30-Day Mental Diet Starting On June 1!

Hello friends!

Starting on June 1st, I will post one daily tip aimed at shedding unnecessary emotional weight. The tips will be of motivational and inspirational nature, and they will either gently nudge you to think of, and shed, things that no longer serve the present reality, or they will encourage you to do something that will help to increase your self-worth. I opened a Facebook page just for this, and you can join our group effort at http://on.fb.me/jXVbLK

It is completely free to join, and there are no hidden fees. Research shows that groups can be more successful in achieving certain milestones and mental balance is certainly a goal which deserves a joint effort.

You can use the page to share with friends, post your thoughts, and offer encouragement and feedback to other people in the group.

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.

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 Tree House

"In order to reach your goals, you will have to climb a long way and be frightened. But take it a step at a time"

Those were the words a kind uncle uttered one day, as his young niece expressed her fear of climbing the ladder leading to the tree house he had built. Their home was a two- story Victorian with a steep pitched roof. The tree house was in an old Oak tree, and it was higher than the roof top of the Victorian house. To the little girl who stood at the bottom of the tree, the tree house seemed to float above the clouds, and she was apprehensive about going up. Despite her fears, her uncle gently nudged her to start climbing.

Many years later, as she worked her way through college, and struggled juggling jobs and school work, the girl always remembered that day, and thoughts of the tree house propelled her forward toward achieving greater heights.

Even if the heights we are attempting to reach are not unthinkable ones, it is quite common to be frightened when we contemplate our goals. Just like the tree house, our dreams seem exceedingly distant and it is easy to forget that each step gets us closer to destination.

We may not see the results right away, and that’s usually discouraging. Once a goal is set, faith must carry us the rest of the way. We can’t look down, or else we will fall. We can only go forward, one step at a time, knowing that we WILL get to the tree house if we keep up our efforts.

Growing up, I had a friend who had weight problems. Periodically, she would get motivated to try a new diet, but after following it for a week or two, she would give up. When I asked why she didn’t stick with the regimen, she always replied that she wasn’t losing any weight anyway. In reality, it was not true. Even after a week, one could tell that something was slightly changing, but it would have taken several weeks to see noticeable results. The change was not dramatic enough to keep her committed to her goal.

A few years ago, I ran into her while visiting my parents, and saw that she had lost an amazing amount of weight. When I asked her what had finally worked, she said: "I just decided to stick with the diet, regardless of the immediate lack of reward." Although she could not see tangible results, she had decided to have faith and continue – the pounds began to melt off, and a new woman, smiling and confident, was born.

Fear of failure is probably the greatest deterrent of going far. We are afraid of not making it, so we don’t even try. Once that fear is conquered, and faith takes over, the worst is done.

The little girl of the story had a special place in the heart for the uncle that encouraged her to climb the tree house and she will always know that when she is scared of anything, she can think of that beautiful, sunny day.

I am certain her uncle, who recently passed away, is smiling down at her from the top of the tree house, proud of all she has conquered. In fact, I think he is doing that right now.

http://www.sandracarringtonsmith.com

Redefining Perfection

"When you aim for perfection, you discover it's a moving target." ~ Geoffrey F. Fisher

Last night, while I was on the phone with my mother-in-law, our conversation led to a discussion on the concept of perfection.

According to the Merriam-Webster’s dictionary the following are two definitions for perfection: 1) the quality or state of being perfect: as a: freedom from fault or defect : b: the quality or state of being saintly; 2) a: an exemplification of supreme excellence b: an unsurpassable degree of accuracy or excellence.

Nice definitions, but if we look at them closely, they are not definitions of perfection per se, but definitions built around individual perceptions of it.

1a- "Freedom from fault or defect – what exactly does that mean? Who is perfect enough to decide what is faulty or defective? Our perception spins from what we have been taught, and it rarely reflects reality; it merely shows what we consider right or wrong in base of what we have learned. Even when we are sure to be "thinking with our own head," our perception of the world around us is filtered through our senses, which are limited and faulty at best.

1b- "The quality or state of being saintly" – What constitutes a saint? Is it someone who spends their life doing for others? Most likely it is someone who’s considered good when measured against our societal scales, which are created by men and are not perfect.

2a- "An exemplification of supreme excellence" – The only supreme excellence is that of a higher intelligence – no man, or anything created by man, can perceive the full concept of it. It equates fitting the waters of an ocean inside a bottle – only a tiny part of it can go in.

2b- "an unsurpassable degree of accuracy or excellence." – Big words, but again, who decides what is accurate and excellent? What parameters do we use to decide if something is completely correct?

