Create The Life!

The Journey of a Thousand Miles

2010-04-16T15:44:00.000-04:00

It's been a very long time since I have had anything worthwhile to say. However, in thinking what to share next on this blog, I reviewed my previous stories and came to a realization. You don't know me. It's very possible that my previous posts have touched someone, and of course I am elated if they have. But the meat of the story behind these stories is how I got here. How did I arrive at these understandings and strength... and why not sooner? The understanding is in the journey, not the destination.

So I've decided to begin sharing the life I shed. I wish to reveal what I have experienced. For so long I held on to all my experiences very privately and, truthfully, with much shame. If you've heard of Post Secret, you know this is a blog where you can send your most private of secrets anonymously to be posted for all to see. That blog is proof to me that we are never alone in our pain.

Please join me here for my next post in a few days. I'll begin at the beginning.

2009-11-11T09:00:00.002-05:00

I am a unique individual,

just like everybody else.

Your Immense Power

2009-10-14T12:49:00.007-04:00

Look around you.

Where do you live? What do you drive? What do you eat... wear... do? What is your style? Where do you shop? Where do you dine? With who?

Every minute of every day, you make a choice. Every choice, every day, reveals a picture of you and creates who you are.

The other day I attempted to explain this large concept to my 10-year-old, who frankly was overwhelmed. I admit it, so was I.

In one of my rare moments of insight (and panic, but that's another story), I looked at the desk where I sat working. The blue pencil cup, filled with all my favorite pens and pencils. The stylish cordless phone. The large monitor in front of me and the beautiful office armoire which houses all these items, to the chair in which I sat. I had made a conscious choice to procure these things. I had taken the time to drive to a store, peruse a catalog, to select this item over that item, and then make the purchase with the credit card I chose and had applied for. And in some circumstances, I opted to haul huge items home and assemble them myself!

Every single little and big thing surrounding me, above me and even under my feet, I chose. I acted on some minor decision which considered acquiring these things which became the big decision of purchasing these things and even resulted in the enormous decision to purchase a house for all my things!

But don't get me wrong. This post is not about "things".

It is, however, about the immense power in tiny decisions. Those little decisions you make every single second of every single day accumulate to large effect. Think about that. Calculate the amount of time and energy you have spent over all the years in your life on making all kinds of decisions.. Then it would go to show that the tiniest decisions you make today, even the one you made to read this article and perhaps more of these types of articles, is going to have an impact on your future and how it looks and feels. To make those decisions more consciously and re-focus your power away from material things and onto your growth can lead to immense personal wealth (financial, emotional and spiritual).

So take that power and wield it wisely. It's no little thing.

"The world itself is the will to power - and nothing else! And you yourself are the will to power - and nothing else!"

- Friedrich Nietzsche

(And re-read this post the next time you're feeling powerless to Create The Life you want.)

You Are Nothing More Than A Reaction

2009-10-11T12:14:00.004-04:00

Newton's 3rd law states:

"Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

I've been having conversations with my mom via phone lately, which in and of itself is an enormous accomplishment for me because of our historically volatile relationship. Most recently I had stopped communications with her in reaction to an egregious action on her part.

After a 9 month hiatus, a new relationship is being born. I am not who I was 9 months ago, and so the conversations just couldn't possibly go in the direction they used to. But during one 6-hour phone call (yes, you read that right), I learned more about my mother than I ever knew and quickly saw a similarity between her and me, which I'm confident extends to the entire world population.

We, as the humans we are today are nothing more than reactions to our past experiences and those people who caused them.

Who doesn't talk about upcoming family gatherings with hints of trepidation? Who hasn't muttered that they become like a child when around their family of origin again? Who hasn't promised or made good on a promise that they will never be like their parent in some respects, or all!?

I am highly responsible with money today because of what I witnessed around me as a child. I devote quality time to my young children, very much on purpose, because of what I experienced as a child. I dress the way I dress because of how I was dressed as a child. I hate discussing weight or being asked about it because of memories concerning that topic as a child and the associated feelings of shame, inferiority and exclusion and some of my resulting actions. I am who I am right now solely because of circumstances, experiences and people which caused me to react the way I did and become who I was.

