there's a new game in town . . .

Recently Abraham has started plugging a new process. I like to call it The Alphabet Game.

You start with the letter A and come up with a word that begins with that letter that is a feeling word and vortex-y sounding. Appreciation is a really good one, and they use it as an example almost always when they describe the game. I like adventure, too, and allowing. Then you go to B, using words like basking or . . . well, I always have a hard time with B. Beauty isn't really a feeling word, but it always occurs to me. Beloved is nice; I came up with that one today. Then you go to C, and on through the alphabet all the way to Z (zest).

When Abraham plays it with a workshop participant, they often say, "I'm really interested to hear your X word." I fantasize about being at a workshop and suggesting xenophilia, which would be more appropriate if it meant "love of all kinds of things" instead of "love of foreign people and cultures." Still, it could work.

I did it today during a massage, and ended up feeling really really wonderful by the time I got to zest. Really blissful (there's a good B word). So I decided to do it again during another massage and it didn't have quite the same impact. I suppose I play too many word games on the computer: all sorts of words would pop into my head for different letters (bulimia, for example, or horrific). So I'll limit that game to once per day unless I'm really really bored.

Then I thought about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. We're on Season 5, and I had forgotten how creative Glory's minion is in his glorifications of his lady. "Yes, your silky smoothness," pops into my head.

So I went through the alphabet and came up with words that describe Jessica and naming her positive attributes, texting them to her one at a time all the way to Z between massage sessions. That was fun. (J is for jiggly jugs, in case you're wondering; though I did come up with a more serious J contribution. She does have really wonderful breasts.) In the original game (vortex words, not Jessica words), my favorite J word is Jessica, and I do get a nice warm fuzzy whenever I get there.

By this time you might be sick of hearing how awesome Jessica is. Well, she is pretty fucking awesome anyway, whether you like it or not. ;) Abraham says we should use any excuse to get into the vortex, and she is by far the easiest, most accessible excuse I have.

That's not to say that she's perfect. We have disagreements, and boredom and restlessness at times, but even in the midst of that, I know who she really is even when she's not feeling her best. She knows who I am even when I'm not feeling my best. Our relationship is built on who we really are, not what mood we're in at the moment, and that brings us to better moods around each other.

Today, in a workshop I was listening to, Abraham said that we look for people who bring us into the vortex consistently to be our mates, in which case most of us should marry our dogs. If I could marry Dmitri, I . . . ew. He's a dog. He's the best dog ever, but he's still a dog.

I think that's all for today. Happy alphabetizing!

compatible neuroses

I was thinking this morning about how wonderful I feel with Jessica. Whenever I feel less-than-good, I picture us driving somewhere fun, her hair framing her face the way it does, sunglasses on and looking carefree.

I didn't feel bad, just a little sleepy, but that image brought me into warm fuzzy happiness the way it always does.

I imagined talking to Abraham about her, about how she's all I need to think about to get into the vortex, and how my plan is to keep that up until my point of attraction improves all over the place, not just with our relationship. I pictured myself saying, "My friend Kathy says that the key to a good relationship is compatible neuroses," and laughing, and then I realized that that's not the key to the relationship that I want. It's not the key to the relationship I have.

The key to our relationship is how easy it is for me to be myself with her. My true self; not the current physical mental apparatus that I am, but the ideal that is the real me.

I've been thinking a lot about expectations. Abraham says, "When your desire feels so big that it feels unreasonable, it is not on the verge of manifestation. When your desire feels to you like it is the next logical step, then it is on the verge of manifestation." (Ask and It Is Given, p. 122)

I can't say that I'm expecting to win the lottery tomorrow, as nice as it would be. What I can say is that I feel way better now than I ever have in my life. I can look back and see how I started in a dark and cold place (overall--I did have happy times and good friends, but my overall outlook and opinion of myself wasn't fantastic) and gradually grew more and more into who I am today. That lets me know that there is one thing that I can be sure of: as long as I'm working to feel better and to be more myself, I will feel better and better, and be more myself.

The next logical step is always to feel a little better. Whether it will bring great manifestations tomorrow or next week or next decade, I have no idea. But I know I have an amazing life to look forward to; a pretty damn good life right now.

I expect amazing things. I see amazing things--in myself, in my lover, in myself when I'm with my lover. In the snow on the ground and the dogs on the sofa. In my warm woolen socks. In the books I read and the music I hear.

How could I help but be positive when I look around and see what I see, when it so recently wasn't there? Good things come. Good things are coming.

Life is good.

snow day extended dance remix

Jerry and Esther don't seem the type of people to get bored much. Abraham tells stories of Esther feeling overwhelmed, and of them both attracting unwanted events by ignoring their gut feelings or focusing on what's unwanted, but they're never snowed in for days on end, wondering what to do next. There's always something to do, and they're generally ready to do it.

Today is Day Two of being snowed in here in Durham. Yesterday we played Wii, watched TV, did laundry and dishes, and generally putzed around to our hearts' content. Today I'd like to do some vortex-y kind of work, but I'm not sure where to start. I've focus-wheeled myself dry, so it's time to thumb through the processes in the back of Ask and It Is Given.

What would be nice is a simple, step-by-step process to lose resistance, to let go and allow myself to stop pushing away the success I'd like. Don't get me wrong--I'm happy, and I'm having an amazing life, but if there were a sure-fire process to go through to manifest whatever I'd like to come next, that sounds like fun.

Abraham has, of course, listed 22 processes to reduce resistance and get more vortex-y in the back of Ask and It Is Given, complete with suggestions for when to use which process. I'm imagining, though, something more like a program--seven days of focus wheels followed by three of the "Wouldn't it be nice if . . ." game, then scripting for a bit . . . a sure-fire way to chip away resistance and line up with my inner being.

Wouldn't it be nice if there were such a program, and it worked like clockwork? Instant Enlightenment and all that?

Or would it be?

Part of the joy of life is its unpredictable nature. Another part is looking forward to what you know is coming, of course, and expecting the best.

When I was twelve I was baptized. This process was supposed to wash me of my sins, freeing me to be right with god and, most importantly, guaranteeing me a place in heaven as long as I didn't "fall away" from the faith. It was a definable process in our church: five steps to salvation that we could all recite glibly to our friends from other denominations who left out one crucial step or another (usually baptism, according to us). Hear. Believe. Repent. Confess. Be baptized. Poof, you're a Christian.

The problem was I felt worse after the baptism part. It meant I was an adult and responsible for my own actions, unless I was wrong, still innocent, in which case maybe it didn't take and I'd need to get re-baptized at 20 or so, which I thought about doing many times. Lots of people I knew did that, fearing that they didn't know what they were doing when they were younger and wanting to make sure that they were right with god.

That's the beauty of a defined process, though: I knew that I'd feel the same if I was baptized again; I knew I did it technically right the first time. How you feel doesn't play into the assurance of salvation at all. Which means that if you didn't do it right, the only way to know would be to think about it and decide logically.

Not easy for a young woman who hardly knew her own mind.

With Abraham, though, you're not shooting for salvation. You're just shooting for feeling better, which is easy to tell because . . . well, you feel better. Relief is a key word here.

Sometimes the feeling better is harder to define than others. The biggest feeling of relief I ever had was in giving up my religion, yet it terrified me. Terror is a step up from feeling dead, and it was a huge relief to realize that I had been right all along; there was no point in trying to explain to myself why things made sense when they obviously didn't.

So today I'm a little bored, or feeling like I might get bored, and what feels better than bored? Interest. Excitement. Awareness. Surety. Appreciation. Lots of things, really. I waxed philosophical and it didn't hold my interest just now (sorry if I bored you, too); in fact, it reminded me that I've let go of my past and it's way more fun to look to the future. It's way more fun to look at the present, in fact, and think of all the stuff I appreciate.

Three dogs, three cats and a beautiful woman to share my holidays and snow days with--very much appreciated.

I got Scrivener working this morning (command line Linux is not a strong point for me, which is why I use Ubuntu), which opens up possibilities for working on my novel or cataloging ideas for other stuff I want to do and write.

My girlfriend's dad saw my copy of Ask and It Is Given on the coffee table and it turns out he's really into Abraham. I have a new fantasy of getting him tickets to see them for his birthday.

I got a math drawing kit for Christmas, which makes it easier to draw recognizable circles for my focus wheels.

There is no end of interesting noises that Casper, the French bulldog, makes, awake or asleep.

I've been wanting a little time off work; today is the sixth day I have off, and after tomorrow I'm off again until Sunday, after which we're going to visit my brother in Connecticut for a few days.

We have leftover lasagna and cheesecake in the fridge.