Although amazing milestones have been conquered, even science is not perfect, and it is baffled by Nature quite consistently. Just like a virus, perfection cannot be isolated – it mutates and assumes different identities depending on what trends it contends with, and the perception of it changes from individual to individual. That explains why some people can see something or someone and think they are perfect and wonderful, while some others can look at the same and see only faults and defects.

This distinction applies to many concepts – good and evil, beauty and/or lack of it, religion, politics; the list could be endless. Our perception is largely affected by our environment and the rules we have grown to identify with. There is no such thing as a perfect human or a perfect thing – the sooner we realize this simple reality, the closer we will be to understanding that being unique is perfect in itself.


http://www.sandracarringtonsmith.com

Forgive Me, For I Have Sinned...

"It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution." ~ Oscar Wilde


Growing up Catholic, confession was one of the dreaded tasks I had no way out of and never looked forward to, but unfortunately it was one of the necessary evils one had to undergo at least once a month. According to Don Battaglini, confession was as essential before receiving communion as scrubbing behind one’s ears is before going to the doctor, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For many years I didn’t really understand the meaning of confession. What could anyone – a kid, especially – have done that they couldn’t express directly to God? There were times I couldn’t even think of anything worth the three Hail Marys and the three Lord’s Prayers the good priest habitually sentenced us with, after we spilled our dirty little secrets of not listening to our parents and stealing chalk from the teacher to play hop-scotch after school. Confession really seemed a waste of time back then.

Then I grew up, and for the most part I walked away from the religion to explore other paths. No other system of belief I became acquainted with included anything similar to confession, but I was fairly impressed by something I read while exploring the customs of one Native American tribe.

In the case mentioned in the story, a woman had unintentionally killed someone and had gotten away with her crime. When she confided her woes to an old shaman and told him of the guilt she felt, the shaman suggested she should spend thirty days alone inside a cave, eating unsalted foods and following other practices to purify her body and mind. This way, the shaman explained, she would avoid future repercussions of her act.

At the time the story made little sense to me, but as years went by – and as I had the opportunity to witness other pertinent situations – I understood the wisdom behind the old shaman’s suggestion: A crime with no confession and punishment takes root in the deeper part of ourselves, and triggers self-sabotage and repetitive patterns later on.

Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled into an online discussion which confirmed this concept once again. A young woman explained she had a terrible time the week before, because of something that weighed on her soul. Initially, she was unable to open up to anybody about it, and gloom wrapped around her like a blanket pulled too tight, making her feel overwhelmed and alone. Then, she finally decided to open up to her family and friends, told them what was bothering her, and was pleasantly surprised by the outpouring of love and understanding she received. Suddenly the sun broke through the clouds that had darkened her world, and everything was well again. Once she saw that others were able to forgive her, she also came to forgive herself.

We often keep harmful thoughts guarded inside of us, afraid they will bring us shame, or leave us vulnerable in a big, unforgiving world, but in reality, the world is usually ready to forgive us before we are able to forgive ourselves. The moment we open up and allow ourselves to see that external judges are not nearly as hard as our own inner one, and the sun still rises and sets after we have let the cat out of the bag, the process of healing begins.

Guarding a secret requires tremendous emotional energy, and leaves us feeling incomplete and unable to bring conflicts to a resolution. Once the "confession" has taken place, payment of dues is the next step toward healing. It is not uncommon to discover that others have been down the same path and experienced similar feelings; suddenly we are no longer alone against an unforgiving world.

Of course, "confession" of one’s perceived transgressions is not an exclusive Catholic benefit. One can open up to a friend, to a co-worker, or even to someone they have just met, and unload the weight before thinking of ways to make amends. They won’t qualify to receive communion, but their soul will, in due time, soar to greater heights.

A Tap on the Shoulder

“The bad things in life open your eyes to the good things you weren’t paying attention to before” ~ Author unknown

Yesterday was an average day – or at least that’s how it appeared at first. Nothing incredibly important or transcendental happened, one way or the other; no tragedies nor mind-blowing fortunes knocked on my door.

However, on second thought, yesterday was a wonderful day, although I wasn’t aware of just how blessed until about six in the evening, when I sat on my porch sipping a glass of iced tea and watched my daughter play in the yard.

Out in the distance I heard a siren; then two; finally one more – something serious had happened not too far from my house. I immediately said a small prayer for whoever was involved in the accident, and felt profoundly grateful that my whole family was home and I didn’t have to wonder about their safety.