Was any of it under my control? Not directly. Not in any way a young mind really understands. I thought it was all under my control, the choices I made, the boyfriends I dated, the college I attended. But it was all reaction.

Talking with my retired, accomplished mother and find out that our volatile relationship was very likely a factor of her reactions to what she experienced as a child and seeing how her resulting choices were all shaped by those reactions, softened me immensely.

In the same way I absolved myself of culpability for who I was (in my negative attributes), I had to absolve her of her negative attributes. Just as I was under no control of those experiences and people around me, neither was she. And neither was her mom. Or her mom's mom.......

And even the highly positive mental change I initiated 9 months ago was a reaction to my previous life choices! And while, again, I feel naively that my life is thoroughly under my control, I know that future decisions will be direct reactions to that previous life.

Only, this time, I am aware.

The Evolution of Self Development

2009-10-09T08:49:00.010-04:00

What do you do?

What can you do?

What do you love to do?

Photo courtesy Encyclopedia Britannica Kids

Integrity - It's The Little Things

2009-10-07T09:41:00.003-04:00

What does integrity mean to you? What does it have to do with leading a happy life? You may think it describes concepts like being honest, trustworthy and reliable. You may say a person of integrity lives a life of goodness, helping others while staying true to their core values. And you're 100% right. But that's only half the story.

With integrity, it's also the little things that make a big impact.

Have you ever been shopping at a store for, say, tissues? The box design of one attracts you. You can't quite explain why. The box of another brand is plain, and also much cheaper. So you buy the cheaper tissues and live with the ugly box displayed in your home. Every time you pass the ugly box, you subconsciously react to it. But, in a split millisecond you rationalize that you paid much less, and that's more important. Isn't it?

When you live a life of real integrity, you surround yourself with only the things and people that truly delight and inspire you. The ugly tissue boxes of the world drain your energy and your creativity, leaving less with which to create the life you desire. And by choosing to buy the ugly tissue box, you perpetuate the idea that money has more value to you than your own mental comfort or creative abilities - your integrity.

Quirks and pet peeves are the little "nudges" that remind you who you are. When they pop up, they are attempting to steer you towards your true self. Name a pet peeve of yours. It can be the simplest thing. And ask yourself why you've chosen to ignore it on some occasions.

One example for me involves inspirational notecards. I used to hand write them on 3" x 5" index cards to view each day, little comments, quotes and ideas to motivate me. But rather than inspire me, they irritated me. The only way the cards began to work for me was when I printed them out in beautiful italicized, bold font with a green scrollwork banded edge. What I realized, and yet had always known, is that I gravitate towards beautiful things. They fill me with joy.

These are things I can't explain. But when I am true to what I like and true to who I am, things begin to work for me. Not only am I surrounded by beauty everywhere I look, I find I'm able to lead a more fulfilled life, finding that creativity comes more naturally when it's not being depleted by little irritations, be it food, restaurants, books, clothes, plants, home decor or even friends. Only select what makes you smile. Everything else detracts from your integrity, and ultimately your happiness.

For one designer I read about recently, integrity came down to the pencils she had in her home... she only allowed a very specific type to cross the barrier of her front door. I connected with that. Being a writer, only a few pencils and pens satisfy me when I write, and using the "wrong" ones will thwart my choice of words and eat away at my inspiration, because my mind focuses on the negativity brought out by the pen or pencil that is not in line with the things I love.

Think about it in your own life. Realize that living a life of complete integrity comes down even to the little things which bring you joy. Being true to yourself, accepting and enjoying those eccentricities and pet peeves that define who you are, will bring about a fuller, freer and more creative life, when all your energy is devoted to that life.

2009-09-13T13:39:00.001-04:00

Do not despair when you hit rock bottom.

From that place, there is only one way to go.

Even Nature Chases Riches!

2009-07-02T11:55:00.004-04:00

Having finished reading the very popular and highly acclaimed book, Think & Grow Rich, I felt inspired to move forward with one of my best ideas for financial success. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that the deliberate chasing of success or riches, which the author advocates, was somehow against my moral or spiritual aspirations. My goal for so long has been to find inner peace and understanding. Going after big money seems a contradiction of my beliefs. I set the book aside and pondered this resistance, looking out my window.