I'm still in my pajamas. It's nearly 1:00.

I got a refund check from my health insurance company in the mail.

I can deposit checks using my phone camera.


My girlfriend reheated my coffee for me without me asking. She's very sweet that way. <3

My journal is waiting for me to do some fun Abraham-type processes, complete with new compass and favorite fountain pen. And these processes aren't a set do-it-right kind of thing, but rather a way to get yourself to feel better. Relief, joy, appreciation, assuredness, optimism, excitement, and love are all within me, and if I take a few minutes, none of it is too difficult to find.

And that's today. Happy snow day. :)

being ok with where you are

Abraham has pointed out a fear that I myself have:

If I'm happy with where I am, won't the universe say, "Oh, she's happy now; no point in giving her what she wants"?

Silly fear, but it stays with me.

It reminds me of my ex getting onto me to clean out my closet, so I finally did, labeling a big box "Skinny Clothes" and putting them in the attic, where they stayed and got even less stylish than they were when I put them there. Months later she talked me into getting rid of them at a yard sale, after which I lost 20 pounds and had to go and buy new skinny clothes, which thankfully I'm still wearing.

I get that I can't accept anything new and wonderful in my life until I accept where I am, and I've seen it happen time and again, in my own life and in others, in big ways and small.

I really do like where I am, but I still hold on to the hope that I'll win the lottery and never have to commute to Apex to work at the McSpa. I'll spend my new free time and money getting my car up to date on its maintenance schedule. And having its sun roof fixed. Or trading it in on a convertible; depends on the size of the jackpot.

I have moments when I'm green with envy over my friends' new toys--mostly Apple products, and mostly when I have PMS--and other times, when I pick up the toys, I realize that the iPad is heavier than I thought it would be, and the iPhone 4 is remarkably similar to my iPhone 3G except that it's shaped slightly differently and can record video (also--it's still not available in white). I'm not sure if disappointment in shiny new technology that I've yet to acquire really helps me be happy where I am . . . but it is less of a big deal that I don't have it yet, so I'll appreciate that.

I am one who, when I don't want to think about something and am trying to cheer myself up about it, buries my head in the sand and pretends nothing is wrong. Today, instead, I checked my online balances, discovered an extra $200 in a little-used account, and scheduled payments to all of my creditors so that I won't be behind on any bills at all come Christmas Eve. Years ago I had my power turned off regularly not because I couldn't afford to pay the bill, but because I forgot.

So that's good.

I still have a little income envy, though. PMS is slow to leave this month, perhaps, or maybe I really am too discontented with where I am and need to keep working on my emotional state when I think about money. I started to do a focus wheel just now, to move myself from envy to being ok with where I am, and I'm wondering . . . is it ok to only be ok with where you are because you think it's temporary?

I have a funny feeling that if I really thought it was temporary I would already be ok with where I am.

Is my job to convince myself that I'm ok, or to convince myself that it's temporary?

When I was young I was convinced that I was fat, and now I weigh more than I did then and realize how skinny I was.

I also thought I didn't have as much money as I wanted, and now I have less.

Yet I look around my house and see all the nice things I have. A giant flat screen television, two really nice guitars and three cheap ones, a blue ukulele, tons of working appliances, a BMW in the driveway (used, to be sure) . . . all of which I appreciate.

I've noticed lately that instead of bemoaning how long it takes Google Maps to load on my phone, it's a joke to see if I can find where I'm going before it can. Generally speaking, I can as long as I'm not going the opposite direction. And the parts of my phone that do work properly I find myself thinking how cool that is. (Not to mention that I replaced it with my girlfriend's hand-me-down same model phone, which has a working headphone jack--bonus.)

So I think what I'll appreciate today is how much better I'm getting at appreciating what I have. What's the point of beating myself up about stuff that only bothers me now and then, when life is really good in the meantime?

Christmas money might go to buy new tires, but I appreciate tires that hold air, and I appreciate the car that they go on.

Sometimes when I talk to myself like this, pointing out what all I have that's wonderful in my life, I feel like I'm consoling myself because I don't have everything yet. I'll never get everything, though, which is part of the joy of life. Today I don't feel consoling at all, but happy, and I appreciate my happiness.
Aforementioned girlfriend just texted me to say she's on her way home, and that's the best part of all.

I never feel like I'm consoling myself when I think about Jessica. She's fucking amazing. I tell her regularly that I won the girlfriend lottery, and I mean it. She's sexy and smart and fun to be with. She's proud to be with me no matter what company we're in. And I know I've mentioned this before, but when we're driving somewhere, and I look over at her with her sunglasses on and the window down, she looks so amazing and carefree and in control that I can't help but feel rich. The world is my oyster, and she is the pearl.

Damn. Gettin' myself all misty-eyed.

I'm not just ok with where I am. I'm fucking thrilled.

i think i think too much . . .

'Tis the holiday season, and with holidays come less work and more bills, at least at the McSpa. Well, that's not true: tips have been great, but we're closed (no pay or tips) for four prime money-making days in the next couple of weeks. Strange how these events coincide.

I've been doing a lot of focus wheels lately, with general improvement in attitude which waxes and wanes depending on whether I focus on what's in front of me (my bank account) or what's inside me (happiness and love and other sappy shit). So, I follow Abraham's advice and focus on what makes me happy until I feel better, and then I deal with the money. Even Abraham says ignoring the money altogether is not a good idea, and they're all about only thinking good thoughts.

What's weird is that whenever I think about money too much, and try to focus on good stuff and believe that more comes, I get this urge to work on my novel, which I've been ignoring. The reason I've been ignoring it is because I don't want the expectation of more money to be attached to writing a best-selling blockbuster-type Great American Novel that changes the way the world looks at everything that's important to me.

Also, if I do get the idea that that's where more money will come from, there's the waiting for it--the idea nothing new will come until I finish--but I'm waiting anyway, so what's the difference?

Wouldn't it be nice if I could guarantee that more money would come if I worked on my book? And from a separate source, like a winning lottery ticket?

My girlfriend, by the way, has suggested that maybe I do a focus wheel about obsessing over money too much. There are many reasons I love her, including common sense. It doesn't hurt that she's super-hot, too.

I have this weird thing, the idea that when something becomes my livelihood, it becomes work and thus is no longer fun. I've never had a livelihood that was really fun, though I do enjoy massage, so it's a completely unfounded belief. The flip side of this is the idea that if something is fun, it inherently won't bring money.

I can see why Abraham recommends just focusing on good thoughts and not worrying about where the things you want come from. "Follow your bliss," a la Joseph Campbell, and you will allow the universe to fall into place around you rather than trying to force it.

I kind of suck at that sometimes. It's easier to worry and work, or stick my head in the sand and pretend nothing's going on. This is not vortex-y, life-is-good behavior.

One thought I find comforting is the idea that I don't have to stay happy all the time to have an overall happy life. Oh, the pressure of happiness! I can't take it! And when I remove the pressure to feel happy, I feel relief, which is closer to happiness than trying to be happy.

And it's ok to not worry about money even if you don't have enough as long as you're not stupid about it. I have been stupid about it in the past--spending money I didn't have, ignoring bills and buying toys to comfort myself, which just makes me worry more and push thoughts of fiscal responsibility to the back of my head. Worrying really doesn't get you anywhere. I can see where it has taken my mother, and that reminds me poignantly to just do what I can and remain calm, enjoying everything that's good about my life.

And what is good about my life? Pretty much everything. I look up and see Jessica frowning at her computer typing, her hair falling out of her braid and over her face in the way that I love. I'm still in my robe at 10:30 in the morning, drinking coffee and am about to enjoy biscuits and gravy on a lovely slushy snow day. My cat is actually lying next to me rather than climbing all over me. I have two massage appointments today at the corporation where I go every other week, both with nice people whom I enjoy working on. We're having Hungarian mushroom soup with friends tonight (yum). We have a live Christmas tree with blue LED lights and tons of presents under it. Casper, the French bulldog, is meditating, while Meeko, the mutt, is taking up as much room as she can in the bed they're sharing. Dmitri, the husky, survived his Furminator treatment yesterday, and is sacked out on the wood floor. Massive Attack is on the stereo.

And I have the beginnings of a novel I really want to write in this very computer.

We were going to wait until January to start the revision process on our novels, but I feel a little restless about it. I have an urge to write.

And thus I follow my bliss, and let the money worry about itself.

deep thots

While doing a couple of focus wheels, I kept thinking about a post my friend Ram made on FaceBook yesterday:

Shared from Opening the Hand of Thought: Foundations of Zen Buddhist Practice

Enlightenment is not like a sudden realization of something mysterious. Enlightenment is nothing but awakening from illusions and returning to the reality of life.

