The Time is Now

“I will act now. I will act now. I will act now. Henceforth, I will repeat these words each hour, each day, everyday, until the words become as much a habit as my breathing, and the action which follows becomes as instinctive as the blinking of my eyelids. With these words I can condition my mind to perform every action necessary for my success. I will act now. I will repeat these words again and again and again. I will walk where failures fear to walk. I will work when failures seek rest. I will act now for now is all I have. Tomorrow is the day reserved for the labor of the lazy. I am not lazy. Tomorrow is the day when the failure will succeed. I am not a failure. I will act now. Success will not wait. If I delay, success will become wed to another and lost to me forever. This is the time. This is the place. I am the person.” ~ Og Mandino

When I was younger, I hated Mondays. To me – and I felt justified in my feeling because most people I knew felt the same way – Mondays represented another long week to pass before finally crossing the threshold of a new weekend, when I could finally let my hair down and remember I was a human being.

One day, not too long ago, I got up on a particularly dreary Monday morning. It was cold and raining outside, and I had to go to the grocery store. Never mind the fact that I don’t particularly like shopping…on a day like this I would have been happy to do just about anything else at home instead than going out. So I didn’t; I dropped my daughter off at school and went back home. I looked for a list of excuses that would justify my lack of resolve – the closet REALLY needed straightening out, the kitchen floor HAD to be mopped, you name it, I thought of it…anything that could keep me from going out into the elements was welcome in my book, no matter how much I normally didn’t like the task.

The morning rolled along, and it was time to pick my daughter up from school. We got back, and I went to make coffee…I was out of sugar! No big deal, I thought, the creamer itself is fairly sweet, and surely I could enjoy coffee without the extra bit of sugar until that evening, when my husband could just bring some home from work. I drank my coffee and went to do a few other things around the house. I realized I was out of window cleaner…hmmm…a little vinegar could fix that, and the problem was solved. Then, it was time for dinner preparations; and suddenly, I remembered two ingredients I had to have to fix the meal I had already thawed meat out for. That was my final defeat; I got my daughter’s coat on and we went to the store. Not only did I have to go to the store in the end anyway, but now I even had to drag along a tired five-year-old who didn’t want to miss Dora the Explorer and couldn’t find a shoe. To top it all, it was raining even harder now, the temperature had dropped, and a hungry child is never a good companion to have at the check-out line, where candy sparkles from the shelves like diamonds waiting for a thief. The trip to the store which would have taken thirty minutes of my time in the morning turned into a messy journey, just because I allowed procrastination to set the tone.

When we perceive something as being unpleasant, our first instinct is to postpone the inevitable, even if we create a greater sense of stress for ourselves that way. No matter how hard we try to focus on other things, thoughts of challenges ahead are like clouds covering up our sunshine.

Whether we are dealing with health-related issues, situations with other people, or even a personal matter, very few people have the self-discipline necessary to take action immediately, if the effort or the confrontation can be pushed forward and not faced at that moment. Unfortunately, whatever is not approached and dealt with now will not disappear, but it will instead continue to amplify and get worse.

We have the power to control the majority of events unfolding in our lives. The first step is to take action when it’s needed. The best time is usually right now.

From the Words of a Gypsy: My Love Story

If I look back, and rewind the movie of my life long enough to glimpse at the last twenty years or so, I can see that my marriage was in the cards since before I met my husband, or, even better, it was mapped on the lines of my hand. Odd thing to say, you think? Well, listen to my story, and you might agree with me.

On a cold winter morning, a few weeks shy of Christmas 1986, I skipped school with a friend, and we went to hang out at Piazza Dei Miracoli, near the Leaning Tower. Bored as we were, we scanned the crowd of tourists brave enough to defy the weather in favor of snapping a few pictures, until we noticed an old woman, clad in traditional gipsy clothes, who asked if we were interested in having our palms read. We giggled and agreed.