I can always count on Nature to provide deep insight in the smallest of events. As I looked out my window, a mother Robin nearly crash landed in a nearby spruce tree. Grabbing my binoculars to see why she'd entered the tree, I found her feeding four viciously hungry fledgling Robins. And with the same swiftness that she'd entered the nest, she left again to procure more food. And near my house, it's abundant. We've experienced a wet spring and the geographic dip in my backyard causes earthworms to sprout to the surface at even the slightest rainfall. While Mom Robin may have had to fly back and forth often, there was no lack of food in the vicinity... a fact which I slowly realized was precisely why she must have placed her nest where she did. She was either extremely lucky in having found the spot in the spruce or intuitively intelligent at having made that conscious choice.

Regardless, I learned, even Nature chases riches! The very worms this Mom Robin was gobbling up were abundant in this area because the rich earth in this location draws them here. So from birds to earth crawlers evidence is everywhere that Nature gravitates toward abundance and follows it with purpose, thereby ensuring not only survival but easy living.

Dirt is the currency of worms. And worms are the currency of birds. But since we no longer farm our own food, we instead purchase our food with our man-made currency, the dollar. So for us to deliberately go after this sustenance, money, is in fact a natural act! There's nothing at all immoral or un-spiritual about chasing after what keeps us and our families alive and well fed. And there's no shame in accomplishing that goal successfully. Would this corroborate "survival of the fittest"? Even "survival of the luckiest" has a positive outcome. Survival is the operative word.

Who knew that day a Robin would become my wisest teacher? It serves me no good to maintain a philosophy to which even Nature does not subscribe. Following Mom Robin's example, I may have to work hard, flying back and forth, to provide for myself and my family, but Nature's riches are there for the taking.

Pest Control for the Soul

2009-06-10T08:30:00.004-04:00

Accumulate garbage in and around your home, and you are certain to soon have ants, rats and other infectious pests.

Remove the garbage . . . and all pests go elsewhere to find what they require.

It's the same with people and circumstances in your life. What are you attracting?

The Purpose of Weeds

2009-06-04T08:29:00.005-04:00

Two years ago in August, I moved into a new house. I mean a "new" house, the kind with only one builder's landscape bed in the front and grass around the other three sides of the house. As an avid gardener, I couldn't wait until the spring to begin creating my paradise.

All that grass around the perimeter of my house meant, to me, that I had a perfect blank canvas to use to my heart's delight. But the long wait through winter was pure torture. I'd get anxious on an unusually warm day believing spring was just around the corner, only to be thrust back into the bitter winds and snow of a Nor' Easter.

When it got just warm enough, in the 40's, I bundled up and went out every day to garden centers collecting whatever I could as they began to bring plants back. I rejoiced with every rain storm as it meant I could work the incredibly hard soil of southeastern Pennsylvania. But 3 months later, I hit a wall. I had created 2 enormous garden beds that extended halfway around my house, and I'd begun work on the other enormous half when spring allergies hit me hard enough to trigger a dangerous asthma attack and near pneumonia, my lungs felt so filled with fluid. I'd gotten several trees into that bed along with a good number of bushes. And I'd begun building a gorgeous dry river bed that appeared to pour from boulders I'd uncovered in the ground and had my children unearth and expose more. But every time I stepped outside, I risked a visit to the hospital.

The summer went by and fall came. I thought I'd get out to that bed and finish, but fall was packed with activities for my growing kids and turned out to be much shorter than I anticipated, and before I knew it, it was gone. The unfinished garden bed sat, an ugly eyesore for me and all the neighbors to look at throughout the winter.

Spring came again, and I made all my plans to get out and finish that embarrassing bed first. But, having been exposed to the allergens the year before, I found myself developing asthma and bronchitis much earlier this year, and was again unable to go out and work on that bed. Even a quick garden stroll left me gasping for air, searching for my inhaler, sneezing and miserable.

2 months later, the abandoned garden bed calls me every morning as I sip my coffee looking out my window. And every week, the weeds grow thicker and wider, overtaking the few pretty plants I'd managed to insert. It's truly a mess and it echoes my life of late. My marriage is ending. I am a mess. I am the garden.