Yesterday at 3:44am via Kindle ·

• Ram That concept is a complete disappointment... Reminds me (not sure why) of this: http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1655415,00.html

The link is to an article  about Mother Teresa, and how she seems to have never left her dark night of the soul (a la St. John of the Cross, if you're familiar with the concept. If not, go here).

When I left Christianity, and even before, I dreamed of enlightenment--a life in which I knew I was one with the Universe and could see the strings tying us all together. It would come suddenly, like it did to Neo at the end of The Matrix, and afterward life would still have its trials, but I would be master of them.

I searched my own scriptures--literature and commentaries on Eastern religions--for evidence of this. I became a huge fan of Aldous Huxley and his concept of a perennial philosophy, and of Alan Watts in general. I'm still a fan of these.

I love the concept of there being some universal truth that we keep knocking at the door of, that keeps rising up throughout history despite man's attempts to hide it and so to control his fellow men.

I also love the concept of wu wei, the idea of doing-without-doing, or non-doing, that Watts describes so eloquently in his book, Tao: The Watercourse Way.

Both these men are proponents of being present, of being in the here and now, of knowing who you are and where you are and living right now, not in the borrowed troubles of yesterday and tomorrow. They're both also proponents of the concept that the truth, the best, the most perfect is within you rather than without.

I read these sorts of books for years, picking up more from some than from others, and I still delve into them occasionally and love the concepts that become more clear to me because of them.

So how did I move from this being my primary philosophical material to listening to a middle-aged woman from the Midwest speaking from her own "higher self"?

Abraham speaks more simply, which I need sometimes. Sometimes--most of the time, actually--I like deep thoughts, and philosophical concepts, and to make connections between disparate ideas and speakers, reinforcing my ideas of what a few universal truths might be. Sometimes, though, I want a pick-me-up, a plain-talking how-to manual complete with written exercises on how to be happier, how to be me.

Joseph Campbell advised, "Follow your bliss." How is that different from Esther/Abraham's advice that the most important thing is to feel good? I used to wonder if "feeling good" the way they spell it out was shallow or hedonistic; truly feeling good, though, is neither.

It's fulfilling.

It's interesting.

It's joyous.

It's fun.

It's why we came here.

I don't know what Ram's thinking. (Yeah, I know it's a weird name. His full name is Ramage. Not Ramage-pronounced rah-majh, Indian-style, but Ramage like the power inflicted when ramming something. Deal.) I know that if I had posted something like that seven years ago, soon after leaving Christianity, if FaceBook had existed at the time, I would have been hoping that enlightenment, like salvation, would come suddenly, like the second coming, like Enlightenment to Neo, and that it would be visited upon me when I least expected it, like Christ coming "like a thief in the night," after paying appropriate penance--no, not penance, but the penance-like activity of meditation--and . . . well, it was all tangled up like that. Basically, it would come suddenly, and as a blessing, from outside, even though I knew in my head it was supposed to come from within. The idea of chopping wood or carrying water afterward seemed both noble and mundane.

Abraham's idea of being in the Vortex is my new picture of Enlightenment. Maybe Enlightenment is the state of being in the Vortex more often than not.

When I was a nurse in New Orleans my friend Lucy told me, when I complained that I wasn't enlightened yet, that she thought I was already enlightened. I tried to give the credit to Jesus, that I was conscious of how I thought and felt and acted because of him. I'm just as conscious now, and a little more honest. When I feel my own "dark night of the soul," I take it upon myself to get myself in a better place, rather than waiting for special dispensation from god.

I'm not saying that I'm better than Mother Teresa, by any means, in that regard. Realizing, though, that god isn't just in me but is me, though, gives me a lot more responsibility for how I'm feeling about god, and how god's feeling about me, for that matter. I've found that realization pretty life- and perspective-changing, and it gets a little more so the more I practice that sort of self-empowerment.

Life isn't about putting in years of suffering to come to a reward later--suffering through meditation to come to enlightenment, or suffering through persecution to make it to god's Heaven.

My dad used to say that his black-eyed peas tasted better because he's a Christian than they would if he weren't. Perhaps his faith led him to appreciate black-eyed peas better than I ever could. I don't know.

I do know, though, that the things that I appreciate are better when I'm actively appreciating them. (Please don't ever ask me to appreciate black-eyed peas. Yuck.)

I appreciate my life. I appreciate my girlfriend (she's fucking amazing; have I mentioned that lately?). I appreciate the tips I get at work. And with every moment of appreciation, those great things become even greater. The tips getting better are even quantifiable.

With every new realization, clarification, or samadhi-moment, comes the knowledge that there's that much more that I don't know. And what's really beautiful is that it's beautiful.

There are times that I want to know everything all at once.

There are more times that I really love the act of discovery, which wouldn't be possible if I knew everything at once.

And I think that's all I have to say today. Life is good.

focus wheels

I'd been struggling a bit with the idea that I'll get discouraged with the whole alignment-with-source-energy thing eventually, and just quit. Or else I might struggle and struggle and never be able to change my vibrational setpoint, and spend the rest of my life somewhere between frustration and hope and never allow any physical manifestation. I've never manifested riches or a best-selling novel before, and physical evidence (or lack thereof) does tend to weigh heavily on my beliefs.

I was thinking and thinking about this, and yesterday in my car Abraham spoke to the very topic. It's all about raising your vibrational setpoint, getting to expectation, and until yesterday I didn't have much of a grasp on how to do that. I had some vague ideas, but only vague plans to implement those ideas in my life. Yesterday's listen gave me the impetus to start today, and I am having a really good day now.

The pithy statement that Abraham made in the middle of his spiel on the whole matter is this:

"The Universe is responding to your vibration, and your vibration is a habit you can change."

You can look at it as a habit, or as Law of Attraction bringing the same thoughts to you that you currently tend to think, but it all boils down to the same thing: find any way you can to think better thoughts and feel better feelings, and keep doing it until that's the habit, or what the universe brings to you, or whatever.

You've got to admit, you pretty much get what you expect, if not in specifics, at least in life in general. Think about the saying, "Life is hard." People who say that generally have hard lives, or at least perceive their lives as hard. (Voltaire is credited [possibly falsely] with replying to the question, "Compared to what?")

Even if a higher vibrational setpoint doesn't bring any physical evidence of an improved life, I can't imagine a better life than one spent always expecting the best and never being attached to when or how it might come. I like happy people, and I like being one of them. I'm doing what I can to stay that way, and to get happier and happier as my life progresses.

Abraham's quote above reminds me of something else he's said: A belief is only a repeated thought, and a truth is only a repeated belief. If we want to look at truth as something that we can see and show to others on this physical plane, or document with news stories or historical data, we can think of it as a post-manifestational belief. In other words, if what's physically real is truth, and people generally get what they expect, then truth is only a belief held long enough, firmly enough to bring about physical stuff.

So I'm going about changing my beliefs, and I'm taking Abraham's advice to just keep slogging away at them until they're more in alignment with what I want them to be. Abraham recommended focus wheels to help change that sort of thing (in a different conversation than the one noted above), and suggested that ten or fifteen focus wheels later the individual should feel a tangible shift in alignment.

So I did two today. If you're not familiar with focus wheels, it's Process #17 in Ask and It Is Given. If you don't have a copy, a Google search will yield all sorts of instructions, instructional videos and templates to make your very own focus wheel.

The belief/desire I started with for the first one is this: "I fear I can never change my vibration. I want to change my vibrational setpoint." I wrote that at the top of a page, drew a big circle with a smaller circle inside it, and wrote my desired outcome in the smaller circle: "I can and will be a match to source energy."
I then wrote these twelve statements around the wheel, beliefs I already have, each growing stronger than the last due to the improved emotion I felt from the last:
1. In a lot of ways my life is pretty damn good already.
2. I like how I feel about changes in my beliefs that I've already made.
3. The teachings of Abraham resonate truth in me.
4. I like how I feel when I think that I'm source energy.
5. I feel that I really am source energy, and when I remember that I feel strong and powerful.
6. If I really am source energy (which I do believe), then of course I can come into alignment with myself.
7. I don't have to figure this all out in one day.
8. I can relax and know that I really am changing my vibration.
9. I like feeling happy.
10. I like thinking that I really can change my life by changing my beliefs.
11. I know how to change how I feel.
12. The only thing I need to focus on is changing how I feel.

I then drew another circle around my desired belief in the middle, which sounded a lot more plausible by this point.

