Specifically, maybe I think about this shit too much.
Thinking about being in the vortex--that happy place where I'm aligned with my inner being--brings back philosophical thoughts from my childhood.
I thought a lot back then, too. Things like, "What if I'm Jesus reincarnated?" and the like. I was a pensive child, spending hours wandering through the woods, getting mosquito bitten and hiding from my grumpy family, pretending to be a character in a novel I would one day write or wondering what life was all about. My mom would tell me that life is about pleasing God, but that didn't answer why he put us here, or why he specifically put me there. It seemed illogical that someone that big would create people just to worship him and boost his ego.
Right now I'm remembering my fear of being too happy.
I had the feeling that I had the capacity for way more happiness than I was experiencing, but that if I experienced that much happiness, I might explode, at least on a spiritual level, and cease to be an individual. This was a great concern to me, so I tried not to dwell on it too much. This line of thinking often came in conjunction with the idea that maybe I was Jesus all over again, and that I'd have to do something that would be, at best, a lot of work and probably unpleasant in a lot of ways. I could see myself changing the world, and I could see how horrified everyone I knew would be in the process.
Now I believe that I am god (but no more god than anybody else, as ego gratifying as it would be to be more god than you), and I find power and joy in that, yet it's still pretty intimidating. I also believe that I can be as happy as the entire universe singing the hallelujah fucking chorus in unison and still be me, but it hasn't happened yet. Again, intimidating . . . but exciting at the same time.
I am afraid of heights, yet I love the sensation of falling. 99% of my phobia is due to the fact that I have a strong urge to jump. The other 1% is the picture of myself in a crumpled heap when I land. So, occasionally I do jump, with appropriate safety precautions. That terror that reminds me I'm alive within the safety of a water landing or a parachute is the most exhilarating, freeing sensation that I can think of. I had that sensation when I decided to leave my religion and when I decided it would be okay to have a girlfriend. I was terrified on both counts, yet the thought of continuing the way I had been felt dark and stifling, and I couldn't bear it. So I continued to take that plunge.
I wish I could find a spiritual cliff to dive off of into the vortex. To be sure, if I dove off a physical cliff I'd end up in the vortex (or maybe in a quadriplegic state), but that feels like cheating. And I'm quite curious about what will happen in my physical life as I continue this journey.
I feel I need that cliff--that once-I-decide-I'm-jumping-it's-too-late-to-change-my-mind sort of situation. Partially I like the idea of the exhilaration, of course, but partly I know my propensity towards wandering back and forth between yes and no, going forward and going back. I cling to relationships, jobs, and habits long after I know they no longer serve me. When I do walk away, the relief overwhelms any sense of loss, and I'm glad I finally went, but getting there is a long and pointless struggle.
Also, I'd like a situation where there's no half-jumping: no leaving my job to ask for it back in 6 months, for example (which I've done, which is why I have no retirement savings).
This is an image I'll meditate on. Maybe I'll find that cliff. It feels exciting.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Faith A. Seay, famous author
When I was a kid, that's how I signed my name. As a matter of fact, I think that lasted through high school and maybe a little of college, too.
I *knew* that I'd be an author. That I'd write young adult and/or sci fi. I had characters running around in my head having adventures that are still going on today. They've evolved quite a bit since I was twelve. I thought I was being edgy when I imagined them having premarital sex and now they're all bisexual and polyamorous, for example. There are generations of them, and they're all very dear to my heart.
I've started writing many times over the years, in school and out, but I've always started with a bang and then wandered off into discouragement after a few chapters. I'm good at beginnings and endings, but the middle part eludes me. I've tried methods of outlining (I think it would really help if I had some sort of template to go by) but I always feel like I'm making up random stuff to put in the middle, so I lose interest and get discouraged.
Many people have suggested starting with short stories, which sort of makes sense, but sort of doesn't. I don't even like reading short stories, and while I've written a couple, they don't feel meaty enough to keep my interest. Novels are where it's at as far as I'm concerned.
So whenever Abraham answers a question from someone in a creative endeavor, my ears always perk up and I begin taking mental notes. I've pushed the writing idea to the back of my mind for a long time, and getting back into this Law of Attraction stuff reminds me that that's the biggest thing waiting for me in my vortex.
I wonder if my fear of undertaking a writing project again is an emotional indicator that it's not time to start yet, or if it's a manifestation of some belief I have that I'll never get it done and that it'll be a lot of work for nothing. I feel my excitement rising, though, which adds a jittery edge to the fear, and I'm really not sure what to do with that.
Meanwhile, I have this silly idea that if I become independently wealthy (i.e. win the lottery) that I'll eventually get bored enough that I'll write to entertain myself and that's when I'll get my first book done.
Other ideas I've had, while I'm on the subject, include writing the whole damn thing out of order on index cards and then arranging them and typing them up, which is how I wrote most long papers in college (the prospect of arranging 600+ cards sounds daunting); starting another blog for the purpose of writing a book (it's not working so well with my Create Your Own Religion idea thus far); and befriending J.K. Rowling to see how she did it.
A big part of the problem is that it's a huge part of my vibrational escrow/stuff waiting for me in the vortex/whatever they're calling it this year. It's my dearest ambition, and one that I rarely talk about because I feel the weight of my own expectations when I speak of it to others. I don't want anyone else to be as demanding of me about writing as I am, so I just try not to talk about it, and often feel awkward and ashamed when I do. There's an indicator that I'm not seeing myself the way source does. I've started and given up enough times to feel a great deal of resistance around the whole idea, which just makes me sad. Maybe I should consider another tantrum.
Abraham suggests starting with something smaller to practice the vortexy/attraction thing so I get the hang of it. I can't say that there's much else that I want short of financial independence now that I've manifested a functioning digital piano; maybe an iPad or paid vet bills, but I figure those could come with the wealth. I gotta admit my life is pretty amazing--my dog is recovering nicely, I have a wonderful girlfriend and 3 days off per week (7 days off would be nice, but--see financial independence comment above). A comfy home (oh, yeah--I'd like a shelter for my motorcycle). None of my wants is as compelling, though, as my want to enjoy putting together a novel, to be pleased with it when I'm finished, and to have that experience to take me into my next novel.
So I guess my job for now is to think happy thoughts, let myself get sucked into the vortex and try to stay there as long as I can. We'll see where I end up.
I *knew* that I'd be an author. That I'd write young adult and/or sci fi. I had characters running around in my head having adventures that are still going on today. They've evolved quite a bit since I was twelve. I thought I was being edgy when I imagined them having premarital sex and now they're all bisexual and polyamorous, for example. There are generations of them, and they're all very dear to my heart.
I've started writing many times over the years, in school and out, but I've always started with a bang and then wandered off into discouragement after a few chapters. I'm good at beginnings and endings, but the middle part eludes me. I've tried methods of outlining (I think it would really help if I had some sort of template to go by) but I always feel like I'm making up random stuff to put in the middle, so I lose interest and get discouraged.
Many people have suggested starting with short stories, which sort of makes sense, but sort of doesn't. I don't even like reading short stories, and while I've written a couple, they don't feel meaty enough to keep my interest. Novels are where it's at as far as I'm concerned.
So whenever Abraham answers a question from someone in a creative endeavor, my ears always perk up and I begin taking mental notes. I've pushed the writing idea to the back of my mind for a long time, and getting back into this Law of Attraction stuff reminds me that that's the biggest thing waiting for me in my vortex.
I wonder if my fear of undertaking a writing project again is an emotional indicator that it's not time to start yet, or if it's a manifestation of some belief I have that I'll never get it done and that it'll be a lot of work for nothing. I feel my excitement rising, though, which adds a jittery edge to the fear, and I'm really not sure what to do with that.
Meanwhile, I have this silly idea that if I become independently wealthy (i.e. win the lottery) that I'll eventually get bored enough that I'll write to entertain myself and that's when I'll get my first book done.
Other ideas I've had, while I'm on the subject, include writing the whole damn thing out of order on index cards and then arranging them and typing them up, which is how I wrote most long papers in college (the prospect of arranging 600+ cards sounds daunting); starting another blog for the purpose of writing a book (it's not working so well with my Create Your Own Religion idea thus far); and befriending J.K. Rowling to see how she did it.
A big part of the problem is that it's a huge part of my vibrational escrow/stuff waiting for me in the vortex/whatever they're calling it this year. It's my dearest ambition, and one that I rarely talk about because I feel the weight of my own expectations when I speak of it to others. I don't want anyone else to be as demanding of me about writing as I am, so I just try not to talk about it, and often feel awkward and ashamed when I do. There's an indicator that I'm not seeing myself the way source does. I've started and given up enough times to feel a great deal of resistance around the whole idea, which just makes me sad. Maybe I should consider another tantrum.
Abraham suggests starting with something smaller to practice the vortexy/attraction thing so I get the hang of it. I can't say that there's much else that I want short of financial independence now that I've manifested a functioning digital piano; maybe an iPad or paid vet bills, but I figure those could come with the wealth. I gotta admit my life is pretty amazing--my dog is recovering nicely, I have a wonderful girlfriend and 3 days off per week (7 days off would be nice, but--see financial independence comment above). A comfy home (oh, yeah--I'd like a shelter for my motorcycle). None of my wants is as compelling, though, as my want to enjoy putting together a novel, to be pleased with it when I'm finished, and to have that experience to take me into my next novel.
So I guess my job for now is to think happy thoughts, let myself get sucked into the vortex and try to stay there as long as I can. We'll see where I end up.
Rainy days and Mondays . . .
usually make me pretty fucking happy. Monday is my day off; rain is a blessing that I truly enjoy.
Today, though, I woke up from a dream in which someone shot Dmitri. It was very upsetting. Abraham would say that it's a good thing that manifested in a dream rather than in real life, and go on to say that that both the shooter and Dmitri are me, etc. I still struggle, though, with wondering whether I could have prevented him needing surgery if my vibrations (i.e. mood, vibrational alignment, being true to myself) were better, and I wonder if the dream isn't just guilt poking its way through my subconscious.
My inner being doesn't feel guilt, though, and doesn't see me as guilty. At least, that's what I'm told. So me feeling guilt is actually me feeling separation from my inner being. Then maybe the dream is an indication that I need to work on being in the vortex more, which I'm doing anyway, which makes me wonder why I need to have the stupid dream in the first place. Grumble grumble.
Dmitri, on the other hand, is feeling about a billion times better than last week. He's eager to go outside, eager to eat (as long as there's canned chicken involved), and has figured out that melty cheese hides pills so now I have to find another medium. I think scrambled eggs is next on the list. He even does the full body shake (gently) when he gets wet in the rain, which is a huge step. So overall I'm feeling pretty happy about him.