I'd wanted to have the most beautiful garden in the neighborhood. I'd wanted to have order and beauty... I wanted to manufacture that. But the bottom dropped out, and the garden now is just a mirror. With each passing morning, I hate that garden bed - the weeds equal my thoughts, the disarray reflects my life, the chaos my feelings.

One afternoon I went to that bed to attack it. I went to destroy it and force it to reflect back to me the order and beauty I once had and needed. But as I began to cut the 3 foot tall grass and weeds, out jumped a baby bunny, trembling, terrified, having nowhere to run. I moved away, but movement scared this bunny so much more that it ran off into the woods, disappearing, leaving me to guess at its fate. Out jumped another bunny, to follow the first, and I nearly cried out to stop it. I didn't mean to force them from their nest so early. I looked closely at the mess of grass, and there, hiding, was the last bunny, stowed away under a tiny, dead bush I'd planted the year before, now overtaken with grass. It was a perfect home.

Today, I sipped my coffee, again peering out my window at the garden bed that has consumed by thoughts, thinking this week will be the week I clean it up. The bunnies have returned to my other gardens, they've grown, and they survived. They no longer need the grass to hide in - they've found new homes. And they're a joy to watch, so tiny and helpless and yet thriving.

The thistle has grabbed hold now. It's everywhere, ugly, and full of seeds to perpetuate its ugliness. And on top of the thistle this morning I spotted something yellow - a butterfly? I got my binoculars that sit by that window and looked closer. The brightest and smallest yellow bird was gently picking seeds off that thistle. An American Goldfinch was in my garden, and then another joined him. Breeding males, which meant they were collecting food for themselves and their young. So bright and wonderful were these little birds, I forgot my ugly garden. I could only stare at the beauty it was attracting! Out of that hideous, abandoned, colorless garden came baby bunnies and Goldfinches. Without that hideous, abandoned garden I wouldn't experience the wonder of nature and the amazing animals that need that exact environment to live.

I caught myself smiling. And as my mind turned back inward, I saw with understanding that my life too may be ugly and abandoned right now, but from it will spring life and beauty and the perfect environment for all that Nature intended.

An Idea a Day Keeps Self Doubt Away

2009-05-28T16:20:00.000-04:00

It is said that Faith without Works is dead. Like the many self-development books we read, once the final page is turned, we cease to develop our selves. We thought we could do it all the way through the book, but then it all comes to a screeching halt. Reading without Practicing is much the same concept.

When you were in school, you studied new lessons, and then you were directed to practice what you learned - write about it, experiment with it, and take a test on it. Practice made perfect, if you recall. You still need that program now that you're older.

But what if you don't have Faith to begin with - faith in yourself? So many people have great ideas, but they lack the faith to put those ideas into works. It's a double-whammy right to the heart of their self esteem.

And yet, you keep having new ideas. You probably don't intend to, but without fail, you invent new products, or improve others. You come up with catchy phrases sure that someone would want to use them. You sing new songs. You get angry when a company doesn't see the value of doing things "your" way. Whatever it is, you keep on creating ideas!

And you can also create faith. Well, not the spiritual faith that comes when you're truly ready, but the kind that begins with yourself. Did you know that not believing in yourself was something you learned? And you can just as readily learn to believe again. All you have to do is practice. You need to exercise those flabby mental muscles that right now can't even lift your spirits, let alone elevate an idea to become your success.

Try this paradox of a "simple challenge". It's so easy you might scoff, but the challenge is in doing this activity regularly and consistently. Once you start, challenge yourself to keep doing it.

Starting from the day you read this, dedicate a notebook, journal, or Word document as a place to write down every idea you have that you think of twice. You know those ideas that you get excited about once? Then the next time you think it through a little more, you get even more excited? Typically, you may have held on to that feeling for a week or two before negative talk began rearing its ugly head telling you it's probably been done already, or it's too much work, or you're not knowledgeable enough to get it off the ground. Or maybe you've had an idea you've held onto for years. I know I do. But it's in my idea journal now. And that's okay, jot it down - no one said they can only be new ideas.