I thought of a couple more focus wheels I wanted to do then, and was so excited by the time I finished the second one that I didn't feel the need to do the third. The statement is in my notebook for me to do one when I feel the need to. I'll keep pulling myself up to these feelings until they're my new norm and I can reach even higher.

So here's the second one:
belief/desire: "I fear I will get bored with Abraham and return to my old negative ways, or stall at a midpoint on the feeling better/getting aligned journey. I want to continue to feel better and better for the rest of my life."
In the center of the circle I wrote, "I expect more and more fun and familiarity with the Law of Attraction and using it to my advantage."
Then something interesting happened when I started to write around the wheel. Here are my statements:
1. I really, really like working with Abraham's concepts.
2. It's easy for me to practice anything as long as I find it interesting.
3. Things are always interesting as long as they feel good, and feeling good is the whole point of Abraham's teachings.
4. I'm interested today, and that's all the really matters.
5. It's fun to find parallels and examples in my life and others' lives that demonstrate the Law of Attraction.
6. It's fun to develop my own beliefs and find my own truths.
7. I only have to hang on to the parts that resonate with me, and all the good parts do.
8. It's really not about following Abraham at all, but about following my self.
9. I love trusting my self over any one else.
10. I love the idea of being in the vortex; it's my old idea of enlightenment (I was very interested in Eastern religions for years).
11. I can only find ultimate truth within myself, and I now know it's there; I've always felt it's there.
12. I love the idea that love and joy and peace and freedom are all the same, and all within my self.

Then I went back to circle the statement I had written in the middle, and decided I liked another better:

I expect my joy to increase and to always be fascinated by life and the truth I find within myself. There is no truth without joy, and no joy without truth.

And now I feel like basking. So I think I shall.

it's all good news

The good news:

I completed NaNoWriMo! 50,000 words in 30 days (or less), and I did it. Not only that, but I did it using concepts I learned from Abraham-Hicks.
I've long been discouraged by writing books that say things like, "When the going gets tough, the tough get writing," or some such nonsense. They're well-meaning, I know, and I believe they're operating under the basic premise that if you write when you don't feel like it, you'll find yourself in the groove soon enough and it won't be a problem.
The problem with this approach, for me, is that it points out that there will be tough going on your project, at some point. I know there likely will be tough spots to work through, but pointing that out when I'm first getting started is hardly motivating.
Also, if I am having a tough time, telling myself to just slog through it even though I don't feel like it inspires my inner rebel. "Slog through it?" I say. "I don't think so!" and so my creative juices freeze up on purpose just to prove that they can.
So when I got stuck last month writing, I decided two things:
1. It's ok to take a day off.
2. I'll concentrate on how much I enjoy writing instead of just trying to slog through when I don't feel like it.
I did do some slogging, though, and I found that it was easy to move into enjoying it because of those two decisions.

I do, in fact, enjoy writing. Even when the story isn't going where I think it was supposed to go, I enjoy putting words on the page, feeling my characters' emotions (good or bad), imagining how the book will turn out after finishing touches, and ignoring the urge to fix everything the first time around because it just slows a person down. At least, that's what I've heard from Anne Lamott, who is an enthusiastic proponent of the idea of writing shitty first drafts.
So now I have a lovely first draft that needs a lot of work, but the basic idea is there. Is definitely there, and that's farther than I've ever gotten up to this point, and it's exciting.
Good news number two: My mom invited Jessica to come to Thanksgiving. Of course, the invitation was extended after I'd committed to work that week and we'd invited Jessica's father over for Thanksgiving lunch, so we didn't travel, but she invited her, and apologized for . . . well, I'm not sure specifically for what, but she definitely apologized.
She left it all on my voicemail Wednesday, and I spoke to her Thanksgiving day after writing a long email Wednesday night explaining about my beliefs, which she hadn't read at that point. I'm still not sure if she's read it; her email wasn't working at the time. I've decided I'll just let it lay, or lie, or whatever, and be open to discuss the email if she brings it up. So my mom and I are speaking now, and there haven't been any more warnings about AIDS or questions about where both of us went wrong for me to end up a lesbian.
Good news #3: I have leftover curry. Yum.
Good news #4: This bit didn't feel like good news at the time, but it's actually very good news now that I've thought about it.
During November, I didn't blog, didn't listen to much Jerry & Esther, and went on vacation a bit. As a result, I didn't practice my affirmations or other thought skills. No processes, not much of anything except curiosity about what would happen in the novel I'm writing next.
The result? Not only did my overall income drop because of fewer hours worked, but my tips were noticeably lower as well. Noticeably.
Quick results.
And this is good news because . . .?
Because it reminds me that what I think really does affect what goes on in my life. Focus on the negative, attract more negative, push away the positive. Focus on the positive--miracles happen. :)
So I'm starting my affirmations again, stuff like, "I average $20/hour in tips."
I also realized that there's a very big part of me that thinks that even if the Law of Attraction stuff is true, there's no way I'll figure out how to use it to my advantage, because I never have. I've started using focus wheels to shift my beliefs regarding that. You can find some templates for focus wheels and other Abraham-Hicks processes here.
So it's a good thing, really. I see proof that the Law of Attraction works in both directions, and I can see proof that I've used it in both directions. This inspires me to use it for good.
I'd also like to say that Jessica is totally down with practicing the Law of Attraction stuff with me, and we've made some affirmations and a positive aspects page to get started with. It was more fun than watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which, if you know me, is saying a lot, and it makes me happy that it's something we can do together. Also, it makes me happy that it makes sense to her to be conscious of how and what she's thinking, and to realize that it affects not only her attitude but her life at large. We're good for reminding each other of these things, and when I was down in the dumps about the temporary slower influx of money, she suggested I listen to some Abraham to cheer myself up. Very cool. Plus, it worked.
I think that's all for today. :) Happy December!

writing writing writing

NaNoWriMo marches on. Today my word count should be 13336. It is not. It's 8944.

So I've been reading advertisements from Burt Goldman and his Quantum Jump stuff. I imagine he doesn't teach anything I don't know as far as technique goes--visualization, relaxation, etc., but the idea in general is neat. He posits that there are an infinite number of universes in which we exist, so it's a simple matter of finding the you that's doing what you want to do in their universe and talk to them.

Now, I think that's just hogwash. If I could really travel to an alternate universe and talk to myself as, say, a successful novelist, who's to say that the me in the alternate universe would know what's going on and be expecting me? So if alternate universes do exist and there's a J.K. Rowling version of me in one, I doubt if she'd be waiting around to give me advice.

However, I do think it's a good idea to ask yourself what to do to do what you want to do. I read an interesting article last night about biocentrism, and now I want to read the book. It's in queue for this month's audible.com download. The concept is that time is an illusion we create to explain change, and that when we die, we just are, time-free. This fits in nicely with Abraham's notion that we are still our higher selves while we're in our bodies. Note: this is not a new age book, but a physics and biology book, and some of the concepts are mind-stretching in a good way. So--could I communicate with timeless Faithy? Who knows. It will be fun to learn about; fun to try. Maybe I'll try it with a ouija board.

Some of my favorite stories about hypnosis (really, this isn't a tangent) are stories from the early days of neurolinguistic programming, and from Erickson's days of experimental hypnotherapy. One claim, from the NLP people, was of an experiment in which they convinced the hypnotized person that they were an accomplished violinist. During the trance, they played as well as Itzak Perlman or the like. I have no idea whether they could play at all prior to the session; it is romantic to think that it was their first encounter with a violin, but I suspect they had at least a little skill beforehand. I would love to hook up with someone who's had that sort of experience and try it myself. My favorite story about Erickson is of inducing a trance in a man whom Erickson had no idea how to proceed with his therapy. He then asked the man how to best proceed, and then the patient spelled out for him, step-by-step, exactly how best to help him.

I have tried self-hypnosis for these sorts of things, with mediocre results at best. It's partially my desire for a short cut to where I want to be--just plug in the software, Matrix-style, and, boom! I'm a novelist. And a rock star.

Another angle, though, is that I'm convinced that that stuff--the talent, the drive, the know-how--are all inside me somewhere, and it's just a matter of tapping into it. So, I'm a sucker for anything that purports to get me there, via parallel universes or hypnosis or whatever.

Last night, while my lover was falling asleep on the sofa cuddled next to me, I imagined meeting myself as a famous novelist. I asked myself what I must do to become that me, and she said, "Lots of things."

Great.

"Where do I start?"

"Think of yourself as a novelist. You are a novelist already."

I repeated to myself, "I am a novelist. I am a novelist. I am a novelist."

A few half-asleep words with Jessica, then back to my novelist-self.

