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/