The purpose is two-fold. One, it's just cool to see how incredibly talented you are in generating ideas! And two, writing the idea down, committing it to paper (of one form or another) is a great way to begin moving towards change and believing in yourself. One idea at a time will give you a running log of how creative you actually are - a great tool to look back on every several months. It slowly builds confidence. And two, looking at your list subconsciously gets your mind wondering how to achieve that idea. In time you'll meet people who can help. You'll magically navigate to an article or website that can help you. You'll find yourself opening up to learning new things, and you'll learn something small that becomes a building block to another lesson and another until one day you find you have both the knowledge and the confidence to turn one idea into reality.

And you know what happens from there, don't you? One idea turns into two, and two turns into three and so on and so on. So, go - right now - dedicate that place to your ideas, and start writing. What have you got to lose? Oh, nothing much . . . just your lack of faith.

The Real Value of a Buck

2009-05-17T12:16:00.000-04:00

Several days back, I needed information to write an article for a blog, and I came upon a website with fantastic content. Obviously, this guy (Simon) was in love with what he did. It showed in the way he covered every detail, added rich sources, and generally made my life heaven for a day.

Instead of having to write a long, complicated article, I'd found a site that already had what I wanted to say, in the same way I would write it! So I searched around for that glorious text which says I could copy the article provided I link back to the site. I didn't find it, but I did come across a DONATE button. I continued searching for a permission clause.

Since I'd previously planned to write the article on my own anyway, I decided on using his writing as research and spend the next hour plus creating my own article. But just as I was about to leave the site with his content copied for me read, I thought back to the donate button. How could I leave this site without saying "Thank You" to a stranger who'd offered his knowledge passionately and freely? I found that I coudn't. So I proceeded to donate as much as I could afford for the 4 paragraphs I was taking, which was only $1.50, or 1 Euro (the site is a foreign one) - times are tough for everyone, but especially tough for me right now. Still I couldn't just walk away.

A few days later, I received a "Thank You" in return from Simon. And I had several amazing thoughts. The first was that I had corresponded and touched a person I never knew before, in another country, and he'd in turn touched me by fulfilling my need for insightful information and saving me valuable time.

I then thought how easy it would have been for me to leave his site and never donate money for his efforts, and how many people probably do just that. And I'm not chastising those people - we all have our reasons. But the act of donating even one dollar, a token thank you, made me feel fantastic! And I'm sure it didn't hurt Simon either. So, that day, two people felt great! And by witnessing that someone did, in fact, donate, Simon is probably more likely in the future to donate to a site he comes across. And so on, and so on, and so on. (If you're my age, you know what commercial that refers to.)

So that ONE seemingly insignificant dollar I donated has the potential to make a tremendous impact in people's days and Paypal accounts around the world and for years to come! It's an exhilirating idea and one that makes me realize now that I can never discount the value of even the smallest gesture of gratitude and human kindness.

The Practice of Selective Empathy

2009-05-12T11:00:00.000-04:00

One Monday morning, after the rush of getting my kids off to school, I was busy mentally organizing my day, putting on my industrious, ego-driven persona, really. My husband was preparing to leave on a business trip. As I ran about the house picking things up in preparation to work (I have an innate need for order before I can concentrate), I noticed outside one of my windows that my husband's driver had arrived to take him to the airport.

I also noticed instantly that he was parked on some of my favorite plants. I began fuming. Still in pajamas, however, I couldn't go out and yell at the driver personally, so I did the next best thing. I yelled at my husband, telling him, "Great driver you've got there!" And I got what I must have subconsciously wanted. My husband offered to tell him off for me. He asked me if I'd like to do it, or if he should take care of it. At that moment, I caught a glimmer of what was happening, and I said back, "Well, it's too late now. They're already dead." It's not quite what I meant to spout. I was feebly trying to remind myself that the event was now in the past, whether or not it felt like an immediate situation, the fact was, it was over and done. I could no more go back in the past and prevent those car tires from rolling onto my plants than I could go back and plant them in a safer spot in my garden. It was done.

But my emotions still gripped me, and I ran to the window to watch my husband get in the car, so that, without detection, I could fire off evil stares at the driver. When I got to the window, I saw the driver shutting my husband's door for him. An elegant, well-dressed, elderly man with pristine white hair, perfectly groomed and a peaceful smile on his face. Clearly he was past retirement age, yet here he was working as a driver. And when he walked to his side of the car to leave, I noticed he limped - a fake leg.