"New affirmation. Got it. What else?"

"Lots of things."

"What can I do now?"

"Write everything down. I mean, everything. Thoughts, ideas, imagined scenes--just write it all down."

When I was in college I would write essays and term papers by putting ideas on half-sheets of paper, then arranging them the way I wanted before typing them up. I've always thought this would be a good way to write a novel, but the arranging part seems daunting. So I spent the next few hours trying to find a program that allows me to write in snippets to be arranged later. I can't seem to find one. Ken Atchity, in A Writer's Time, suggests this method. I think. I've read a lot of books on writing, and it seems like that's the one . . . It could the The Weekend Novelist . . . . At any rate, the prospect of laying out all those cards, over 600 of them, and arranging them is a little daunting. Not to mention that if I hand-write them, I won't know my word count. So I want a computer program--a really simple one--that counts words and keeps track of note cards. That's all. I'd like the notecards to be shuffle-able.

Sounds simple, yet no one seems to have done it yet.

I'm wandering with my thoughts, I know. There is still some disconnect between present-time Faithy and novelist Faithy. Let's play a game of "Wouldn't it be nice?"

(side note: I was getting ready to bitch about my schedule at at the mcspa the other day, and decided that I should do a "wouldn't it be nice if . . . " instead of my usual bitching. The first one I came up with was, "Wouldn't it be nice if the front desk knew what the fuck they were doing?" I don't think that's how the game works, but . . . there you go.)

So, wouldn't it be nice if . . .
I wrote full-time for a living?
I knew what happened next?
I had a computer program as detailed above?
I had confidence in my ability to finish a novel?
I knew what the fuck I was doing?
the words came easily and quickly?
I had already written novels so I knew it could be done and what all it entails?

I had a plan for what to do when I got stuck this month. Just to say, "What happens next?" and then keep writing, whether it's good or not. I get bored with meandering stories, though, whether reading or writing them. Next year maybe I'll try outlining in October. Or maybe I'll learn to program and write that ideal writing program myself. Make it an extension for OpenOffice.org Writer.

I'd like to talk to Abraham, get them to convince me that I can--get them to show me what to do next. I doubt they would cooperate; they seem to think the journey is fun. And, well, puzzles are fun, so I guess they're right.

In with the laundry, and then . . . what happens next? Or even, what happens later? and worry with what happens next later.

Processes

I thought I'd use one of Abraham's processes to help me deal with all the negative feelings I'm having around my mom right now.

This is where I started: I had a drunken breakdown Saturday night. I recommend eating a full meal before starting on wine, by the way, and drinking a full glass of water for every glass of wine you drink. I did neither Saturday. And if you're concerned about access to water, bring your own.

I sobbed all over said girlfriend (she is truly a saint), about how I hated that she was going through such a rough time, how I was frustrated at a friend who hadn't told me I'd hurt her feelings (even though she knows I sometimes need these things spelled out to me), and mostly, how I felt every time my mom left another voicemail.

Jessica (saint/girlfriend) suggested I write a letter to my mom, since my main complaint is that she seems to think that I embarked upon my life of sin with little to no forethought. Perhaps if I explained my reasoning to her, she might not get it, but at least I'd have the satisfaction of knowing I'd tried. Even if I don't send the letter to her, it might do me some good to get all my feelings out.

I think it's a pretty good idea in theory, but, honestly, it makes my stomach hurt. I've written these sorts of letters before, and they've taken me from despair to rage, which is a good three steps up the emotional scale, but I tend to get a little stuck in rage. I'm already in a rage about my mom, and if I think about potentially actually sending the letter to her, I have to edit out most of my emotions. Again, stomach hurt. Also, in the past when I've tried to reason with Mom about religion, her response is almost invariably shock and horror that I should ever question any of it. More stomach hurt.

So I watched The Law of Attraction in Action yesterday, as I recovered from my hangover. (I appreciate the lack of vomit in said recovery, by the way.) Abraham spoke of a process in which you start with where you are (rage) and state where you want to end up (hopefulness or above), and keep making statements to bridge that gap.

So where I am--really furious with my mom. Where I want to be . . . honestly, where I really want to be is in a place where my mom is happy for me. I am happy in my life; she seems to be blinded by her prejudice to my happiness. I don't think that's a fair goal, though; mostly because it involves changing her perception of reality (which is her problem), but also because it seems unattainable.

A more achievable goal, I think, would be to just not care. And, generally speaking, I don't. Repeated telephone messages, though, have gotten to me. Where is that goal on the emotional scale? Somewhere between boredom and contentment?

Perhaps a better goal would be to not care how many messages I get. Or, more ambitious yet, to be able to answer the phone calmly when she calls. (This morning's message, by the way, was wondering whether I'd thought about my AIDS risk that she pointed out last week.)

What is it about her that makes me feel separated from who I truly am? I think it's mostly that she reminds me of where I came from: fear, ignorance and prejudice, which I have worked hard to get past. It's also that I feel that I'm less important to her than her religion, a religion that I see as full of flaws.

But I know who I truly am. I am god in Faithy's body. I gotta keep reminding myself of that--in just typing it, I feel calmer and more in control.

Another separating point--she is so out of control with her anxiety that it feels contagious. I know that it won't affect me unless I let it.

Again, feeling a little better.

In order to be able to talk to her, though, I think I need to remember things about her that I appreciate. The more I see her as fearful and ignorant, the more I bring that out in her.

She is, at least, sincere. She honestly believes that I'm going to catch AIDS and die, then burn in hell eternally. Who can blame her for being a worry wart about that, if she really believes it's true?

She's pretty smart, too. She loves reading, and even while she fears the onset of Alzheimer's (which her mother died with), she is constantly in the middle of some novel or other. Usually a Christian novel nowadays, but still, that counts for something.

This is going to sound negative, but it is something I appreciate: she's a vivid object lesson in the Law of Attraction. Homophobic with a gay daughter; obsessing over her health and mind and manifesting endless doctor's appointments and diagnoses; she is one of the main reasons I have decided to focus on the positive in my life, because I see where focusing on the negative has gotten her.

I remember an incident in my childhood; I accused her of gossiping about someone, and I couldn't understand why, if gossiping was so bad, she continued to repeat stories. At first she angrily said she wasn't gossiping, then later she came to me crying, apologized for speaking ill of whoever it was, and thanked me for pointing it out to her. She didn't stop the habit, by a long shot, but it showed me that grown-ups could see their own faults. That was news.

She and my father both (my father more, really) encouraged me to view religious teaching seriously and critically, which I believe led me to eventually reject all of it. "Eat the meat and spit out the bones," was the axiom repeated at our church, which I have taken as my attitude toward learning anything new.

She encouraged scholarship, in a way. She never encouraged me to become an engineer, or to follow any other masculine-sounding pursuit, but she and my father sent me through college twice on their meager budget.

Music was important in our household, and while our tastes are vastly different (she's a big fan of John Philip Sousa), it's a love that's abided for me. And we're both great fans of musicals; I wonder if she realizes exactly how gay musicals are.

She makes an awesome blueberry cobbler.

And so now I'm feeling better--maybe not hopeful or optimistic, but at least content--maybe I could write that letter.

Distractions

I was pretty grumpy by the time Jessica got home. My mom had left another message--apparently "I'm going to leave you alone" means for about a day.

Mom said she had a new perspective on homosexuality. That maybe you could be born with it, she didn't know, but we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us, and would I please call her. I haven't. It makes my stomach hurt to think about calling her, so I'm not calling, and I'm not thinking about it.


It did occur to me--and this is what I stewed over while painting the bathroom (which looks awesome, by the way)--that she seems to think that I just up and decided to leave the church and go gay one day. No forethought, no consideration about what it means for my eternal soul, etc. I wonder whether spelling out why I left the church and how long it took me and how difficult it was, complete with my reasoning, would help. I kind of doubt it. At any rate, I'm not going to talk to her about it until it doesn't make my stomach hurt.

I think that's what makes me most sad--to know that my mom is so blinded by her beliefs that she has no faith in me.

It's funny--she occasionally has told me she's impressed with me--that I can crochet and knit better than her, for example, or figure out how to fix my own washing machine. Once I got tired of email forwards of some ultra-conservative political nature, and I wrote a rebuttal and sent it to her. She was impressed with my logic and ability to communicate ideas, and was proud of that, but still didn't agree. Generally speaking, I keep my mouth shut about those sorts of things, but I did get some satisfaction from knowing that she at least could see my logic. Maybe I should send a note explaining my stance. I'm not sure if I could keep some poison from seeping through, though.