The other situation that I'm using as an excuse to not be in alignment with my inner being (grumble grumble), is that the cat I'm catsitting sneaked outside during Dmitri's morning pee break, attacked me full force when I tried to bring her back in, and hasn't been seen since. She lived here for 4 years, and I'm hoping that reduces the chances that she'll try to run away (which I've heard cats do when they're in a new place) but I can't seem to stop worrying. I feel it's my penance for falling down on my duty to keep her inside--if I have a random happier thought I catch myself trying to bring my mood back to guilt and worry, which is totally not what Abraham would recommend.
On the other hand, maybe a tantrum would help. It's certainly closer to feeling good than beating myself up. Abraham says that it's totally understandable why children have tantrums--they are closer to remembering what alignment is like and kick and scream because they want to get back there. I get that. Not sure how I'd manage to have one without scaring all the animals, though. Heh.
I gotta admit, picturing that cheered me up a little bit. Lemme hang on to that thought!
Today, though, I woke up from a dream in which someone shot Dmitri. It was very upsetting. Abraham would say that it's a good thing that manifested in a dream rather than in real life, and go on to say that that both the shooter and Dmitri are me, etc. I still struggle, though, with wondering whether I could have prevented him needing surgery if my vibrations (i.e. mood, vibrational alignment, being true to myself) were better, and I wonder if the dream isn't just guilt poking its way through my subconscious.
My inner being doesn't feel guilt, though, and doesn't see me as guilty. At least, that's what I'm told. So me feeling guilt is actually me feeling separation from my inner being. Then maybe the dream is an indication that I need to work on being in the vortex more, which I'm doing anyway, which makes me wonder why I need to have the stupid dream in the first place. Grumble grumble.
Dmitri, on the other hand, is feeling about a billion times better than last week. He's eager to go outside, eager to eat (as long as there's canned chicken involved), and has figured out that melty cheese hides pills so now I have to find another medium. I think scrambled eggs is next on the list. He even does the full body shake (gently) when he gets wet in the rain, which is a huge step. So overall I'm feeling pretty happy about him.
The other situation that I'm using as an excuse to not be in alignment with my inner being (grumble grumble), is that the cat I'm catsitting sneaked outside during Dmitri's morning pee break, attacked me full force when I tried to bring her back in, and hasn't been seen since. She lived here for 4 years, and I'm hoping that reduces the chances that she'll try to run away (which I've heard cats do when they're in a new place) but I can't seem to stop worrying. I feel it's my penance for falling down on my duty to keep her inside--if I have a random happier thought I catch myself trying to bring my mood back to guilt and worry, which is totally not what Abraham would recommend.
On the other hand, maybe a tantrum would help. It's certainly closer to feeling good than beating myself up. Abraham says that it's totally understandable why children have tantrums--they are closer to remembering what alignment is like and kick and scream because they want to get back there. I get that. Not sure how I'd manage to have one without scaring all the animals, though. Heh.
I gotta admit, picturing that cheered me up a little bit. Lemme hang on to that thought!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Post surgical blues
I haven't written in about a week. Frankly, I didn't want to wallow in non-happy feelings and that's all I could think to write about. Watching my dog drunk on buprenorphine in pain and me fighting with my girlfriend have been the highlights of my week. Not exactly vortex-inducing activities.
If you haven't read of Abraham's recent materials, the vortex is the happy place where you can find your inner being. It's where you go to get all the cool stuff you're manifesting (like a healthy dog) but you can't go there on purpose just to get stuff. You go there because it's nice to be there. There's no resistance there; all in hopeful and joyful. It's that state of mind that we feel most at home in, most enthusiastic about, and is a really nice place to be. Apparently.
Dmitri has a dressing around his abdomen now. The wound started dripping Thursday night, so we visited the vet yesterday to start that process. He's also up to 3 pain pills at a time, plus benadryl (for mast cell histamine problem prevention), an anti-inflammatory, prilosec, and antibiotics, bring his morning pill count to 9. The key is to find a wider variety of foods to hide them in--the current winner is half-melted cheese cubes. And to get him to want treats at all--he's not exactly working up an appetite. But at least he's not afraid to go from lying to standing and back again--we spent 12 hours straight standing then 16 lying down earlier thus week.
I'm talking about things I don't want, which is not a good thing to do. But there's a certain amount of relief in talking about it, too. The big thing right now to me is that we're all feeling better, not just Dmitri. And I'm finally to the place where I can picture long walk with him again, so now all I need is that pill shooter I can't find to make it easier to get these meds down his throat.
I recently heard Abraham say that when one decides to align oneself with one's inner being, often the shit hits the fan. Brings the contrast between what is wanted and what isn't into sharper . . . contrast. It's feeling pretty sharp right about now.
Having said that, noticing every little thing--how Dmitri sniffs the air when we go outside; how he lies down voluntarily; how he looks at me with scorn after a dressing change or pill administration--brings me more hope. He's feeling better enough to be grumpy with me instead of just frightened, and I know we'll soon be heading to the park and peeing on every 3rd blade of grass.
Well, I'll leave the peeing part to Dmitri.
If you haven't read of Abraham's recent materials, the vortex is the happy place where you can find your inner being. It's where you go to get all the cool stuff you're manifesting (like a healthy dog) but you can't go there on purpose just to get stuff. You go there because it's nice to be there. There's no resistance there; all in hopeful and joyful. It's that state of mind that we feel most at home in, most enthusiastic about, and is a really nice place to be. Apparently.
Dmitri has a dressing around his abdomen now. The wound started dripping Thursday night, so we visited the vet yesterday to start that process. He's also up to 3 pain pills at a time, plus benadryl (for mast cell histamine problem prevention), an anti-inflammatory, prilosec, and antibiotics, bring his morning pill count to 9. The key is to find a wider variety of foods to hide them in--the current winner is half-melted cheese cubes. And to get him to want treats at all--he's not exactly working up an appetite. But at least he's not afraid to go from lying to standing and back again--we spent 12 hours straight standing then 16 lying down earlier thus week.
I'm talking about things I don't want, which is not a good thing to do. But there's a certain amount of relief in talking about it, too. The big thing right now to me is that we're all feeling better, not just Dmitri. And I'm finally to the place where I can picture long walk with him again, so now all I need is that pill shooter I can't find to make it easier to get these meds down his throat.
I recently heard Abraham say that when one decides to align oneself with one's inner being, often the shit hits the fan. Brings the contrast between what is wanted and what isn't into sharper . . . contrast. It's feeling pretty sharp right about now.
Having said that, noticing every little thing--how Dmitri sniffs the air when we go outside; how he lies down voluntarily; how he looks at me with scorn after a dressing change or pill administration--brings me more hope. He's feeling better enough to be grumpy with me instead of just frightened, and I know we'll soon be heading to the park and peeing on every 3rd blade of grass.
Well, I'll leave the peeing part to Dmitri.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Weird Voicemail, part two
After my last post about my mother, I listened to Abraham speaking to someone at a seminar about a schizophrenic friend, and I found it--well, maybe it's not a Faithy-ready plug-and-play device, but I'm looking forward to getting all the drivers together to be able to use it.
Abraham's advice to him was to picture his friend through the eyes of source; see him as the whole and perfect being he really is, even if the physical reality doesn't match that. Jesus, according to Abraham, did that, and held their perfect reality in such strong vibration that their imperfections couldn't stay with him there. Thus he healed the sick. Not sure how I feel about Jesus in general, but that's probably related to how I feel about my mom and what she taught me about him. I am feeling a little more charitable toward him since Abraham speaks of him favorably, but--well, that's where I am. I shall operate under the assumption that the bits of the bible that don't make any sense to me were added by crazy people.
I've already been working on seeing myself through the eyes of source, and know that when that's easier, seeing others through those same eyes as well will follow. Interesting that this approach didn't occur to me before; perhaps it's because it's harder to change your perspective on things that have already shown up in physical reality.
I'm not sure what the end result of seeing her that way will be, but I have faith (which is what she named me) that my perspective will grow more perfect, and the least that can happen is that I feel better.
It's kind of hard to picture getting to a place where I can see her that way without having upstream thoughts--I see myself as Buddha, yet that personification dissipates in the context of Vernon, Alabama (my home town, where my parents still live), even in my mind. So I try to think the next downstream thought about my mom.
The progression in most situations goes something like this: despair, to revenge, to anger, to frustration, to hope, to belief, to joy, and so forth.
I was in despair through much of my youth, which I didn't blame on my mom. When I came out of it, I was quite angry with her, and I have to say I've been frustrated with her as well, many times. I'm no longer angry, but it's difficult for me to call the feeling I have hope. Pity, yes; hope, no.
I can picture her free of doubt and fear, but this picture of her is always involves her dying first and being finally able to see things clearly. That's not the vibration I want to put out into the universe.
But maybe Jesus (truly or metaphorically) wasn't worried about hope when he healed the sick. He just saw what was, even though what was wasn't physically standing in front of him. Anyway, my hope isn't to change my mom in any way; it's just to have a relationship with her without compromising myself.
Maybe I think too much. Maybe the key isn't to specify exactly what I'm hoping will happen; rather it's just to feel as good as I can. Feel as true to myself--all of myself--as I can.
And I can feel good if I know that what my mom says and does and feels is only the tip of the iceberg that is her. And maybe that's seeing her through the eyes of source, or at least floating in that general direction.
Abraham's advice to him was to picture his friend through the eyes of source; see him as the whole and perfect being he really is, even if the physical reality doesn't match that. Jesus, according to Abraham, did that, and held their perfect reality in such strong vibration that their imperfections couldn't stay with him there. Thus he healed the sick. Not sure how I feel about Jesus in general, but that's probably related to how I feel about my mom and what she taught me about him. I am feeling a little more charitable toward him since Abraham speaks of him favorably, but--well, that's where I am. I shall operate under the assumption that the bits of the bible that don't make any sense to me were added by crazy people.
I've already been working on seeing myself through the eyes of source, and know that when that's easier, seeing others through those same eyes as well will follow. Interesting that this approach didn't occur to me before; perhaps it's because it's harder to change your perspective on things that have already shown up in physical reality.
I'm not sure what the end result of seeing her that way will be, but I have faith (which is what she named me) that my perspective will grow more perfect, and the least that can happen is that I feel better.
It's kind of hard to picture getting to a place where I can see her that way without having upstream thoughts--I see myself as Buddha, yet that personification dissipates in the context of Vernon, Alabama (my home town, where my parents still live), even in my mind. So I try to think the next downstream thought about my mom.
The progression in most situations goes something like this: despair, to revenge, to anger, to frustration, to hope, to belief, to joy, and so forth.
I was in despair through much of my youth, which I didn't blame on my mom. When I came out of it, I was quite angry with her, and I have to say I've been frustrated with her as well, many times. I'm no longer angry, but it's difficult for me to call the feeling I have hope. Pity, yes; hope, no.
