I felt when I immersed myself in Silent Voices of The Soul by Robin Leigh Vella.

The cover itself is very interesting – depicting a potted plant and energy floating above the flowers, the design is pleasant to the eye and thought-provoking in the least – but I must admit that when I first picked up the book I wasn’t prepared for the powerful lessons I found once I started reading.

Being an avid reader of self-improvement fiction and nonfiction, I am painfully accustomed to the fact that many authors use big words and ethereal descriptions purely for shock value, and they rarely realize that many readers feel excluded from what they perceive as a level of enlightenment too high for most of us to attain. Not Robin leigh Vella. Reading her book was similar to sitting down on a cozy couch in someone’s living room and listening to a friend while she led a casual conversation about her daily experiences. Employing a choice of words which is simple enough to be grasped by the occasional reader, and powerful enough to trigger awareness in the spiritual adept, Silent Voices of The Soul is a gift of gentle and embracing energy aimed at delicately nudging readers toward opening up to hear their inner voice at their own unique pace.

I enjoyed Silent Voices of The Soul immensely, and I feel that I will read it again and again, whenever I’ll need a reminder that answers are never too far from where we are. I have no doubt that this book’s empowering vibrations will continue to be carried by the winds of time for years to come.

http://www.robinleighvella.com/