So I'll send a note to my brother and his fiance apologizing for not going for Thanksgiving and letting them know we'd like to visit them in Connecticut instead.

But back to distractions, which is what I started to write about. We went to dinner and a movie last night because I really, really wanted to be distracted. We went to the bar that has the best burgers in the county, ran into an acquaintance, watched some SyFy movie with closed captions while we ate ("Hey! That's the Borg queen!" when we saw one of the actors), then saw RED at the theater. It was a happy distraction, and it worked.

So today I shall work harder at distracting myself rather than stewing and see where it gets me.

Perhaps I'll carry my journal around with me while I bake bread and make notes of things I want to do and places I want to visit.

Joyful Co-creating

My girlfriend is still listening to The Vortex, and finding it a great way to improve her attitude, if only temporarily. It's those little temporary shifts that add up to feeling good in general, and I'm glad she's getting a lot out of it. Perhaps I'll listen to a little Abraham-Hicks material while I paint today; I probably need it after the blog post of despair I just published.

I told her I'd like to do some conscious co-creating with her, and she wanted to know how that's accomplished. Honestly, I don't think there's an actual process they've published on how to do that. And I think we do a pretty good job of it naturally--we talk about what we want to do together and separately, and we bring lots of good stuff into our relationship in that way.

We've had several relationship talks since she's moved in, and they all have been very satisfying. We sincerely hope for the best for ourselves and each other, and have painted a detailed picture of how we'd like to interact in our relationship in an ongoing way. It's working out well so far. I think what I want to add to that is a picture of what we'll look like in five or ten years. Not in a way that binds us together for better or worse--we both want the other to have the freedom to walk away if it's what's best for her. Rather, in a way allows us to bring to ourselves and our relationship the lives we've always wanted.

It's not just about how we interact, either. We talk about places we want to visit and things we want to do, activities we'd like to do regularly or semi-regularly. Little things like going out dancing with friends; restaurants and wine bars we'd like to try. Classes and hobbies that would pique both our interests, or just one while the other stands by and encourages. Financial goals. Personal development goals.

I think one way to make it a more conscious process would be to write this stuff down as it occurs to us. We're both fans of list-making; perhaps we'll add a joint list to our separate ones.

She has an on-again, off-again pen pal since high school in Malaysia, and visiting her is on her travel list. Perhaps we could combine that with my desire to go to Thailand and see the painting elephants. Maybe that could go on our joint list.

What do you think, sweetie?

The throbbing toe

Abraham says that if your cause of discomfort is too intense to imagine a better feeling or better situation, it might be a good idea to distract yourself into feeling better. If you stub your toe, rather than imagining a happy, healthy foot, go to the movies.

I totally see the logic in that, at least as far as throbbing toes goes, but it feels a bit like cheating in other situations.

This morning I made my manifestation list I mentioned yesterday. My fountain pen is functional again, and my notebook has two more pages of scribbles. I came up with good reasons to believe I'll end up with an iPhone 4, a published novel, a paid off mortgage. The novel was most fun; I have ideas for how it will be easily edited and published, and really, six or seven double-spaced pages per day isn't that difficult for me to come up with. I've made a deal with Jessica that there will be no television until the day's quota is met, and I really love the idea of sitting in the living room with a little music in the background, clicking away at our keyboards. So, yes, I'm really excited about that.

I got to the fourth item on my list--actually, it was the first, but I saved the reasoning to believe until last because I figured I could do with a little momentum--and . . . well, it's hard to come up with reasons to believe my relationship with my mom will improve just a whole lot.

She really does mean well, and she really believes all that bullshit about god sending people to hell for silly reasons like not believing in him. Egotistical bastard. Those thoughts don't bring me closer to feeling better. In fact, it makes her seem farther away. She'll eventually miss me and shut up about it, yet I know it will be a worrisome subtext of our relationship. I'll eventually come up with something to say that won't send her over the edge yet allows me to remain true to myself. I've no idea what that something might be. And so my list goes--every attempt to improve my attitude ends at a stomach lurch, and I wonder if her eventual death will be what brings us closer. Morbid, I know, but if Abraham is right, death isn't really death. And she'll feel better then.

I feel sorry for her, and I'm angry with her, and neither of these are vortex-y feelings.

So--I have this emotional stubbed toe, but I feel like distracting myself from it is cheating. There are a lot of "ought"s at work here. I ought to know what to say to her. I ought to work hard to make it better. Working hard doesn't help that much, though, especially if you start out with a knot in your stomach. She ought to care enough about me to get over her programming, but then I can't really expect that. She really believes that shit; letting go of it would leave her without ground to stand on. I know; I let go of it myself a number of years ago. It was some time before I found a real bit of earth to plant my feet on, but it's much firmer than the illusion of religion. I always felt shaky when I was there.

My mom is, like I used to be, primarily motivated by fear. I can't believe that it's purely due to brain chemistry. Fucked up beliefs really do fuck with a person's head, and it's impossible to live a balanced life if you spend too much time with your fucked up beliefs. There are mentally healthy christians out there, but I find that they gloss over the dogma about hell and punishment and judgment.

So I obsess over it a little, but mostly I ignore and distract. And it is nice to think about writing, about painting the bathroom; it will be nice to actually paint the bathroom today, and even nicer to have two rooms just the way we want them. It's nice to sit here on the sofa and type this all out in my robe with my coffee.

I haven't spoken to my mom in over two weeks. Is it really ok to just ignore her until I feel up to talking to her? I'm not trying to punish her; I just don't have anything to say, and it's painful to listen to her.

And writing about all this will, perhaps, just attract more of the same. So I'm off to get dressed, to paint the bathroom, to imagine writing and having an iPhone 4 or whatever else sounds pleasant.

Fountain pens work better if you use them regularly

My girlfriend has started making lists of her interests. She's been with the same man for 20 years, and has always taken him into consideration when making plans and pursuing interests. She has a hobby list, a travel list, and I'm not sure what else. Someone pointed out to her that this is an opportunity to really find herself--rather than launching into another long-term relationship without thinking about who she is and what she wants, she'll work on herself. I think that's a damn good idea.

There's a small part of me that worries that she'll discover that I'm not what she's looking for, but the bigger part of me is glad she's really discovering herself. I'd rather be with someone who is confident in herself, who doesn't compromise herself to appease me (which, honestly, she doesn't do anyway), and who doesn't rely on how others behave to feel good herself.

Meanwhile, while I was typing the above paragraph, I got another voicemail from my mom. Yesterday's voicemail was informational--I can get AIDS from my girlfriend if she's ever slept with someone who has it. I'm pretty sure she hasn't, and she's tested negative anyway, as have I, and even if she were HIV positive, lesbian sex isn't the best way to give it to somebody else. I considered calling my mom back to reassure her that our chances are pretty fucking slim of acquiring anything, let alone something as difficult to transmit as HIV, but . . . well, no, I didn't really consider it. Honestly, I'd just like for her to drop it.

Today's voicemail was just as dramatic, but the content was a little better. She knows I'm tired of hearing about it, and she's giving it over into the hands of her savior, and I can call her when I feel like it, but she won't be bugging me any more. As I'm pretty sure Jesus doesn't have my phone number (he's never called me, anyway), I'm pretty happy about that. Still, the situation is far from ideal.

I can't create in someone else's reality, so I'm trying to figure out what would be the best situation to bring into my reality. If I could manufacture enlightenment pills, I'd take one myself first, then slip one into my mom's decaf (anxiety makes it prudent to avoid caffeine). Or maybe I should do hers first, as enlightenment might make me realize it's best not to fiddle with other people's realities.

I'm currently listening to The Law of Attraction: The Basics of the Teachings of Abraham. It's vintage recordings republished as a single audiobook. Esther uses a thicker accent when translating for Abraham, so it's a little like listening to a gypsy fortune teller, and the background music is spookily like what I hear at work (that is, it's a little spooky and dramatic), but the content is good as always.

One of the exercises they suggest is writing down what you want to manifest on one side of a sheet of paper, and on the other side write down all the reasons you know it will happen. They suggest starting with three, so your energy isn't too divided, and I think it will be easier to keep track of what's going on, too.

So what can I manifest about the situation with my mom? For her to love Jessica like a good daughter-in-law possibility? I'm thinking the tattoos might scare her a little, so that's a bit much to ask, at least for the moment. I think what I can manage is improvement in our relationships.

So that goes on my first list, three things I'll manifest. Along with an iPhone 4 and a paid off mortgage. Shallow, the material wishes, you think? Perhaps, but life wouldn't be any fun if everything we did were deep and meaningful. Plus, those sorts of things are easier to measure. The mortgage kind of scares me, almost as much as my mom does, so maybe I'll start with something easier there, too. Or maybe I'll make a list of four--those three and my completed novel. I'm a rule breaker. And the novel would also be easier to measure, and it's quite important to me, in case you haven't noticed from previous posts.