I began crying at my own harshness in determining who should receive my wrath over dying plants, how insensitively I doled out my anger. But with the next thought I cried even harder.

What if the driver of the day had been the usual younger, athletic and smug looking guy who has come to get my husband on numerous occasions? Would I have felt justified if I'd returned to the window and saw him instead? Would the lack of any visible, physical difficulties in his life have somehow determined that he was a worthier target for my hate? Who am I to say what this driver experiences in his life - what problems, hardships, worries, illness, loss - just because I cannot see with my eyes what he lives with?

I saw with clarity that I was capable of feeling some measure of empathy, but that by choosing who was a worthier recipient of it, it wasn't true empathy at all. Empathy can't have a selective quality to it. It cannot be decided to be given or withheld. That would be to split humanity into those who deserve it and those who don't. Empathy is a state of being that includes all and is universal. So, where I thought I had tapped into my empathy with the older driver, I learned, in fact, that I have a long way to go toward understanding what it truly means and where it originates from.

But there was a happy ending to my story. Without this event, I would never have received the lesson which was placed before me. In an instant, I was given insight into my idea of empathy and a chance to learn from my misunderstood belief. And as they say, admitting it is half the battle.

Did You Remember To Take Out The Trash?

2009-05-09T09:48:00.001-04:00

It's been a long day, and you've handled numerous annoying people and situations. Your mind swims in its thoughts and judgments over them. And by nightfall, you can feel the tension mounting from the overgrowth of those thoughts.

You think, "A good night's sleep will help me deal with all this crap in the morning." But, as you lay your head down to your soft pillow, your mind takes over. The thoughts of the day, instead of going to bed themselves, are growing like mushrooms after spring rains, the Fungus Amungus in your head. And when you go to sleep with negative thoughts you unintentionally manifest them in your dreams and carry them over to the next morning. So while you may consciously wake up believing "Today's a new day!", in fact, you often times end up creating a day much like the one before.

Your chores began the previous night, but you forgot to complete them. To effectively move forward and truly make each new morning a new day, you must take out the trash the night before.

My own first attempts were feeble and a form of denial, but creative and colorful. I brought up words completely unassociated with my negative thoughts. I'd think "pink", and then I'd see the color fill my mind. I'd think "purple" and again watch the color come to mind. I realized quickly, after several nights of this, the power of my mind to create the color I said. And then I realized the power my mind has to create and change my thoughts.

I soon learned that, without bringing my negative thoughts to my conscious, and saying their name, they had a tendency to hide in their dark corners hoping I wouldn't see them. But there they remained, sneaking out once I went to sleep only to wreak havoc in my dreams, hiding again by daybreak, surreptitiously reaching from those corners to snatch more of my negative thoughts as food to grow stronger.

This trash heap of accumulated negativity - people, places, areas where you're stuck, circumstances, complaints and especially beliefs - must be rummaged through, sorted, and labeled "judgment", "misbelief", "ego driven" and so on, and then purposefully discarded into a mental receptacle which you empty each night.

In practice, spend 10 to 15 minutes before bed, unwinding, and attempt to think about ... nothing. To "think about nothing" is a paradox, an oxymoron. And yet it's also a necessity. As you begin this exercise each night, you'll find it easier and easier to do. It will become a sleep inducing calm.

Now, each night, I take only 5 minutes (it's becoming an easy ritual) to sort through the distresses of my day, what I found to be upset about, and whom I chose to complain about. After I honestly see these thoughts for what they are, I crumble them up like pieces of paper, and toss them into the trash. I then take this trash and dump it into the great abyss I've labeled "Of No Use To Me", and I drift quietly and contentedly into my slumber. On a few nights I've literally giggled from the peace and lightness I've felt.

What I Learned In Summer Camp

2009-05-06T09:34:00.000-04:00

When I was a young, smart aleck kid, I was shipped off one summer against my will to an outdoor cesspool of a camp in the Central Florida woods. Snakes were regular campers there too. Mosquitos attacked each morning and evening with a bloody thirst. And I once witnessed a scorpion emerge from a friend's shoe just as she was about to put it on. The trees were so dense that we rarely saw the sun. And lunches were comprised of economical peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, where the 2 ingredients had been efficiently processed together into a brown goo so as to make serving 200 campers fast and easy.