I can picture her free of doubt and fear, but this picture of her is always involves her dying first and being finally able to see things clearly. That's not the vibration I want to put out into the universe.
But maybe Jesus (truly or metaphorically) wasn't worried about hope when he healed the sick. He just saw what was, even though what was wasn't physically standing in front of him. Anyway, my hope isn't to change my mom in any way; it's just to have a relationship with her without compromising myself.
Maybe I think too much. Maybe the key isn't to specify exactly what I'm hoping will happen; rather it's just to feel as good as I can. Feel as true to myself--all of myself--as I can.
And I can feel good if I know that what my mom says and does and feels is only the tip of the iceberg that is her. And maybe that's seeing her through the eyes of source, or at least floating in that general direction.
Feeling rich
I know that how I feel is my responsibility. If I feel poor or uncoordinated or fearful, I can't point my finger at someone else and say, "You made me feel this way! Now you must pay!"
There are, though, things that other people do or say or just are that make me feel good. Esther gives the example of thinking of granddaughter Kate or contented cat to bring her into greater alignment, i.e. make her feel good.
So it's not my girlfriend's responsibility to make me feel good, but she does. Among other ways, she makes me feel rich.
She doesn't do this by buying me trinkets or taking me out to eat, or by spending time with me on my days off while I'm pretending I'm already in the place where I don't have to work for money.
We'll be in the car, driving to the vet or to the grocery store or to the beach for a mini-vacation, and I'll look over at her. Her hair is down, sunglasses are on, and the windows are open. Her expression says, "I don't give a fuck about anything but this moment," an expression rarely seen on anyone other than ne'er-do-wells or the privileged elite (best exhibited by people who fall into both categories). I picture her driving a Jaguar convertible and she looks exactly the same, the song "California Soul," playing in the background in my mind.
I feel myself sitting next to this beautiful, carefree woman, and know that I am privileged. I must be rich.
There are, though, things that other people do or say or just are that make me feel good. Esther gives the example of thinking of granddaughter Kate or contented cat to bring her into greater alignment, i.e. make her feel good.
So it's not my girlfriend's responsibility to make me feel good, but she does. Among other ways, she makes me feel rich.
She doesn't do this by buying me trinkets or taking me out to eat, or by spending time with me on my days off while I'm pretending I'm already in the place where I don't have to work for money.
We'll be in the car, driving to the vet or to the grocery store or to the beach for a mini-vacation, and I'll look over at her. Her hair is down, sunglasses are on, and the windows are open. Her expression says, "I don't give a fuck about anything but this moment," an expression rarely seen on anyone other than ne'er-do-wells or the privileged elite (best exhibited by people who fall into both categories). I picture her driving a Jaguar convertible and she looks exactly the same, the song "California Soul," playing in the background in my mind.
I feel myself sitting next to this beautiful, carefree woman, and know that I am privileged. I must be rich.
Massage music
One of our favorite pastimes at the McSpa where I work is making fun of the music. It's . . . grating, at best. As much as we tune it out, every now and then we'll pause in the middle of a massage to realize we're hearing the same 3 chords over and over and over and over and over again, or running water, or whale sounds (I don't care what you think; it's not melodic). Rather than let it get to me, I've turned it into a mental sport. For example, last night a particularly strange song reminded me of Jonssi of Sigur Ros's vocal technique of singing into his guitar pickup, so I pretended it was Sigur Ros until it was replaced by one of the repetitive numbers.
It also makes for fun conversation with some of the clients, who are as perplexed by some of the selections as we are. Rare is the client who comments on how relaxing the music is; more often the comments run along the lines of, "I'm glad I went to the bathroom before we started because this running water stuff would really get to me. I hope you guys have learned to tune it out."
My favorite memory is of an interaction during a couples massage; one of the clients asked, "What do you call this music?" My fellow therapist replied, "Torture."
What I find interesting is that one of the estheticians goes to the manager about once a week and complains about how bad the music is, so he changes it--to something worse.
In the spirit of appreciation, I really do enjoy the entertainment value. I think of it as Mystery Science Theater 3000 with Muzak. More than that, I appreciate that when I see my private clients I play a mix of E.S.T., Air, and Vince Guaraldi.
Friday night, during another couples massage, one of the clients made fun of the running water track, and my coworker said, "At least it's not whale sounds."
And that tiny bit of appreciation opened a new current of conversation, during which two lesbians and two church-going pro-lifers agreed that the best part of Finding Nemo was Ellen Degeneres's character Dory, speaking whale and never remembering Nemo's name.
Sometimes it's easy to appreciate the contrast that shows us what we like and what we don't.
Addendum: Today, during a 2-hour massage, the most bizarre song I've heard in my life came on. I would have titled it, "Ghostly Chickens on Holiday at the Shore." Sea-related nature sounds were predominant, but there was a repeating theme of what I could only describe as morose chickens clucking from beyond the grave. My coworker Galina commented that it sounded to her more like someone poking a stick at a cat, and everyone in session during that hour (it played from about 12:20-12:30; forever long song) got a great deal of amusement from it. I can only hope that my focusing on the music with amusement doesn't create more torture for other coworkers. :)
It also makes for fun conversation with some of the clients, who are as perplexed by some of the selections as we are. Rare is the client who comments on how relaxing the music is; more often the comments run along the lines of, "I'm glad I went to the bathroom before we started because this running water stuff would really get to me. I hope you guys have learned to tune it out."
My favorite memory is of an interaction during a couples massage; one of the clients asked, "What do you call this music?" My fellow therapist replied, "Torture."
What I find interesting is that one of the estheticians goes to the manager about once a week and complains about how bad the music is, so he changes it--to something worse.
In the spirit of appreciation, I really do enjoy the entertainment value. I think of it as Mystery Science Theater 3000 with Muzak. More than that, I appreciate that when I see my private clients I play a mix of E.S.T., Air, and Vince Guaraldi.
Friday night, during another couples massage, one of the clients made fun of the running water track, and my coworker said, "At least it's not whale sounds."
And that tiny bit of appreciation opened a new current of conversation, during which two lesbians and two church-going pro-lifers agreed that the best part of Finding Nemo was Ellen Degeneres's character Dory, speaking whale and never remembering Nemo's name.
Sometimes it's easy to appreciate the contrast that shows us what we like and what we don't.
Addendum: Today, during a 2-hour massage, the most bizarre song I've heard in my life came on. I would have titled it, "Ghostly Chickens on Holiday at the Shore." Sea-related nature sounds were predominant, but there was a repeating theme of what I could only describe as morose chickens clucking from beyond the grave. My coworker Galina commented that it sounded to her more like someone poking a stick at a cat, and everyone in session during that hour (it played from about 12:20-12:30; forever long song) got a great deal of amusement from it. I can only hope that my focusing on the music with amusement doesn't create more torture for other coworkers. :)
Today I appreciate . . .
that Dmitri only has one more dose of Prednisone before his surgery tomorrow.
that his surgery will be over with tomorrow.
that my uber-hot girlfriend is coming over late tonight and going with me to drop him off in the morning.
that I woke up in time to make a blog post, however short.
that I'll have plenty of time tomorrow and Wednesday and Thursdays to make longer blog posts.
that I have enough coffee and toothpaste to get through the morning, and that my workplace is very close to Target.
that we're planning a cruise to Mexico in December.
that Dmitri is the best dog *ever*, and that his vibrational indicator of turning over the garbage can yesterday let me know that he'd like visitors while I'm at work today.
that my ex loves Dmitri as much as I do and is happy to come visit him.
soy creamer in my coffee.
sweaters and winter crocs (it's colder inside than outside).
that I got lots of sleep last night.
my fun coworkers.
music.
computers.
did I mention coffee yet?
that his surgery will be over with tomorrow.
that my uber-hot girlfriend is coming over late tonight and going with me to drop him off in the morning.
that I woke up in time to make a blog post, however short.
that I'll have plenty of time tomorrow and Wednesday and Thursdays to make longer blog posts.
that I have enough coffee and toothpaste to get through the morning, and that my workplace is very close to Target.
that we're planning a cruise to Mexico in December.
that Dmitri is the best dog *ever*, and that his vibrational indicator of turning over the garbage can yesterday let me know that he'd like visitors while I'm at work today.
that my ex loves Dmitri as much as I do and is happy to come visit him.
soy creamer in my coffee.
sweaters and winter crocs (it's colder inside than outside).
that I got lots of sleep last night.
my fun coworkers.
music.
computers.
did I mention coffee yet?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Weird Voicemail
The other day my phone rang in the middle of a massage. Strictly speaking I'm not supposed to have it in the room with me, since it has a camera on it, but I keep forgetting to take it out of my pocket. The rule seems a little silly to me, since I can't imagine stopping the massage long enough to take pictures without the client noticing, and even if I did, they'd be completely draped. What the hell would I take pictures of? Back hair?
It was on vibrate, but even that's noisy enough to be embarrassing.
I remembered to check it on my next break. My girlfriend, who works with me, had a break at the same time as me (slow day), so we went outside to enjoy the weather for a few. I saw it was my mom (no embarrassing secrets there--not the credit card company), so I put my phone on speaker and played the message. She wanted to let me know they were going out of town this weekend; she's going to Indiana with my dad for his USMC reunion because she loves him, and she loves me, and she's so sorry I decided to follow Satan.
At this point I burst into laughter, and my girlfriend, who hadn't heard it clearly, or hadn't believed her ears, said, "What was that?" So I rewound it and played it again.
"Oh, Faithy," Jessica said, putting her arm around me and shaking her head. She seemed to feel some pain for me, while I was only laughing.
My mom went on to recommend that I read Isaiah chapters 14-16, which was her daily bible reading for that day, specifically in the New Living Translation. Perhaps she thought New International Version wouldn't be in plain enough English.
We dutifully walked down to Borders, grabbed an NLT bible, and looked it up. It's one of those selections in which god threatens to smite the people who forsake him in graphic detail. Corpses, ashes, rape, Lucifer fell from heaven . . . you know the bit. (If you don't know the bit, and you're into horror movies, I recommend picking up the old testament every now and again for a good dose of gore and violence.)
That night Jessica and I drove to the shore for a 24-hour mini-vacation, and I haven't really had a chance to write until today. I mulled over what I should write about the phone message; thought about making an mp3 file to share with my brother (he'd laugh, too); thought about using it in some music editing software that I downloaded and don't know how to use yet (I decided to go ahead and delete the message, in case you're wondering); thought about why I'd laughed while Jessica looked troubled; thought about how I feel about my mother. For more giggles, I also thought about what she'd say if she knew I spent my spare time listening to a woman channeling a group of entities who call themselves Abraham. See the post about Abraham for ideas of what she'd think. Specifically, the bit about the herd of pigs going off the cliff.