And, like Jessica, I'll be making lists of places I'd like to visit and interests I'd like to pursue. When I'm in the groove with the intentional creation stuff, maybe I'll turn those pages over and write why I know they'll manifest in my physical reality.

I've already pulled out a journal, and, once again, my fountain pen has dried up. I do love a good fountain pen. Perhaps I'll fix the pen before working on ridding the bathroom of mold.

My home is improving every day. We painted the bedroom yesterday, and it looks friggin' awesome. Three walls in dark eucalyptus and one in warm caramel is a great improvement over all four in granny smith apple green. Next on our list is the bathroom--a softer orange and new art on the wall. Jessica knows a number of very good artists and has a lot of their work, and piece by piece our home is turning into a truly lovely environment. We have plans to build a shed to keep the motorcycles safe (my motorcycle won't know what hit it, poor thing) and move storage and tools out there as well. All kinds of neat stuff is happening, and I know it's all been waiting for me in my vibrational escrow.

So that's what's happening in the world of faithy. Life is good; a little weird, but good, and every night I have the best manifestation ever: cuddles with a beautiful woman whom I love, and who loves me.

Music for the Vortex

While driving home from work about a week ago, Rufus Wainwright's "Beautiful Child" came on my iPhone mix. Normally I listen to audiobooks, but I had an urge to jam out that day, and I think with good reason: inspiration hit. I need a Vortex playlist for my favoritest happy songs.

Music affects my mood like nothing else. There's nothing more satisfying than feeling humdrum, a little blue, and putting in Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile and screaming along with "Starfuckers" (which I happen to think is kind of a funny song--it's just a little too angry, you know?). Or if I want to dwell in my blue-ness and derive a little satisfaction from that vague feeling of longing that comes with it, I can shuffle through my The Sundays collection--favorites for 20 years. I've yet to have an iPod that didn't have The Sundays on board, and I'm all about switching up my music collection.

So when I'm feeling happy, or wanting to feel happy, and don't feel like thinking through some book-on-tape logic to make myself feel better, here are a handful of songs that make it to the top of my list. I've included 3 by Sigur Ros. They're magical, somehow, and not just because they're from Iceland, which is a magical place. Oh, and Bjork gets 3 as well--but, well, she's fuckin' hot, so she gets 3. And she's Icelandic, too. Have I mentioned I've been to Iceland?

Jessica saw me making my playlist, and she said, "You know what I'd put on that playlist." Yes, I do.  Her theme song, "Unwritten," by Nathasha Bedingfield. For being pop, it's a pretty damn good song, too, so in it goes.

You'll notice that not all of these songs are really high energy selections. I think there's a lot to be said for peaceful joy as well as energetic joy. Plus, I get tired if I listen to too much high energy stuff in a row. Maybe I should work on my joy stamina. Or maybe I should just enjoy everything as it comes to me, high energy or peaceful.

Music is the universal language. Which is to say, I believe, it is the language of the universe. My spirit speaks to me when something nice is shooting through the speakers, and in putting on these selections, I start a dialogue that brings me to myself.

Thinking more about writing . . .

Can you tell I'm getting excited about NaNoWriMo next month? It's less than a week away!

I'm thinking about it a lot. I think I've decided which idea I'll be working on, and am considering changing the setting that I had previously decided on for that novel. Not sure if it will work in a different setting, but I've got a week for mulling, and mull I shall.

I've read bajillions--I mean, a whole lot--of books about writing. Primarily books about overcoming writer's block, motivating yourself, and otherwise getting novels written for people who haven't managed to write them before. Overall, I have to say these books make my stomach hurt, and I know why.

Those how-to writers spend a lot of time talking about what stops them from writing. The inner critic, the lack of inspiration, the difficulty scheduling, the outlines or lack thereof . . . .  These are completely anti-Law of Attraction guidelines for how to write. Even if I manage to eke out a few pages while or after reading one of these books, I soon give up (if I start) and capitulate to the fear of coming up against what they warn about. Their advice is almost invariably the same: keep writing anyway. It might not be fun, but eventually you'll get into a groove and get it done.

How depressing is that?

Did Bill Gates, when he was a teenager sneaking out of his bedroom window to go program computers at 2 am, dread sitting down at the keyboard and hope for inspiration to hit eventually? I can only imagine not. I picture an acne-fied, bespectacled Gates loving every minute--even the frustrating ones. Hell, I bet the sneaking out was one of the best parts. And it all added to the joy of programming. He found his passion and followed it.

So why, when someone nervously hints they might be passionate about writing, does conventional wisdom think it's wise to warn them of pitfalls awaiting them? The cautionary tales are ostensibly so that the aspiring writer will be prepared when the inevitable happens. Could this method work for anybody? It certainly doesn't for me.

Imagine going into a new love relationship completely focused on everything that's gone wrong in the past, then reading a book warning of pitfalls that hadn't even occurred to you yet. Sure, you don't want to be blinded by love and get burned, but . . . well . . . we fall in love because it's fun, don't we? We love the good feelings, the companionship, the adventure of it all. When a new lover presents a challenge, it's more often looked at an as opportunity to expand than an annoyance.

"Why, no, I've never tried haggis, but if you like it so much I'll be willing to give it a go."

"Skydiving? I've always been terrified of heights, but if it means time with you, I'll do it."

So I think, relationship guru that I am, that the key to a loving and lasting relationship is to hold onto those good thoughts, those things you love about your lover, as much as you can, and when difficulties come, work through them. Don't sweep them under the rug, inviting resentment to build up under the surface. Instead, take the energy generated by the love you feel for each other to work through the problems.

My plan is to treat my novel as a new love relationship. It's a chance for expansion, to experience things I never have before. When I come up against a difficulty, I'll focus on what I love about writing, about my story, about life in general, and I'll get through to something way better.

And I do love writing. When I was young (before email), I'd write multi-paged letters in tiny script to all my friends. I felt I could be more my ideal self when writing, and I wanted them to know that aspect of me. I could be funny or philosophical or a little of each. I was proud of my letters, and part of what I looked forward to in receiving their letters was the knowledge that it was then my turn to write again.

On my days off there's nothing better than typing up my thoughts about the Law of Attraction for this blog while sipping coffee. I dread finishing (hence the often long posts). I feel truly at home with a keyboard.

I love the feel and sound of the keys. I love being able to say whatever I like without being interrupted (much--cutting my eyes around at our animal roommates). I love the clarity that comes to my thoughts when I put them into words. Honestly, I don't give a shit whether anybody ever reads this blog. I just enjoy writing it. I enjoy writing in general.

I've always wanted to write a novel. There's plenty of wanting there--that's a powerful start. My beliefs, in the past, have kept me from completing anything. Whether it's the idea that I don't know what should go in the middle of the book, or that it's too huge a task for me to accomplish, or, my dad's favorite line, "You never have, so what makes you think you ever will?" But those are just beliefs, and at the moment, I don't give a shit about them, either.

A belief is just a thought you keep thinking, Abraham says. I've had enough of those particular beliefs. I may not have new ones well-seated, replacing them yet, but again, I don't give a shit.

I'm excited.

I like writing.

I'm writing a novel.

Ten minutes to blog!

and there's too much to say.

I've gotten 2 phone messages and a letter from my mom since the last documented conversation. She hasn't changed her stance--the dog and I may come home for Thanksgiving, but Jessica may not. Jessica's theory is that she feels a great deal of discomfort with making this stand, but feels trapped by her fear of hell into doing it. Good point.

I've realized that my favorite thing to do is to sip my coffee in the morning and blog (hence the quick post today) and I think it will carry over into my NaNoWriMo project. Of course, that will carry over into evenings, too, as I don't generally write over a thousand words here. I'm still excited.

I've fallen behind on keeping up with Quicken. It's on my list for tomorrow, my day off, along with laundry, moving the treadmill, and other general household stuff. I'm working on being excited about that.

I have several blog posts I want to make--Vortex Music Selections, appreciation rant about writing and the like. Stay tuned.

I'm trying to remember to think of things I appreciate in the mornings. Mostly I appreciate my bed, so there's still some work to be done there. :)

I'm Getting Excited

I'm getting pretty psyched about NaNoWriMo. I have an account with My Writing Nook and have the corresponding iPhone app. I'm eager to start but the official start date isn't until November 1. I have decided that even if it's mostly gibberish, I shall have a 50,000 word document by November 30.