Those were the good memories.

One typical hot and muggy afternoon, I attended an art class where I was told to slap white concrete-like mush onto a 9 by 11 inch piece of plywood. I was then instructed to rummage through piles of tiles, shattered and assorted with different colors, sizes and textures. Here I was supposed to create an image formed of these tiles and pressed gently into the white mush - a mosaic. I completed the task, finding that the process of sifting carefully through the sharp tiles was rather enjoyable. I began getting lost in the hunt for the right colored piece of just the right size to place next in the series of a random pattern. I lost myself happily, working away carefully, forgetting mosquitos and the sticky humidity and the rush of other campers leaving me to get to our afternoon swim. I eventually finished and left my creation to dry, joining my friends back at the cabins to change and head to the pool.

In the days that followed, I completely forgot the mosaic.

On the final day of camp, the counselors and administrators held an art exhibit to showcase all of the campers' work throughout that week - there were woven baskets, paintings, pottery pieces and other beautifully designed kids' art displayed on rows of portable tables on grass. We'd been asked to collect our art to pack in our things for the long trip home. What I didn't realize was the exhibit was in fact a contest. And colorful ribbons had been placed on the best items. Table after table I looked at all the art, thinking of the hidden talent evident there by kids who were as seemingly un-unique as the mosquitos that surrounded us. And then I saw my mosaic, the art I resisted attempting, and then lost myself in. It proudly displayed a large blue ribbon in one corner.

My heart swelled. I hadn't given even a moment's thought that I might place, let alone win! I was in awe, staring at that piece imagining they'd placed the ribbon on the wrong one, or else another camper created that mosaic which simply resembled mine. But no, it was mine. I was elated. It was the singular most memorable part of that camp. At least until the next most memorable part.

I held my mosaic lovingly, looking at it in the manner a new mother looks at her infant. And I walked away from the art tables excited, now imagining showing it to my mom back at home. On my third step away from the tables, still staring at the blue ribbon, my foot hit the edge of the concrete sidewalk, and I tripped. In slow motion, I watched my beautiful mosaic, the blue and yellow tiles I'd so deliberately selected and carefully placed, hit the sidewalk, shattering and scattering like fireworks all around me.

I stood dumbfounded. How could I have been so careless? How could this have happened? What would I have to show my mom and to keep for a memory of one of my greatest achievements? Why did this happen? There was nothing left to do, but sort through the tiles, this time to pick up and dust off the blue ribbon to pack away in my things for the long ride home.

Now, nearly 30 years later I know why it happened. I was shown what I was capable of accomplishing, when I enjoy doing something so immensely that I forget myself while doing it. I needed that event to reveal to me later in life, not the sadness over the loss, but my possibility. It woke me up to the revelation that if I did that once, I have it in me to do again. If I go back to those activities which consume me, enrapture and enliven me, then blue ribbons will sit patiently in the corners of those achievements waiting for me to discover them.

Are You A Lack Luster?

2009-05-04T09:33:00.000-04:00

On a recent shoe shopping (say THAT 10 times fast!) trip with my daughter, to replace her well-worn sneakers, I stood in one line of 2 registers. In front of me was a woman with 2 girls about the same age as my daughter. And next to us, in the other line, was a man paying for shoes, with his son, also about the same age as my daughter. I waited patiently while they each paid for their large quantity of shoes.

The man began grumbling with the cashier at his line regarding a promotion the shoe store was running whereby if he purchased more than $50 in shoes, he'd get a coupon for some amount off a future purchase. The woman in front of me, overhearing him, offered advice, telling him to split his shoe purchases today (by the number of boxes I counted, he had plenty to achieve this), so that he would get the discount today. But he grumbled back that the coupon could NOT be used on the same day's purchase.

At that point, the woman in front of me took full opportunity to loudly teach her young, impressionable girls a valuable life lesson. She said, for all to hear, "See! Everyone's trying to find ways to save. We work too hard for our money."