I do care for my mother. To be sure, she doesn't call every week with a message of fire and brimstone, weeping and gnashing of teeth. It does come up occasionally, though. I've discovered that the best thing for me to do is to not say anything. If it's a live phone call, I just sit there until she says something else. Every now and then I'll try a "We'll never agree about this," or something similar, but it's much more effective just to clam up. So I emailed her, "Thanks for letting me know you guys are going out of town."
My mother is very religious, if you hadn't guessed. She also has anxiety disorder with components of depression and obsessive-compulsive behavior. I link her beliefs with her state of mind because I know that my state of mind greatly improved when I gave up on trying to reconcile those same beliefs with what I felt to be true. I would never suggest that she give them up, though.
That's not because I fear she would feel lost without them, though I'm sure she would. I just know that there's no point arguing with people who have their minds made up. No matter what evidence you come up with, they stick to their guns, digging themselves deeper illogical trenches, until there's no way they'll ever change their minds because they've invested too much time and energy in their stance. Look at one of my mom's heroes, Glenn Beck, for example. (I try not to look at him too much myself. It's hard to stay in vibrational alignment when you have the creeps.)
So there's not much for me to do except picture how relieved she'll be when she dies and find out that there's no god waiting to send her youngest child to hell for being homosexual and forsaking the church. Still, I feel a little off about it all, and today I realized why.
I feel sorry for my mom. Genuinely, sadly sorry.
Imagine what it must be like to go through life believing in an angry god, believing two* of your children have forsaken him and his very narrow offer of redemption, believing . . . well, lots of things that don't really warm the cockles of your heart. Obsessing over those beliefs and worrying yourself into distraction, illness and loneliness.
I really have no idea how to find a downstream thought from there.
*The other child who has forsaken god is my brother, Andrew, who is divorced and living with a woman he's not married to. Her name is Tracie and she's super awesome. Add to that the fact that he's not poor, and our parents taught us that while money is not the root of all evil, the love of money is; and if you have any money you must love it enough to go out and get it. My sister has not lost the faith, but she and her husband do own a vacation cabin in the Adirondacks, so I'm not sure where that puts her on Mom's worry list.
It was on vibrate, but even that's noisy enough to be embarrassing.
I remembered to check it on my next break. My girlfriend, who works with me, had a break at the same time as me (slow day), so we went outside to enjoy the weather for a few. I saw it was my mom (no embarrassing secrets there--not the credit card company), so I put my phone on speaker and played the message. She wanted to let me know they were going out of town this weekend; she's going to Indiana with my dad for his USMC reunion because she loves him, and she loves me, and she's so sorry I decided to follow Satan.
At this point I burst into laughter, and my girlfriend, who hadn't heard it clearly, or hadn't believed her ears, said, "What was that?" So I rewound it and played it again.
"Oh, Faithy," Jessica said, putting her arm around me and shaking her head. She seemed to feel some pain for me, while I was only laughing.
My mom went on to recommend that I read Isaiah chapters 14-16, which was her daily bible reading for that day, specifically in the New Living Translation. Perhaps she thought New International Version wouldn't be in plain enough English.
We dutifully walked down to Borders, grabbed an NLT bible, and looked it up. It's one of those selections in which god threatens to smite the people who forsake him in graphic detail. Corpses, ashes, rape, Lucifer fell from heaven . . . you know the bit. (If you don't know the bit, and you're into horror movies, I recommend picking up the old testament every now and again for a good dose of gore and violence.)
That night Jessica and I drove to the shore for a 24-hour mini-vacation, and I haven't really had a chance to write until today. I mulled over what I should write about the phone message; thought about making an mp3 file to share with my brother (he'd laugh, too); thought about using it in some music editing software that I downloaded and don't know how to use yet (I decided to go ahead and delete the message, in case you're wondering); thought about why I'd laughed while Jessica looked troubled; thought about how I feel about my mother. For more giggles, I also thought about what she'd say if she knew I spent my spare time listening to a woman channeling a group of entities who call themselves Abraham. See the post about Abraham for ideas of what she'd think. Specifically, the bit about the herd of pigs going off the cliff.
I do care for my mother. To be sure, she doesn't call every week with a message of fire and brimstone, weeping and gnashing of teeth. It does come up occasionally, though. I've discovered that the best thing for me to do is to not say anything. If it's a live phone call, I just sit there until she says something else. Every now and then I'll try a "We'll never agree about this," or something similar, but it's much more effective just to clam up. So I emailed her, "Thanks for letting me know you guys are going out of town."
My mother is very religious, if you hadn't guessed. She also has anxiety disorder with components of depression and obsessive-compulsive behavior. I link her beliefs with her state of mind because I know that my state of mind greatly improved when I gave up on trying to reconcile those same beliefs with what I felt to be true. I would never suggest that she give them up, though.
That's not because I fear she would feel lost without them, though I'm sure she would. I just know that there's no point arguing with people who have their minds made up. No matter what evidence you come up with, they stick to their guns, digging themselves deeper illogical trenches, until there's no way they'll ever change their minds because they've invested too much time and energy in their stance. Look at one of my mom's heroes, Glenn Beck, for example. (I try not to look at him too much myself. It's hard to stay in vibrational alignment when you have the creeps.)
So there's not much for me to do except picture how relieved she'll be when she dies and find out that there's no god waiting to send her youngest child to hell for being homosexual and forsaking the church. Still, I feel a little off about it all, and today I realized why.
I feel sorry for my mom. Genuinely, sadly sorry.
Imagine what it must be like to go through life believing in an angry god, believing two* of your children have forsaken him and his very narrow offer of redemption, believing . . . well, lots of things that don't really warm the cockles of your heart. Obsessing over those beliefs and worrying yourself into distraction, illness and loneliness.
I really have no idea how to find a downstream thought from there.
*The other child who has forsaken god is my brother, Andrew, who is divorced and living with a woman he's not married to. Her name is Tracie and she's super awesome. Add to that the fact that he's not poor, and our parents taught us that while money is not the root of all evil, the love of money is; and if you have any money you must love it enough to go out and get it. My sister has not lost the faith, but she and her husband do own a vacation cabin in the Adirondacks, so I'm not sure where that puts her on Mom's worry list.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Where's my stuff?
I love the excerpts from in-person appearances that are tacked on to the ends of Jerry and Esther's books. One theme that recurs is the question, "Where's my stuff?"
The people who ask that question agree to go along with Abraham's advice to try to feel better to get to their stuff, and Abraham always points out how much better they will feel when they're in vibrational alignment with source. Apparently that's the whole point--to get into vibrational alignment. We just want our stuff, though, and the vibrational alignment is the means, not the end in our minds. This is not the mindset that will actually get anybody feeling better, though, and we hang on to our wanting longer and longer.
I think I understand the reluctance to let go of that feeling of discontent: my fear, in any case, is that if I go ahead and feel better, I won't care anymore if I get my stuff, and then I might not get it. At least, that's my belief.
Somehow I feel this is related to the Buddhist concept of non-attachment, and the Taoist wu wei, the idea of non-doing, or doing without doing. I like to think of it as doing without striving. Neville Goddard said that once you feel you have already accomplished what you want to, already have what you're wishing for, then it will come. It's a hard feeling to come by if you like physical evidence, which most of us do. And while I've romanticized the idea of living in a hunter-gatherer society, I like technology, and I have this weird fear of becoming a happy poverty-stricken child in a 3rd world country.
And I think of myself as a basically logical person.
I like Abraham/Esther's way of describing getting to that feeling better than Neville's. Neville would have me imagine my stuff, feel it all around me and really feel like it's here. I can even give myself a deadline for it getting here. The problem is that once I convince myself that it might come, that's as far as I can get, then the deadline comes and goes and I'm disappointed, moving me farther from the feeling of alignment, and of having my stuff.
Abraham, though, says just reach for a downstream thought. When we fight against how we feel, look at the world through pessimistic eyes and think that it's all up to sheer effort to make our dreams come true, it's like putting a boat in a river and paddling upstream. The current is strong, and the best we can hope for is turbulence. The key is to move downstream, and there are a whole spectrum of emotions we can move through to get to good feelings. How do we move downstream? Look for a feeling of relief.
When someone is in despair, it's a relief to feel angry. When someone is angry, it's a relief to feel frustrated. When someone is frustrated, it's a relief to feel hope, and so forth. When one is frustrated, it's not a relief to move into anger or despair.
I seem to oscillate between hope and frustration. Downstream from hope is belief, which has always been a struggle for me. I wonder whether that's because I tried to believe things that didn't ring true for me for many years of my life.
When I was a Christian, I spent many hours trying to logically explain the disconnect between what I felt was true and what I was told was true. I felt god inside of me, and I was told I was a lowly worm, contaminated with sin and not worthy to see god's face until his son became a blood sacrifice to make atonement. God is love, but he can't stand sin, and demands payment for it, and if you don't accept the credit account his son set up for you, you're going to hell, no matter how nice you are or what your beliefs are. Catholics beliefs are incorrect, so even Mother Theresa is going to burn in hell. Not to mention all the nice gay people minding their own business, whom I for some reason I related to though I didn't know any. It was a lot of work to explain away the inconsistencies I felt.
Luckily I met a lot of nice people over the years and finally decided that if God is love, then he can't be less nice than me, and I'd never send all those people to hell, no matter what they did or believed. That was the beginning of the biggest feeling of relief I've ever had. But it took years, and my fear of going to hell myself resurfaced periodically until it finally faded.
I'm looking forward to letting go of my fear of becoming truly poor, just as I let go of my fear of hell, and the feeling of relief that that will bring. And downstream is where all my stuff is, but I have a feeling that the feeling of relief will be worth more to me than any stuff I might end up with.
The people who ask that question agree to go along with Abraham's advice to try to feel better to get to their stuff, and Abraham always points out how much better they will feel when they're in vibrational alignment with source. Apparently that's the whole point--to get into vibrational alignment. We just want our stuff, though, and the vibrational alignment is the means, not the end in our minds. This is not the mindset that will actually get anybody feeling better, though, and we hang on to our wanting longer and longer.
I think I understand the reluctance to let go of that feeling of discontent: my fear, in any case, is that if I go ahead and feel better, I won't care anymore if I get my stuff, and then I might not get it. At least, that's my belief.
Somehow I feel this is related to the Buddhist concept of non-attachment, and the Taoist wu wei, the idea of non-doing, or doing without doing. I like to think of it as doing without striving. Neville Goddard said that once you feel you have already accomplished what you want to, already have what you're wishing for, then it will come. It's a hard feeling to come by if you like physical evidence, which most of us do. And while I've romanticized the idea of living in a hunter-gatherer society, I like technology, and I have this weird fear of becoming a happy poverty-stricken child in a 3rd world country.