I've started novels before, but I'm pretty sure none have ever made it quite to 50,000 words. I have high hopes this year, primarily because I have a writing partner, and she is my girlfriend. I imagine coming home in the evening and clicking away at our computers, cursing writer's block together and comparing word counts. I've just put a daily event on my Google calendar: "Write 1667 words."

I've thought about doing NaNoWriMo before, but the start date has come and gone without me remembering to start, or the lack of someone to commiserate/celebrate with has made it feel like a solitary struggle up a steep hill.

So I've been thinking about this for a couple of weeks now, and I have a plan for when I get stuck. My plan is to keep writing, even if I don't know what comes next. I figure it's a pretty smart plan: the babbling until something sensible comes out will add to my word count,for one thing, and the hours I spend will count toward my 10,000 hours to become an expert novelist.

I get the 10,000 hours concept from Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point, a really fascinating look at genius and a practical outline of what separates the Bill Gateses from the rest of us: time invested. Sure, they start off a little smarter than some, but not magnificently so. The key is to care so much about what you're interested in that you spend time--a lot of time--doing it.

I've worried that I inherently lack the kind of passion it takes to make that sort of commitment. Looking at it objectively, though, I don't think I lack passion. I think I care quite a bit, but lack confidence and conviction. The best way to gain confidence is through experience, and I think this is the year to actually do it.

No matter how uncomfortable I am with what I'm writing or where it's going or how lost I feel getting there, I know that discomfort is better than the feeling of disappointment I'll have if i quit.

It reminds me of leaving my religion, in a way. I considered going back, in a few bouts of hell-phobia, what if I'm wrong sort of thinking. The idea, though, crushed me. I knew that no matter how frightened I was, the fear was more liberating than living inside that bell jar. I felt a strong kinship to Sylvia Plath at the time; I had felt the breeze that came when a small corner of the jar lifted, and couldn't bring myself to live without it.

So--I'm off to my day job now, and looking forward to my new challenge.

What is it about you that makes me feel separated from my source?

It's been a few days since last I posted. This is partially because I've been pretty fucking busy. My girlfriend moved in with me last Monday, and as my house wasn't particularly prepared to receive a new tenant, we've been tidying, discussing, and making decisions about what to do with pretty much everything. The process has only just begun. Also, my primary computer is now using the television as a monitor (it felt restricted by the 20" monitor and was getting lonely in my office, which I try not to go into unless I have to), and it's a little weird to type out my thoughts on a giant screen with someone else in the room. I don't mind her reading it when I'm done (she's my primary audience at the moment, actually), but the creation process is not enhanced by an audience.

What happened to the polyamory situation? Oh, yeah. That. Well, it's a long story, and I'm not sure all parties would appreciate the story being immortalized in my blog, but the basic gist is that Doug and Christy (husband and his girlfriend who happens to be my ex) decided they would rather be primaries, and Jessica and I are, as a result, primaries as well.  No, it wasn't a simple, "Oh, OK. That's fine; I was ready for a change, anyway," to get from there to here, but I'm really not at liberty to give details, as much as I might like to.

I've been monitoring my reactions closely. I've had a lot of anger as different aspects have come to light, and have really had to pace myself to keep from saying things I might later regret. And no, I have no anger toward Jessica. I asked her the other night whether it was selfish of me to be glad that I have her full-time now, and I am glad. My home feels empty when she's not here.

At the same time, it's a little weird to think of myself as her primary partner after being secondary for so long. It's easier to carry on with my you-are-in-charge-of-your-own-happiness philosophy when . . . well, when what? I don't care for Jessica any more or less than I did before; I don't take her into consideration any more than I did before when making decisions. Perhaps it's only that our commitment to each other is more palpable now. That and the word primary.

Throughout this time I've been bewildered more than once by how other people think and behave. Historically I've been pretty good at imagining why other people do what they do, and it's made me a pretty easy-going person. Lately I've been having to think pretty hard to figure out why people do what they do, though, and it's challenged my belief that there is no absolute right or wrong in most situations.

Here's a good example: I told my mom that Jessica had moved in, and that I was thinking of bringing her home, to Vernon, Alabama, for Thanksgiving. Her response:

"Is she gay?"

I mulled this over for a moment, turned to Jessica, and said, "She wants to know if you're gay."

I know that Jessica is not gay. I also know that trying to explain bisexuality to my mom would only translate as the word as "whore" to her. We're certainly not getting into the married issue.

I did the best I could: "She's dated men, but right now she's in love with me."

That did not go over well at all.

"I am not having her in my house."

"You let me bring Christy home."

"I'm not putting up with this any more. You need to read your bible. I know you believe in God." And on and on.

I did *not* respond with, "Well, no, Mom, I can't believe in a god who would send nice people like me to hell," so figure I'm doing pretty good with restraining myself. Of course, in not saying stuff like that, I'm totally looking out for my own interests. There's not much that's more painful than a religious discussion with my mom.

I hate to think that my mom's beliefs are more important to her than I am, but at times I suspect that's true. Sure, I could tell myself that she really believes I'd be happier if I capitulated to this idea of right and wrong that she has, but I can see how anxiety-ridden she is herself because of those beliefs, and it just doesn't make sense.

So when I feel angry or sad or just weird about that situation or others, I ask myself, as Abraham advises, "What is it about you that makes me feel separated from my source?"

Is it your own obvious lack of connection? Does it remind me of my own shortcomings? Do I envy your passion and conviction? Do I long for some rock to stand on?

And suddenly I feel pretty firmly grounded. I do have a rock to stand on. I know how I feel, and what I believe, and I know why I feel and believe what I do.

At times I have a hard time believing that what I want will magically appear in my life if I firmly hold to the belief that it will. Having a hard time believing it sort of puts a damper on trying, of course. Having said that, I can point to a number of recent events that makes it obvious that it's true.

I cherished every moment with Jessica before, and knew that I wanted a full-time lover like her, yet I had no feeling of lack because she was in my life, and I enjoyed what we had. And now I have a full-time lover exactly like her. Specifically, her. It felt like a pretty fucked up way to get here, but I am really glad we're here all the same.

That's the big one. But there are smaller things, too--like having my house more the way I want it. She wants it the way I want it, too, and it's easier to make it happen with two of us here. I've always wanted to have someone to do NaNoWriMo with me, and she suggested we both do it about a month ago. And so forth.

So I don't know what to do with my mom, or whether I'll go home for Thanksgiving at all at this point. I don't know why my friends behave the way they do; I don't even understand some of what Jessica does, and we're pretty together on most things. I'm not even sure if it's my job to try to figure it all out, but it's what I do.

I guess being in charge of your own happiness doesn't mean you ought to create a vacuum to live in, so that nothing else can interfere with your quest. I think it means appreciate the contrast that comes to you, and whether you shake your head or nod in agreement with the events in your life, hold on most of all to your own source.

Finances

I returned to the Law of Attraction stuff after a month-long funk about my finances. Immediately I had manifested some pretty cool stuff (digital piano, etc), and I've noticed I seem to get a lot more cash tips lately; I've been picturing having more folding money, so that's congruent. Also, my return to concentrating on feeling good has really helped me deal with some stresses in my life and the lives of my friends, and I appreciate that.

My girlfriend is moving in, and because of that I'm having a good look at my finances. She's better than me at keeping up with hers, and I hope she'll be a good influence on me. I updated all my bank accounts in Quicken for the first time in months last night (my general stance is to follow my bliss, and everyone says ignorance is bliss), and I'm happy to say that, while I didn't detect any good news in the process, I didn't find it as discouraging or frustrating as usual. Still discouraged; just not as much as usual. So that's a positive thing, in a way.

I'm hoping that looking at the actual numbers on the computer screen will give me more tools to visualize better finances. If I'm not sure how broke I am it's hard to picture it getting better, I reason. Plus ignorance makes more room for missing payments and getting into trouble in general. Keeping up with it will prove to me that there's nothing to be afraid of, another positive thought that will pave the way toward being in alignment.

I remember when I got my first computer, soon after graduating nursing school. My favorite thing to do was put all my transactions into Quicken and see the numbers neatly add up (or subtract down); watch my credit cards dwindle away to a zero balance; reconcile all my accounts against their statements and always have everything come out correctly. I'm not sure what happened--I think it started when I realized that the power wouldn't get turned off immediately if I missed a payment. In any case, it wasn't fun any more after a few years, and it's felt like a struggle since then, whether I have a good income or a less-than-good one.

My goal is to make it fun again--like an old married couple reconnecting to the love they felt when they first got together. Do they offer marriage counseling for people and their checkbooks?