The woman took my hand, and studied it for a few moments, then lifted her deep chocolate brown eyes to meet mine. “You are getting ready to go on a trip” she said “which will redirect the path you will follow”. Since I was preparing to go to London for the Christmas holidays, my attention was immediately piqued. “When you get back, you will be so enthusiastic from your vacation that you will seek ways to go back. A few months later, you will meet a man, you will marry him and will travel far together, and to see your family again you will embark on a long, long trip”.

After reading my friend’s palm the woman left without even collecting the few coins we had for her, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her words. To the ears of a dreamy teenager they went beyond the notes of a sweet melody, and I began to fantasize about this Mr. Wonderful who would allegedly sweep me off to a faraway land.

Months went by. I went on my trip and fell in love with London; deep down, I secretly hoped to be able to move there some day. That summer, my parents went to a different beach establishment than the one they normally went to, and I noticed it was right beside a morsel of beach owned by the American base in Tirrenia.

It wasn’t long – as I lay on the shore sunbathing – until I noticed a very handsome lifeguard staring in my direction. He nodded when he saw me looking back, and soon the smiles began. Still nursing my dream of moving to London, I jumped at the chance to practice my English, and after gathering all the courage I had, I went to the snack bar of the American establishment to get a soda.

My handsome lifeguard was there. So was the beach doggie, Boo-Boo. I leaned down to pad him, and the lifeguard smiled at me. I smiled back. He gave Boo-Boo most of the ham in his sandwich – a gesture that certainly earned him several points in my book. We began to talk, half broken English and half broker Italian. By the time I left, he had asked me on a date.

We went on our first date on June 16 1987, the night of celebration for St. Ranieri, the patron of Pisa. We watched fireworks and had pizza, and finally sealed that magical evening with a kiss. We continued to date until John left Italy in March 1988; I followed him a few months later in November 1988.

That day was a bittersweet one for me – I was following the love of my life, yet I was saying goodbye to all I had loved and held dear until then. That was twenty years ago - John and I will celebrate our twenty-first wedding anniversary this spring. As a couple we have encountered some hard moments, but have conquered each stone and moved forward together. The old gypsy’s prediction still lives on.

Links of Light (Repost)

We can't all like everyone all the time. But we can work harder at tolerance, compassion, empathy, generosity, and a genuine desire to recognize that we are all in this together.” ~Nicsautoservice

I can honestly say that I like just about everyone I run into – not necessarily because I agree with their views or ways of life, but rather because I have come to understand we are all equally important and all share a common denominator: As Wayne Dyer so perfectly phrased it, we are all spiritual beings on an earthly trip.

We simply approach life differently. We look at things through the filters of socio-cultural structures and personal upbringing, and not one brain is wired exactly like another. Ultimately, we are the product of two factors: personality and environment. When it comes to human beings, I believe that it is more accurate to assume we are a product of Nature plus Nurture, rather than Nature vs. Nurture. We are separated by distance, genes, cultural imprints, language, political and religious affiliations, yet our basic makeup is the same for all.

Let’s look at the concept of light for a moment - light can be natural or artificial. Natural light can be produced by the sun, the moon, or fire. Artificial light can be identified as belonging to even more sub-categories – lightbulbs, for example, can be of different shapes, intensity and color. Specific types of light are used for different purposes, and are adapted to fit individual taste and need, but they are ultimately all sources of light produced by raw energy.

Our light quotient is what makes us all different yet alike. Some of us shine brighter than others, some are crafted in different shapes and colors, some are meant to be dimmer and more subdued, and some put out psychedelic flashes of light for shock value, but aside from our output and physical appearance we are all superficially different manifestations of the same core of light; when we connect to one another, we all shine as one source.

Even more eye-opening is the concept that we are indeed all pieces of the same puzzle, regardless of the position we hold within the design. We might be a corner piece, a frame piece or an inside piece, but each of us is unique and irreplaceable in the greater scheme of things. Even those we don’t like or get along with; those we judge and accuse; those we deem inferior or useless. When all is said and done, and the earthly illusion of superiority and inferiority is shed, we all feel, laugh, hurt, love and cry; we are all vulnerable and prone to being scared when no one is watching; we all smile when something good happens.

Regardless of which masks we wear, or what float we parade on, we are all part of the same Carnival.