And I think of myself as a basically logical person.
I like Abraham/Esther's way of describing getting to that feeling better than Neville's. Neville would have me imagine my stuff, feel it all around me and really feel like it's here. I can even give myself a deadline for it getting here. The problem is that once I convince myself that it might come, that's as far as I can get, then the deadline comes and goes and I'm disappointed, moving me farther from the feeling of alignment, and of having my stuff.
Abraham, though, says just reach for a downstream thought. When we fight against how we feel, look at the world through pessimistic eyes and think that it's all up to sheer effort to make our dreams come true, it's like putting a boat in a river and paddling upstream. The current is strong, and the best we can hope for is turbulence. The key is to move downstream, and there are a whole spectrum of emotions we can move through to get to good feelings. How do we move downstream? Look for a feeling of relief.
When someone is in despair, it's a relief to feel angry. When someone is angry, it's a relief to feel frustrated. When someone is frustrated, it's a relief to feel hope, and so forth. When one is frustrated, it's not a relief to move into anger or despair.
I seem to oscillate between hope and frustration. Downstream from hope is belief, which has always been a struggle for me. I wonder whether that's because I tried to believe things that didn't ring true for me for many years of my life.
When I was a Christian, I spent many hours trying to logically explain the disconnect between what I felt was true and what I was told was true. I felt god inside of me, and I was told I was a lowly worm, contaminated with sin and not worthy to see god's face until his son became a blood sacrifice to make atonement. God is love, but he can't stand sin, and demands payment for it, and if you don't accept the credit account his son set up for you, you're going to hell, no matter how nice you are or what your beliefs are. Catholics beliefs are incorrect, so even Mother Theresa is going to burn in hell. Not to mention all the nice gay people minding their own business, whom I for some reason I related to though I didn't know any. It was a lot of work to explain away the inconsistencies I felt.
Luckily I met a lot of nice people over the years and finally decided that if God is love, then he can't be less nice than me, and I'd never send all those people to hell, no matter what they did or believed. That was the beginning of the biggest feeling of relief I've ever had. But it took years, and my fear of going to hell myself resurfaced periodically until it finally faded.
I'm looking forward to letting go of my fear of becoming truly poor, just as I let go of my fear of hell, and the feeling of relief that that will bring. And downstream is where all my stuff is, but I have a feeling that the feeling of relief will be worth more to me than any stuff I might end up with.
The eyes of source
My girlfriend and I had a misunderstanding the other night and I ended up bursting into tears.
She hadn't said anything to hurt my feelings. I had said something thoughtless--a joke, actually--and as it came out of my mouth I felt a twinge of, "That doesn't sound right." It touched a nerve, and we had a few moments of silence while she arranged her thoughts.
I really hate those moments of silence. First of all, I can't stand the thought of hurting her feelings. Secondly, if I think I've hurt someone's feelings I can almost never put my finger on exactly which part of it hurt them. I might know that something was not quite right, but often the worst part of what said or implied (and usually didn't mean) I am completely clueless about.
My friend Kathy used to serve as translator for me. I'd say, "I think such-and-such is mad at me and I don't know why." She'd ask what I'd said or done, and when I told her she'd roll her eyes and explain my faux pas in monosyllabic terms. I'd then get on the phone and grovel until my apology was accepted.
My girlfriend, on the other hand, has quite a fiery temper, knows it, and is careful to not speak until she's sure she can do so calmly. I've yet to receive the brunt of an uncensored reaction from her, so I don't know whether I'll do better with that than with the silence.
It finally came out; I was miserable; I cried. I have a horrible habit of beating myself up about being socially inept--which, objectively speaking, I'm really not too often. I worked very hard for many years to become as socially, um, ept as I am, and the occasional transgression brings back memories of years of struggle and loneliness. And then I was embarrassed and angry with myself for crying so easily.
Abraham, via Esther, has been talking about how any unpleasant feelings we have are solely caused by not being in alignment with source--the bit of god who is us--the electricity who runs our fleshly toaster. He/she says that if we could see ourselves through the eyes of source, we would only have pure love for ourselves.
When it was stylish to struggle with self esteem I did that. Since then I have found that self esteem is far to simplistic a term to define how I relate to myself. Just like with other people, there are parts of myself that I really love and parts that I'd rather just find the off switch for.
Esther recommends meditating for realigning with source's vibrations. She meditated for 15-20 minutes a day for 9 months before Abraham came into her life. I'm not sure that I'm looking for an Abraham per se, but I've always yearned to know in my heart what I know in my head. Of course, for a long time what I thought I knew in my head didn't really ring true to me, so I understand the disconnect there. My beliefs do ring true now, but there's still a small chasm between thought and feeling that I'd like to close. A little connection to universal truth would likely close that gap, if only for a few moments at a time.
So I'm getting out my Holosync cd's again, and making a bedside set-up for morning or evening meditation (as the mood strikes me). I'll keep you posted on the progress. And I'm looking forward to being more aligned with my source energy.
She hadn't said anything to hurt my feelings. I had said something thoughtless--a joke, actually--and as it came out of my mouth I felt a twinge of, "That doesn't sound right." It touched a nerve, and we had a few moments of silence while she arranged her thoughts.
I really hate those moments of silence. First of all, I can't stand the thought of hurting her feelings. Secondly, if I think I've hurt someone's feelings I can almost never put my finger on exactly which part of it hurt them. I might know that something was not quite right, but often the worst part of what said or implied (and usually didn't mean) I am completely clueless about.
My friend Kathy used to serve as translator for me. I'd say, "I think such-and-such is mad at me and I don't know why." She'd ask what I'd said or done, and when I told her she'd roll her eyes and explain my faux pas in monosyllabic terms. I'd then get on the phone and grovel until my apology was accepted.
My girlfriend, on the other hand, has quite a fiery temper, knows it, and is careful to not speak until she's sure she can do so calmly. I've yet to receive the brunt of an uncensored reaction from her, so I don't know whether I'll do better with that than with the silence.
It finally came out; I was miserable; I cried. I have a horrible habit of beating myself up about being socially inept--which, objectively speaking, I'm really not too often. I worked very hard for many years to become as socially, um, ept as I am, and the occasional transgression brings back memories of years of struggle and loneliness. And then I was embarrassed and angry with myself for crying so easily.
Abraham, via Esther, has been talking about how any unpleasant feelings we have are solely caused by not being in alignment with source--the bit of god who is us--the electricity who runs our fleshly toaster. He/she says that if we could see ourselves through the eyes of source, we would only have pure love for ourselves.
When it was stylish to struggle with self esteem I did that. Since then I have found that self esteem is far to simplistic a term to define how I relate to myself. Just like with other people, there are parts of myself that I really love and parts that I'd rather just find the off switch for.
Esther recommends meditating for realigning with source's vibrations. She meditated for 15-20 minutes a day for 9 months before Abraham came into her life. I'm not sure that I'm looking for an Abraham per se, but I've always yearned to know in my heart what I know in my head. Of course, for a long time what I thought I knew in my head didn't really ring true to me, so I understand the disconnect there. My beliefs do ring true now, but there's still a small chasm between thought and feeling that I'd like to close. A little connection to universal truth would likely close that gap, if only for a few moments at a time.
So I'm getting out my Holosync cd's again, and making a bedside set-up for morning or evening meditation (as the mood strikes me). I'll keep you posted on the progress. And I'm looking forward to being more aligned with my source energy.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Jedi mind tricks
When Dmitri is riding in the back of my car, he manifests open windows regularly. Sometimes he goes from window to window and manifests over and over again within the space of a few minutes. I can see that he fixes in his mind the idea of the window opening and it magically obeys his will. We call it his Jedi mind trick--he stares at the window until it does what he wants it to. If the window is reluctant to comply, he adds a verbal cue--a soft "woof" to more concretely plant the thought in the mind of the window.
Of course, a human observer would think that the trick only works because I think the look he gives the window is cute, and the sight of his head hanging out is even cuter, so I manipulate the buttons by my seat to make his dreams come true. I guess that's one way of looking at it. But this discounts a couple of factors:
How do I know he manifests other things? Just a guess. He has regular meals and air conditioning and lives in a climate with seasons. These are all improvements over his early life.
When I first met Dmitri, his name was Crimson and he lived at the vet's office on the corner of my street in New Orleans. He was a year and a half old, still had his balls, had heart worms, weighed 45 pounds and had been hit by a truck. His former owners left him there because they couldn't pay the $600 surgery bill to repair his leg. Now I wish he that if he must have surgery that he would only require surgeries that cost a paltry $600. He now lives in North Carolina, which is warm enough but does enjoy a brief winter--a nice change with a fur coat like his. He weighs 75 pounds. And his new owner (me) is always as happy to see him as he is to see me, loves taking walks and is a very messy eater to boot so there are always crumbs to be found. What more could a dog ask for?
I'll admit that his becoming a eunuch was entirely my idea.
Of course, a human observer would think that the trick only works because I think the look he gives the window is cute, and the sight of his head hanging out is even cuter, so I manipulate the buttons by my seat to make his dreams come true. I guess that's one way of looking at it. But this discounts a couple of factors:
- I used to get tired of the window-to-window-to-first-window rotation in the process, and tell him, "Tough. You're just going to have to stick with the passenger's side window." This attitude has since left me, and we are both endlessly entertained by the window trick.
- He manifests lots of other things.
How do I know he manifests other things? Just a guess. He has regular meals and air conditioning and lives in a climate with seasons. These are all improvements over his early life.
When I first met Dmitri, his name was Crimson and he lived at the vet's office on the corner of my street in New Orleans. He was a year and a half old, still had his balls, had heart worms, weighed 45 pounds and had been hit by a truck. His former owners left him there because they couldn't pay the $600 surgery bill to repair his leg. Now I wish he that if he must have surgery that he would only require surgeries that cost a paltry $600. He now lives in North Carolina, which is warm enough but does enjoy a brief winter--a nice change with a fur coat like his. He weighs 75 pounds. And his new owner (me) is always as happy to see him as he is to see me, loves taking walks and is a very messy eater to boot so there are always crumbs to be found. What more could a dog ask for?
I'll admit that his becoming a eunuch was entirely my idea.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
the coolest leather jacket ever
The problem with working at Massage Envy at 8 am on a Tuesday is that I often drag myself out of bed, make the 40 minute drive, and clock in to find that I'm not booked until 10. None of the stores on our shopping strip open until 9:30, so I either hole up in my treatment room and read, or wander around outside.
Yesterday I wandered around the entire strip, looking in the windows of stores I've never been in, and when I got to the last store I saw the coolest leather jacket ever. White stripes down the sleeves--like a motorcycle jacket from the 60's--with just enough zippers to not be plain. There's nothing worse than a jacket with too many zippers. I've been wanting a cool jacket to wear on my motorcycle ever since I got a motorcycle.