Right then I realized that many unpleasant things happening around us are an opportunity to stop the madness and focus a moment of our day on gratitude and compassion. We are fast in prayer if something goes wrong in our lives - or if we are in need - but how often do we take a moment to just acknowledge what we have, and be grateful for the things and people we take for granted?

Gratitude and compassion walk hand in hand, and both are great reminders that we should appreciate our lives for what they are, and enjoy what we have.

Divine reminders come in different packages – the sound of distant emergency vehicles, a homeless person seeking a little change and a ray of hope, a lonely person craving a smile or a kind word – through each of them, God taps on our shoulder. We are always in such a rush that we easily overlook the incredible fortunes pouring down on us throughout each day; once we slow down and take notice, we realize the staggering amount of reasons we have to be grateful.

We spend countless hours of our lives telling others they should pay attention -- sometimes it would be good to talk in front of a mirror.

The Rocks in the Bowl

“The secret of happiness is to count your blessings while others are adding up their troubles.” ~ Author unknown


A couple of weeks ago I read an article about a lady who keeps two bowls of river rocks on her fireplace mantel, one filled with white rocks, and one filled with darker rocks. Every time something positive happens in her day, she switches one of the dark rocks with a white one to symbolize the positive occurrence, and each time something bad happens she takes the stone out and puts it back in its original bowl.

Quite intrigued with her idea, I also filled two bowls with rocks – twenty-eight in each container to symbolize a full lunar month – and since I didn’t have any white and dark ones, I used smooth rocks and jagged pebbles. My plan was to see how many of each type I would have in the bowl after one month.

The past two weeks have been uneventful for the most part, without particularly positive or negative events – a limbo of energies – but I still managed to move rocks in response to smaller events that normally would not have caught my attention. Then, as if Universe had finally awakened from slumber and decided it was time to light a little fire under the pot to make the water boil, a string of wonderful things came to pass yesterday, and I happily switched five of the jagged rocks with smooth ones.

Last night, after everyone went to bed, I stood in front of the mantel, and I looked at the two bowls of rocks; after two weeks, even after taking some out, I have successfully switched fifteen rocks! That means that on average, even including the days when nothing particularly good happened or something unpleasant came to pass, I had witnessed at least one positive thing for each day that had passed.

By all means, they weren’t all amazing events, and some of them were in fact small victories, but what seemed important was that I never would have noticed those subtle happy moments if it hadn’t been for the fact that everything else felt ‘stuck’. Just like one doesn’t notice a warm, sunny day during the summer when the warm, sunny days are a dime a dozen, but instantly feels transported to a heavenly place if such a day occurs in the midst of a colder, rainy season, sometimes we need to slow down and feel we are traveling on low gear to notice the smaller blessings.

My mom used to always tell me and my sister that it can’t be Christmas every day, and in a way I am glad it isn’t, for this way I don’t get to bypass the small joys. And the rocks in the bowl are getting smoother with each passing day.

The Power of a Single Touch

“The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.” ~ Frederick Buechner

Mostly anyone who has been following my daily blog knows, by now, that I am open to experiencing anything which will enhance my view of life, even when it comes to things that are still not scientifically proven.

This past Saturday, I attended a metaphysical fair, and I couldn’t help but notice that the vendor directly across the room from me took aura pictures. Never having seen one, but not totally discounting its possibilities, I decided to wait for my friend Donna to come by so we could have one taken together. My choice wasn’t a random one – Donna and I have been friends for over a decade, and our connection is almost tangible; it is not unusual for one to call the other out of nowhere, if either is experiencing any kind of stress, and it is indeed amazing how deeply we can connect during meditation. We have known of this special connection for years, but the time had come to put it to the test.

When Donna arrived, we sat side by side in front of the camera, and each was asked to lay one hand on a metal plate. We decided to connect the two free hands while the picture was taken. As soon as the photographer was done, Donna mentioned that we should take two pictures, so each of us could have a copy; in the couple of minutes between pictures we never let go of each other’s hand.

The result was stunning. Aside from the colors around our heads, the first photo showed only a very faint white light surrounding our hands, but the second photo was enough to take our breath away – the colors around our heads were the same, but the light around our connected hands had increased exponentially, both in brightness and in size!

Surely, many will find a thousand and one reasons to explain that phenomenon, as the human mind scrambles to find rational funnels to filter information through, but what counts is that no matter what happened and what caused it to be, something DID happen in the few minutes in between the first and the second picture being taken.

Regardless of how some view our energetic connection to others, simple laws of physics show that when two sources of energy come in contact, they connect or repulse each other; what I find amazing about all this, however, is how greatly our own light is increased by the connection. As we connect to others we create a “Christmas tree effect”- our own light might be dim when shining alone, but it gives a lovely glow when connected to other small bulbs.