After my girlfriend got to work we both had an hour and a half to kill (my lunch break, her beginning-of-work lull, which apparently isn't exclusive to 8 am shifts), so I walked her over to the store to show her the uber cool jacket. They had a small; I tried it on; she said it was super-hot on me. I saved looking at the price until this moment, thinking I could put it in my vibrational checkbook. A fancy leather jacket could cost anywhere from $100-300, right?
As it turns out, it's not leather at all, though it looks and feels real, and the store isn't where the rich and famous shop. So for $24.99, I got my fancy leather jacket. And I'll never tell.
But here's the kicker--my girlfriend is a skeptic. This is due to years of training from her husband (we are polyamorous), the classic scientific mind, years of struggling with a fucked-up religious upbringing, and a facet of her personality that has to do with being from Missouri. And her comment, when I was going on about my luck at finding such a steal?
"Maybe it's those vibrations."
She was probably being a smartass. Or maybe not.
Yesterday I wandered around the entire strip, looking in the windows of stores I've never been in, and when I got to the last store I saw the coolest leather jacket ever. White stripes down the sleeves--like a motorcycle jacket from the 60's--with just enough zippers to not be plain. There's nothing worse than a jacket with too many zippers. I've been wanting a cool jacket to wear on my motorcycle ever since I got a motorcycle.
After my girlfriend got to work we both had an hour and a half to kill (my lunch break, her beginning-of-work lull, which apparently isn't exclusive to 8 am shifts), so I walked her over to the store to show her the uber cool jacket. They had a small; I tried it on; she said it was super-hot on me. I saved looking at the price until this moment, thinking I could put it in my vibrational checkbook. A fancy leather jacket could cost anywhere from $100-300, right?
As it turns out, it's not leather at all, though it looks and feels real, and the store isn't where the rich and famous shop. So for $24.99, I got my fancy leather jacket. And I'll never tell.
But here's the kicker--my girlfriend is a skeptic. This is due to years of training from her husband (we are polyamorous), the classic scientific mind, years of struggling with a fucked-up religious upbringing, and a facet of her personality that has to do with being from Missouri. And her comment, when I was going on about my luck at finding such a steal?
"Maybe it's those vibrations."
She was probably being a smartass. Or maybe not.
medical bills aren't actually bothering me
My revamped attitude toward money is really kicking in. I still have a little unease when it comes to thinking about bills in general, though they're all up to date. I find putting everything on auto-pay so I don't have to actually read my mail is a huge help--I just have to remember to check my balance around the first of the month to make sure my mortgage payment will go through. Unfortunately auto-pay isn't an option for the water bill, so I try to keep an eye out for that one.
So when I found out Dmitri needs a second surgery, and that it will likely cost around $1200, I was surprised and pleased by my lack of queasiness. After a day or so, I remembered I still have a little money left in a savings bond that I'd been using as an emergency fund. I decided to use it for the surgery, and that was that.
Then some friends found out how much D's surgery will cost, and while they're not rich, they're certainly more financially stable than me. They have insisted on paying it and won't take no for an answer. Dmitri is a close friend of theirs, too, and they've been in similar situations in the past.
What's weird is that when they told me they plan to pay for it, my first reaction wasn't relief, or discomfort with their offer, or hurt pride at not being able to take care of my finances. Which is weird--I would expect the hurt pride thing, at least. I just thought, "Oh."
I reflexively refused the offer (which is how I know about the insisting), though I didn't have any emotions either way about it. This made me curious, and I had to sit and think about why I tried to refuse.
When explaining it to my friends later, I was reminded of an event in my childhood--nothing earth shattering, just a small memory that's always stuck with me. I was at our preacher's house, and they had some people over for something that involved potluck. All church activities involved potluck, and I loved potluck. I loved food. I still love food. I was not involved in whatever activity was going on, though. I was just waiting for a ride.
Virginia, the preacher's wife, asked me if I was hungry and said I could help myself to whatever was on hand. I told her I wasn't hungry, which was a lie. I finally let myself have a single Pringles potato chip.
Looking back, I think, "Wow. That was fucked up." My parents had instilled in me the importance of not being any trouble, not taking up any space and always saying, "No, thank you," no matter what was offered, that I couldn't let myself even grab more than a single potato chip at a gathering with plenty of food.
Sometimes, though, the polite thing to do is to let people help--to let them feel the satisfaction of knowing that they can help. Sometimes I'm so stuck on not being any trouble that I can shut people out and frustrate them when there's nothing they'd rather do than be there for me.
I don't really care where the money comes from for Dmitri's surgery. Somehow I had the confidence that it would be paid for, whether from emergency funds or a winning lottery ticket. I've always paid for my pets' health care in the past, sometimes with anxiety, sometimes resignation, but it's always been doable. I based my assumption for this occurrence on that fact. That assumption opened the door, I believe, for the universe to provide for Dmitri through my friends.
So I have graciously and gratefully accepted their offer.
So when I found out Dmitri needs a second surgery, and that it will likely cost around $1200, I was surprised and pleased by my lack of queasiness. After a day or so, I remembered I still have a little money left in a savings bond that I'd been using as an emergency fund. I decided to use it for the surgery, and that was that.
Then some friends found out how much D's surgery will cost, and while they're not rich, they're certainly more financially stable than me. They have insisted on paying it and won't take no for an answer. Dmitri is a close friend of theirs, too, and they've been in similar situations in the past.
What's weird is that when they told me they plan to pay for it, my first reaction wasn't relief, or discomfort with their offer, or hurt pride at not being able to take care of my finances. Which is weird--I would expect the hurt pride thing, at least. I just thought, "Oh."
I reflexively refused the offer (which is how I know about the insisting), though I didn't have any emotions either way about it. This made me curious, and I had to sit and think about why I tried to refuse.
When explaining it to my friends later, I was reminded of an event in my childhood--nothing earth shattering, just a small memory that's always stuck with me. I was at our preacher's house, and they had some people over for something that involved potluck. All church activities involved potluck, and I loved potluck. I loved food. I still love food. I was not involved in whatever activity was going on, though. I was just waiting for a ride.
Virginia, the preacher's wife, asked me if I was hungry and said I could help myself to whatever was on hand. I told her I wasn't hungry, which was a lie. I finally let myself have a single Pringles potato chip.
Looking back, I think, "Wow. That was fucked up." My parents had instilled in me the importance of not being any trouble, not taking up any space and always saying, "No, thank you," no matter what was offered, that I couldn't let myself even grab more than a single potato chip at a gathering with plenty of food.
Sometimes, though, the polite thing to do is to let people help--to let them feel the satisfaction of knowing that they can help. Sometimes I'm so stuck on not being any trouble that I can shut people out and frustrate them when there's nothing they'd rather do than be there for me.
I don't really care where the money comes from for Dmitri's surgery. Somehow I had the confidence that it would be paid for, whether from emergency funds or a winning lottery ticket. I've always paid for my pets' health care in the past, sometimes with anxiety, sometimes resignation, but it's always been doable. I based my assumption for this occurrence on that fact. That assumption opened the door, I believe, for the universe to provide for Dmitri through my friends.
So I have graciously and gratefully accepted their offer.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Returning to the fold
No, Mom, I'm not going back to church.
I've tried delving into the Law of Attraction stuff for years, off and on. It usually goes well for a while, then there's a dry spell, which I equate with St. John of the Cross's "Dark Night of the Soul," and then I lose interest. When I was following Neville Goddard's teaching more closely, I would get disappointed when I didn't manifest in the time frame I'd set, which would make it harder to create the feeling of already having what I want. I like how the Hicks teaching goes: I align myself and not worry about time frame. It makes it easier to not get disappointed and run out of patience.
I think the overall problem is that what I would really like is to not have have my income tied to productive work at all, and I have a hard time believing that's possible. I think that I'd like to read or go to school for a living, but once income is tied to it, it sounds less fun. Not that I've been able to find someone to pay me to do those things.
So I've been working for Massage Envy. They pay $16/hour, which is less than I've made since my first year out of nursing school, and thinking about that made me feel poor. I got pretty down about it, until a couple of weeks ago when I was joking with a client about winning the lottery.
She turns out to be a fan of The Secret, and reminded me that in the movie it's pointed out that some people who win lotteries win multiple lotteries. I wouldn't have thought anything about it except I had just read a news article about a woman who had won the Texas state lottery three times then moved to California. She visited Texas a few weeks ago and won again--her 4th jackpot bringing her overall winnings to $20 million.
Hmmmm, I thought. Perhaps I should look into this stuff again. So I downloaded Money and the Law of Attraction from Audible.com, and have been listening and aligning myself since.
She didn't show for her last appointment. I hope it's because she won the lottery.
I've tried delving into the Law of Attraction stuff for years, off and on. It usually goes well for a while, then there's a dry spell, which I equate with St. John of the Cross's "Dark Night of the Soul," and then I lose interest. When I was following Neville Goddard's teaching more closely, I would get disappointed when I didn't manifest in the time frame I'd set, which would make it harder to create the feeling of already having what I want. I like how the Hicks teaching goes: I align myself and not worry about time frame. It makes it easier to not get disappointed and run out of patience.
I think the overall problem is that what I would really like is to not have have my income tied to productive work at all, and I have a hard time believing that's possible. I think that I'd like to read or go to school for a living, but once income is tied to it, it sounds less fun. Not that I've been able to find someone to pay me to do those things.
So I've been working for Massage Envy. They pay $16/hour, which is less than I've made since my first year out of nursing school, and thinking about that made me feel poor. I got pretty down about it, until a couple of weeks ago when I was joking with a client about winning the lottery.
She turns out to be a fan of The Secret, and reminded me that in the movie it's pointed out that some people who win lotteries win multiple lotteries. I wouldn't have thought anything about it except I had just read a news article about a woman who had won the Texas state lottery three times then moved to California. She visited Texas a few weeks ago and won again--her 4th jackpot bringing her overall winnings to $20 million.
Hmmmm, I thought. Perhaps I should look into this stuff again. So I downloaded Money and the Law of Attraction from Audible.com, and have been listening and aligning myself since.
She didn't show for her last appointment. I hope it's because she won the lottery.
So who are these Hicks people? And what the hell is Abraham?
My friend Janet recommended Jerry and Esther Hicks's work to me. I had been interested in the concept of creating my own reality for years, and when Janet learned of my interested she recommended Ask and it is Given, which I immediately went out and bought.
It turns out that Esther Hicks channels a host of entities who refer to themselves as Abraham. Her husband Jerry pelts this group with questions about everything and they always have answers.
My immediate thoughts upon finding this out:
1. They're full of crap.
2. Abraham is a demon, or a group of demons, a la the Legion incident in Mark 5:1-26. It's the one where Jesus exorcises the demons and they go into a herd of pigs, who subsequently throw themselves off a cliff.
These ideas were probably influenced by my conservative Christian upbringing. Another thing that my conservative Christian upbringing gave me, though, is the ability to glean good stuff from most writing while leaving the crazy stuff for the people who are actually interested in it. This stems from the fact that there really aren't that many great writers among the Churches of Christ, my former affiliation, so if we wanted to read any religious literature we'd have to turn to less reliable sources, like Catholics and Baptists. By the time I left the church my reading interests had expanded to Buddhists, Taoists and Native Americans, which I could still filter for compatible-with-Christian values. We called this process "Eating the meat and spitting out the bones," which is to be recommended over its alternative, "Throwing out the baby with the bathwater."
So while I wasn't impressed with the alleged source of the information, I thought the information itself, for the most part, was pretty good.
My current stance is that I don't really care who or what Abraham is, as long as I can get useful information from him/them/it/whatever. It's similar to my stance on reincarnation--it's fun to think about, but it doesn't really affect my being in this exact moment, so I'm not too worried about it. I have, in fact, been to a channeling (not the Hicks-Abraham people), and hope to go to more. I found it wildly entertaining, and the people there were really nice. The entity told me that I was a subversive writer in a past life, and that's fun to think about.
The Hicks books aren't the only sources I use. I've read Joe Vitale, and I find him kind of annoying. A little used-car-salesman-ish. I've read a number of books by Neville Goddard, whom I rather like. His work is more about the process of visualizing what you want, and feeling the feeling of having already attained what you're aiming for, which is a little more complicated than the Hicks' idea of just aligning yourself vibrationally (as indicated by your emotions). The end result should be the same--when you're aligned vibrationally, you feel relief and happiness, which is what I imagine I'll feel when my dreams come to fruition. I'm also a long-time fan of hypnosis, meditation, and guided visualization.
I'll be putting the books and other resources I find helpful on my resources page. Stay tuned.
It turns out that Esther Hicks channels a host of entities who refer to themselves as Abraham. Her husband Jerry pelts this group with questions about everything and they always have answers.
My immediate thoughts upon finding this out:
1. They're full of crap.
2. Abraham is a demon, or a group of demons, a la the Legion incident in Mark 5:1-26. It's the one where Jesus exorcises the demons and they go into a herd of pigs, who subsequently throw themselves off a cliff.
These ideas were probably influenced by my conservative Christian upbringing. Another thing that my conservative Christian upbringing gave me, though, is the ability to glean good stuff from most writing while leaving the crazy stuff for the people who are actually interested in it. This stems from the fact that there really aren't that many great writers among the Churches of Christ, my former affiliation, so if we wanted to read any religious literature we'd have to turn to less reliable sources, like Catholics and Baptists. By the time I left the church my reading interests had expanded to Buddhists, Taoists and Native Americans, which I could still filter for compatible-with-Christian values. We called this process "Eating the meat and spitting out the bones," which is to be recommended over its alternative, "Throwing out the baby with the bathwater."
So while I wasn't impressed with the alleged source of the information, I thought the information itself, for the most part, was pretty good.
My current stance is that I don't really care who or what Abraham is, as long as I can get useful information from him/them/it/whatever. It's similar to my stance on reincarnation--it's fun to think about, but it doesn't really affect my being in this exact moment, so I'm not too worried about it. I have, in fact, been to a channeling (not the Hicks-Abraham people), and hope to go to more. I found it wildly entertaining, and the people there were really nice. The entity told me that I was a subversive writer in a past life, and that's fun to think about.
The Hicks books aren't the only sources I use. I've read Joe Vitale, and I find him kind of annoying. A little used-car-salesman-ish. I've read a number of books by Neville Goddard, whom I rather like. His work is more about the process of visualizing what you want, and feeling the feeling of having already attained what you're aiming for, which is a little more complicated than the Hicks' idea of just aligning yourself vibrationally (as indicated by your emotions). The end result should be the same--when you're aligned vibrationally, you feel relief and happiness, which is what I imagine I'll feel when my dreams come to fruition. I'm also a long-time fan of hypnosis, meditation, and guided visualization.
I'll be putting the books and other resources I find helpful on my resources page. Stay tuned.
Dog is my copilot
I knew there would be an example about pets coming up. I'm listening to The Astonishing Power of Emotions by Jerry and Esther Hicks, and they have a slew of examples of how to work through negative emotions. I was worried that when I got to the example (it's Example 30 if you want to look it up) it would make me feel worse by pointing out that it's my fault that Dmitri isn't well.
I was wrong.
According to Abraham, Dmitri is out of alignment because I am. He's willing to get sick himself to show me how out of alignment I've been. Trust me, I've been pretty out of alignment over the last few months. Mostly I've been concerned about finances--I'm working for Massage Envy rather than pursuing my dream of being totally self-employed. I enjoy working there; it's full of great therapists who are also fun people to hang with, but the pay is paltry compared to what I could make working less in my own home. I let that get the best of me a month or two ago--more in another post.
I think it's interesting that when I start to get more vibrationally aligned, I see more results of my lack of alignment. Instant gratification is my preference, but, as Abraham points out in Money and the Law of Attraction, instant gratification would mean that I miss out on the ride. What's the point of riding the rapids if you get in the river 10 feet from the end of the journey? What fun would that be?
Another interesting thought I have--he's been having lots of dreams for the past few weeks. I know because he woofs in his sleep. Sometimes it's accompanied with paw twitching, making me think he's having a good time chasing game. A couple of times I've heard growls and warning barks, like he's defending the home. Maybe he is. In any case, I can't help but think it's adorable because his lips stay closed the whole time so it's a muffled sound. I'm going to have to film it sometime. On occasion I'll wake him up, in case he doesn't feel like chasing off intruders in his sleep, and he always gives me a look like, "What?" and is instantly back to his laid-back happy self. Talk about living in the present.
And so instead of feeling guilty for bringing the boy down, I'm feeling really grateful to him for being in my life, and being such a great teacher. He's a very happy boy, very laid back, and his favorite activity on earth is to take a walk, which we have in common. He'd probably walk until his legs fell off--we discovered he needed an FHO when he kept walking without a peep until he couldn't put any weight on his bad leg (an old injury that wasn't properly taken care of before I met him). When he's watched me go through bouts of depression in the past, he has been unimpressed, ignoring my moroseness and perking up immediately when I reach for the leash to cheer myself up. He loves people and is always thrilled to have guests in the house. Also, he's popular with the ladies. ;) He knows what's worth dwelling on and what to let go of. Dwell on the happies (happies to Dmitri are walks, friends, petting sessions and treats), let go of the fear and loneliness.
Anyhoo . . . he is unimpressed with his own condition. His mood is just as good after surgery as it was before, and is, as always, thrilled when I get the leash out. So--for the next couple of weeks, it's lots of short walks (he will keep his stitches until his next surgery) and extra rubbing, scratching and massage: little things to make us both happy and positive thoughts all the way.
I was wrong.
According to Abraham, Dmitri is out of alignment because I am. He's willing to get sick himself to show me how out of alignment I've been. Trust me, I've been pretty out of alignment over the last few months. Mostly I've been concerned about finances--I'm working for Massage Envy rather than pursuing my dream of being totally self-employed. I enjoy working there; it's full of great therapists who are also fun people to hang with, but the pay is paltry compared to what I could make working less in my own home. I let that get the best of me a month or two ago--more in another post.
I think it's interesting that when I start to get more vibrationally aligned, I see more results of my lack of alignment. Instant gratification is my preference, but, as Abraham points out in Money and the Law of Attraction, instant gratification would mean that I miss out on the ride. What's the point of riding the rapids if you get in the river 10 feet from the end of the journey? What fun would that be?
Another interesting thought I have--he's been having lots of dreams for the past few weeks. I know because he woofs in his sleep. Sometimes it's accompanied with paw twitching, making me think he's having a good time chasing game. A couple of times I've heard growls and warning barks, like he's defending the home. Maybe he is. In any case, I can't help but think it's adorable because his lips stay closed the whole time so it's a muffled sound. I'm going to have to film it sometime. On occasion I'll wake him up, in case he doesn't feel like chasing off intruders in his sleep, and he always gives me a look like, "What?" and is instantly back to his laid-back happy self. Talk about living in the present.
And so instead of feeling guilty for bringing the boy down, I'm feeling really grateful to him for being in my life, and being such a great teacher. He's a very happy boy, very laid back, and his favorite activity on earth is to take a walk, which we have in common. He'd probably walk until his legs fell off--we discovered he needed an FHO when he kept walking without a peep until he couldn't put any weight on his bad leg (an old injury that wasn't properly taken care of before I met him). When he's watched me go through bouts of depression in the past, he has been unimpressed, ignoring my moroseness and perking up immediately when I reach for the leash to cheer myself up. He loves people and is always thrilled to have guests in the house. Also, he's popular with the ladies. ;) He knows what's worth dwelling on and what to let go of. Dwell on the happies (happies to Dmitri are walks, friends, petting sessions and treats), let go of the fear and loneliness.
Anyhoo . . . he is unimpressed with his own condition. His mood is just as good after surgery as it was before, and is, as always, thrilled when I get the leash out. So--for the next couple of weeks, it's lots of short walks (he will keep his stitches until his next surgery) and extra rubbing, scratching and massage: little things to make us both happy and positive thoughts all the way.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A sad turn . . .
I don't care if you're not a dog person. I love my dog. He's been with me for 8 years, which is longer than any other close non-parental relationship I've ever had. He's a trouper. He's always happy to see me, no matter what.
So when the vet called this morning to tell me that he was right about the small tumors, but that they found mast cells in the margins and Dmitri will need another surgery in 2 weeks, I was pretty hard hit.
I haven't found any material about how my mindset affects my pets' health (I have 2 cats, too). Are they in control of their own health, like we are? Is the Law of Attraction only loosely applicable when it comes to health in general? Who the hell knows? All I know is that I was vibrationally out of alignment, because I was depressed.
I tried getting angry to turn my emotional tide toward hope (anger, apparently, is closer to hope than depression is, according to the Hicks' material), but I could only stay mad for a minute, and I couldn't come up with anybody to be mad at other than the universe who made my dog malfunction. I spent a lot of time today trying to come up with more productive thoughts and emotions, and I finally decided that, whatever their official teachings on the subject might be, Dmitri is in charge of his own health. Within reason. God knows I feed him expensive enough food and take him for enough walks to keep him at the peak of health.