This concept gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “There is power in numbers”, doesn’t it? Definitely something to think about.

The Nest and The Dandelion

“I am here for a purpose, and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink into a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply all my efforts to become the highest mountain of all, and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy.” ~ Og Mandino


As bothersome as they might appear to some, dandelions are quite interesting little flowers. Aside from their indisputable medicinal value as a natural diuretic, they are also very fascinating to observe – after living a short life as pretty yellow blooms, they morph into curious-looking, fluffy puffs on green stems, so delicate and light that even the softest spring breeze will carry their spores and deposit their seed on new ground.

At first thought, their purpose seems fairly ordinary: they sprout, live and reproduce, and then they die. But if one looks a little closer, and, like me, is fortunate enough to stumble upon something unusual, the dandelion’s purpose suddenly appears a little more interesting and, if you will allow me, a lot more meaningful.

As I was trimming one of the bushes in front of my porch yesterday, I found an old bird nest from last year. I gently pulled it out of its leafy enclosure and laid it on the porch railing meaning to throw it out when I was finished. As I carried it, I noticed a couple of tiny pieces of egg shell, a few gray and brown feathers, and, of all things, a few dandelion spores carefully pushed between the small twigs as if to provide insulation. I initially thought that maybe they had been carried and deposited inside the nest by the wind, but upon closer inspection I realized they had been part of the original construction project.

As meaningless as that discovery might sound, I thought it was extremely touching. The dandelions whose spores were used by the birds were not aware of this unusual turn of events, and died peacefully after letting their seed go off with the wind; for the baby birds, however, the soft, downy spores could have been what kept them comfortable and warm in an unsuspecting partnership of nature. And of all the pretty flowers that could have fulfilled such an important task, dandelions took home the prize; nature’s most humble - and often unpopular - little flower had a greater purpose to live than it was ever aware of.

Humans are no different. We are born, live and die, and all along we try to live our purpose as we perceive it. Many of us get downhearted at times, as comparison with some of our more fortunate peer leaves us feeling as if we are wasting our lives. We look at the roses among us with a silent sigh, and admire their beauty, and their fragrance, thinking that no matter how hard we try we will never be as good as they are. Nobody will ever stop in awe, staring at our velvety blossoms, and some might even step on us, or ignore we exist.

Nobody knows the true potential and purpose beyond a humble, anonymous life, sometimes not even ourselves; and yet, our existence will make a difference. The thorns of a beautiful rose could not have helped baby birds stay warm and safe, but the unwanted spores of an ordinary dandelion surely ensured a few more voices would join the early morning song.

I Know What You're Thinking...

“We simply assume that the way we see things is the way they really are or the way they should be. And our attitudes and behaviors grow out of these assumptions.” ~ Stephen Covey


My whole family often jokes about the fact that Angel, my parents’ cat, has forgotten he was ever a feline. Let me explain. Aside from living a golden life, the poor soul is given specific times when he is allowed to go out and get back home. No matter what time he is told to be back, he steps through the door at the exact time!

Angel was adopted nineteen years ago into a household of adults, with no children present in the home. In no time at all, he was crowned baby of the family – spoiled rotten and overly controlled. My parents and sister assume they know what he thinks and how he feels, and if I ever remind them he is a cat, from their reaction one would assume I have said the unthinkable.

Of course, as I am writing, I realize that I’m the pot calling the kettle back. Just yesterday, my daughter kept picking up our kitten, and was very adamant that he wanted to play with her – “hiding” into the fridge of her play kitchen was his idea of playing hide-and-go-seek, in her opinion. I told her to leave him alone several times, and then lost my patience. I told her that the kitten didn’t like it when someone picked him up constantly, and he wanted some space for himself. Now, was I reading the cat’s mind, or was I merely expressing what I would have liked in his place?

Our assumptions of what anyone aside from ourselves likes or feels are largely based on our individual perception. Our perception is often molded on a blueprint drawn overtime in our minds, and is hardly accurate or truthful. For example, let’s say that someone runs into a person they like a lot. If this individual says anything nice to them, they immediately assume this person likes them back, even if the object of their affection was merely being sociable.

Similarly, if someone is extremely insecure, they see betrayal lurking everywhere regardless of how loyal their partner is, or how much reassurance they are offered. Ultimately, we can’t assume anything. We can guess, but it would be wise to sit back and ask ourselves if our perception is likely to have been affected by our individual filters, which are created by our upbringing and our sense of self. As Peter Cajander, a writer, once said, nothing has any meaning except the one we give to it - everything simply is.