This didn't cheer me up quite as much as I needed to, but I do think of him as a sentient being, so it was the logical step. And if he's a sentient being, would it stand to reason that, if this disease killed him, he might reincarnate himself? I don't have an actual belief about reincarnation--I guess I sort of lean towards believing in it, but since it doesn't really affect how I live my life (whether it's my current or only one), I don't really care. But the thought that Dmitri might come back really cheered me up.
He is a very good dog. I know he would come back as whatever he would like to be. A free animal; a handsome young man. And I would be happy for him in his new life, as much as I'd miss him.
I know. Sappy fucking lesbians and their pets.
So then I started thinking about reincarnation in general, and whether an evil person like Hitler might come back as, say, a meat chicken in a factory farm.
I'll update this story line after his surgery. It's on the 20th.
So when the vet called this morning to tell me that he was right about the small tumors, but that they found mast cells in the margins and Dmitri will need another surgery in 2 weeks, I was pretty hard hit.
I haven't found any material about how my mindset affects my pets' health (I have 2 cats, too). Are they in control of their own health, like we are? Is the Law of Attraction only loosely applicable when it comes to health in general? Who the hell knows? All I know is that I was vibrationally out of alignment, because I was depressed.
I tried getting angry to turn my emotional tide toward hope (anger, apparently, is closer to hope than depression is, according to the Hicks' material), but I could only stay mad for a minute, and I couldn't come up with anybody to be mad at other than the universe who made my dog malfunction. I spent a lot of time today trying to come up with more productive thoughts and emotions, and I finally decided that, whatever their official teachings on the subject might be, Dmitri is in charge of his own health. Within reason. God knows I feed him expensive enough food and take him for enough walks to keep him at the peak of health.
This didn't cheer me up quite as much as I needed to, but I do think of him as a sentient being, so it was the logical step. And if he's a sentient being, would it stand to reason that, if this disease killed him, he might reincarnate himself? I don't have an actual belief about reincarnation--I guess I sort of lean towards believing in it, but since it doesn't really affect how I live my life (whether it's my current or only one), I don't really care. But the thought that Dmitri might come back really cheered me up.
He is a very good dog. I know he would come back as whatever he would like to be. A free animal; a handsome young man. And I would be happy for him in his new life, as much as I'd miss him.
I know. Sappy fucking lesbians and their pets.
So then I started thinking about reincarnation in general, and whether an evil person like Hitler might come back as, say, a meat chicken in a factory farm.
I'll update this story line after his surgery. It's on the 20th.
Early results
Early results were astounding. I was thrilled.
I wanted a new pool cue and a butch bracelet. My girlfriend brought both back from Vegas, where her team was ranked 33rd in the nation in the APA 9 ball tournament.
I wanted my house to be a bit tidier. I started a page about my home in my Positive Aspects log. My girlfriend started the process, making it easier for me to have my living room, bedroom and kitchen downright tidy. We won't bring up the office yet, or the fact that the mess is accumulating again, but--it's a process.
This next bit is two-part: Part 1: In my vibrational checkbook, I like to think about what I'll get in the future. I'm planning on building a butch cave (like a man cave, but for butch lesbians) in my backyard with a motorcycle garage, a pool table and room for all my musical instruments, many of which I'll buy with the vibrational checking account. On top of the list of instruments is a digital piano. Part 2: I have one of those tiny cigarette lighter air compressors that you use to pump up your car tires. It is a pain in my ass and I've no idea where it is. I can't bring myself to spend $70 on a cheap air compressor so I'll have a nicer one, and I nearly busted a gut trying to pump up my bicycle tires the other day.
My neighbors moved over the weekend. They had a shitload of free stuff in their front lawn, including a digital piano and a nice (probably better than $70) air compressor. Those are now mine. The piano is old (it has a floppy drive, for pete's sake), but very functional and I've already recorded myself playing and singing "Imagine" for my extremely hot girlfriend. She is always impressed with my musical abilities, even though my voice quavers a bit and I always hit wrong notes. She especially liked the "Oh, shit!" in the middle of her recording when I forgot what I was doing.
Finally, I took my dog in for a biopsy last week and the vet who did it told me it was a mast cell tumor. Dmitri (my dog) has a history of mast cell tumors, and they're not a huge deal if they can take the whole tumor off--we just have to watch him for new lumps. We scheduled the surgery with a different vet, and when we took him in for the surgery he said he looked at the slide from the biopsy and he didn't think it was mast cell (yay!) and not to worry. Dmitri did great with the surgery, and I managed to pay for it with not too much trouble.
Unfortunately, the vet story was to be continued.
I wanted a new pool cue and a butch bracelet. My girlfriend brought both back from Vegas, where her team was ranked 33rd in the nation in the APA 9 ball tournament.
I wanted my house to be a bit tidier. I started a page about my home in my Positive Aspects log. My girlfriend started the process, making it easier for me to have my living room, bedroom and kitchen downright tidy. We won't bring up the office yet, or the fact that the mess is accumulating again, but--it's a process.
This next bit is two-part: Part 1: In my vibrational checkbook, I like to think about what I'll get in the future. I'm planning on building a butch cave (like a man cave, but for butch lesbians) in my backyard with a motorcycle garage, a pool table and room for all my musical instruments, many of which I'll buy with the vibrational checking account. On top of the list of instruments is a digital piano. Part 2: I have one of those tiny cigarette lighter air compressors that you use to pump up your car tires. It is a pain in my ass and I've no idea where it is. I can't bring myself to spend $70 on a cheap air compressor so I'll have a nicer one, and I nearly busted a gut trying to pump up my bicycle tires the other day.
My neighbors moved over the weekend. They had a shitload of free stuff in their front lawn, including a digital piano and a nice (probably better than $70) air compressor. Those are now mine. The piano is old (it has a floppy drive, for pete's sake), but very functional and I've already recorded myself playing and singing "Imagine" for my extremely hot girlfriend. She is always impressed with my musical abilities, even though my voice quavers a bit and I always hit wrong notes. She especially liked the "Oh, shit!" in the middle of her recording when I forgot what I was doing.
Finally, I took my dog in for a biopsy last week and the vet who did it told me it was a mast cell tumor. Dmitri (my dog) has a history of mast cell tumors, and they're not a huge deal if they can take the whole tumor off--we just have to watch him for new lumps. We scheduled the surgery with a different vet, and when we took him in for the surgery he said he looked at the slide from the biopsy and he didn't think it was mast cell (yay!) and not to worry. Dmitri did great with the surgery, and I managed to pay for it with not too much trouble.
Unfortunately, the vet story was to be continued.
Preparatory exercises
I started a "Positive Aspects" log, which, according to Abraham (the demon who possesses Esther Hicks on occasion), will help me to align vibrationally with my higher self/god/whatever to bring about changes in my life. For example, if I hate my job, I can write down all the positive aspects of said job which will align me and help the universe to bring the good stuff that's waiting for me in vibrational escrow. It's a lot of jargon, I know. Let's see if I can explain this . . .
Whenever I see something in my life that I don't like, it lets me know that that's *not* what I'm looking for. But if I keep looking at the bits that I don't like, the universe brings to me the bits I'm looking at. So I look at the bits I do like, which aligns me, and I know I'm aligned because I feel relieved instead of grumpy. Then the universe can bring me more of the good stuff. Kapish? Is that how you spell /ka peesh'/?
I also started a vibrational bank account. This part is actually fun, and I like doing it even if I never get any of the stuff that I spend my vibrational money on. How it works: On day one, I get $1000 and I have to spend it that day. On day 2, I get $2000, and so forth for 365 days. At the end of the year I'll be buying yachts or something; I'm not sure. Maybe a small flat in New York. (Very small for under a million, I know.) Definitely a vacation condo in New Orleans. Anyhoo, I set up a spreadsheet and I'll be posting a blank one later if anybody wants to do this and isn't very good with spreadsheets. Or if you want to go for realism, dig out an old unused checkbook register. I know I have a handful of them here myself.
Next: how my weeks are turning out.
Whenever I see something in my life that I don't like, it lets me know that that's *not* what I'm looking for. But if I keep looking at the bits that I don't like, the universe brings to me the bits I'm looking at. So I look at the bits I do like, which aligns me, and I know I'm aligned because I feel relieved instead of grumpy. Then the universe can bring me more of the good stuff. Kapish? Is that how you spell /ka peesh'/?
I also started a vibrational bank account. This part is actually fun, and I like doing it even if I never get any of the stuff that I spend my vibrational money on. How it works: On day one, I get $1000 and I have to spend it that day. On day 2, I get $2000, and so forth for 365 days. At the end of the year I'll be buying yachts or something; I'm not sure. Maybe a small flat in New York. (Very small for under a million, I know.) Definitely a vacation condo in New Orleans. Anyhoo, I set up a spreadsheet and I'll be posting a blank one later if anybody wants to do this and isn't very good with spreadsheets. Or if you want to go for realism, dig out an old unused checkbook register. I know I have a handful of them here myself.
Next: how my weeks are turning out.
Really, it's an experiment.
I have a pretty vivid imagination. This makes for easy entertainment when, say, I'm in line at the post office or trying to go to sleep at night. It clashes at times with my logical side, though. The relevance of this: I can be a little superstitious, and when I read about stuff like the Law of Attraction, I get all excited and hop on the bandwagon for a while. Then I stop doing it because it's not measurable. Sometimes I seem to have results that point toward my ideas being true, sometimes they point toward them being false. A lot of it, I'll admit, depends on what mood I'm in.
My logical side must admit, though, that the most logical stance is to admit that no one really knows how the universe works, or life, or anything--there are only so many quantifiables we can get a hold of, so why not try experimenting with "crazy" stuff like attracting what we want with our thoughts? And a lot of life is influenced strongly by mindset. From Roger Bannister breaking the 4-minute mile impossibility to Viktor Frankl surviving Nazi concentration camps by finding meaning within himself, making up your mind that something is possible and doable is the first step to actually doing it. Whether the universe lines it up for you and delivers it on a silver platter is up for debate, but I figure the "This can happen!" mindset won't hurt life in general. If I win the lottery, great! If not, at least I'll be in a better mood.
So--here I shall document my progress in my Law of Attraction Experiment. Stay tuned!
My logical side must admit, though, that the most logical stance is to admit that no one really knows how the universe works, or life, or anything--there are only so many quantifiables we can get a hold of, so why not try experimenting with "crazy" stuff like attracting what we want with our thoughts? And a lot of life is influenced strongly by mindset. From Roger Bannister breaking the 4-minute mile impossibility to Viktor Frankl surviving Nazi concentration camps by finding meaning within himself, making up your mind that something is possible and doable is the first step to actually doing it. Whether the universe lines it up for you and delivers it on a silver platter is up for debate, but I figure the "This can happen!" mindset won't hurt life in general. If I win the lottery, great! If not, at least I'll be in a better mood.
So--here I shall document my progress in my Law of Attraction Experiment. Stay tuned!
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