And there it was, the transfer of the concept of scarcity to the next generation. This scenario must play out thousands upon thousands of times all around the world, different stores, different languages, different genders, but the meal is the same - the spoon-feeding of fear and lack. This woman was a Lack Luster. She lived lack, craved lack, spoke lack, and taught lack.

I savored what she told her daughters and spit it out, hating the old, familiar flavor, wishing I could have covered my own daughter's ears.

When we believe that money is scarce, we subconsciously make it true for ourselves. And when we believe that we work too hard for our money, we also make that true, so that we ensure a lifetime of hard work and little to show for it.

But when we change our views about money, our lives take a similar turn. What you think becomes how you act. There really is no lack of money, only a lack of belief that there is no lack of money.

When you begin to believe that you don't have to work hard for your money, and see that you only choose to work hard, other choices begin to appear. That is, you can choose not to work hard for your money (change your work), or you can choose to see working for your money as pleasurable. Both can be achieved by hunting down your lost lottery number (see previous post).

But to teach our future generations to repeat the patterns of old, and then to also teach them to complain about it (publicly) leaves us all bereft of hope and possible happiness. Instead, change your life, become the example. Do what you love. Teach your kids to do what they love. And the concept of lack and hard work will disappear from your life and theirs.

Are You Playing Your Lottery Number?

2009-05-03T11:18:00.002-04:00

A recent discussion with my young daughter revealed to me that our fears over the future begin incredibly early. She is only 9, and already she is fretting about what she will do for a job, what she'll "be" when she grows up. Not to brag about my own daughter, but this is a bright girl, whom I believe is very talented. Yet, there she was in front me of doubting her ability to provide for herself 13 years from now.

She can draw with such an understanding of color as to intimidate me. And this past Christmas, she opened the brand new guitar Santa gave her and began playing Jingle Bells all the way through, though she had never played a guitar before and only knew how to play Jingle Bells from piano lessons, a thoroughly different instrument and instruction! Surely, she will always be able to find, or better, to create work in art or music with her talent.

I remembered back to my own childhood and reminisced about what I loved to do and what inspired me. I had always loved to sing and would spend hours writing songs and singing them to my mother's adoring friends (bless them). And I also continuously came up with "ideas" to improve things, fix problems, or even make money.

And that is what we all share, our lost talents. It is your lottery number. Somewhere, at some time, you knew what you loved to do, and you did it with abandon and without self consciousness. We all did. It was our nature as children, before the doubts poured in, before other people's ideas of what we should do or be were told to us, and before judgments began.

Too many of us have forgotten the talents we were born with, the innate interests we had as children. That is your own personal lottery number, promised to you alone. And you misplaced it.

If you were given the lottery numbers for next week's million-dollar jackpot drawing, and were promised that if you played them, those numbers would come up, would you instead change a few of the numbers, believing you have a better combination? Would you give the numbers to someone else? Would you opt out of playing altogether, doubting in what you were told? Or would you trust implicitly in the one who told you to play those numbers, but put the information away for safekeeping? Or would you buy a ticket?

This game of chance is your life. And you were given your lottery number, exclusive to you, for you to trust and to play. The jackpot - true happiness, wealth, and doing what you love - is waiting for you to claim it. You just have to buy the ticket.

Take It From An Acorn

2009-05-02T20:44:00.000-04:00

You've surely heard before that an acorn contains inside of it everything it needs to become a large, majestic oak tree... everything.

The DNA. The nutrients. The will.

And so it is with every seed you create, your ideas. Every idea you generate, if nurtured and planted in fertile soil, has within it the ability to grow into a majestic dream come true... everything.

You are a tree of ideas, each seed dropping from your branches and making contact with the receptive earth... the universe. As with all seeds, some never take root. Some take their time. And some immediately grab onto the earth with all their will and prosper, reaching higher and higher for the sun. Success of seeds depends on proper conditions of light, air and water, but the will to grow is always inherent and present. Every idea you tend to, coddle, nurture and move forward will grow. It is the nature of the universe.

And with the universe on your side, you can't help but succeed in creating the life you've dreamed of.

What Is It About Water?

2009-05-02T18:42:00.000-04:00

Perhaps this scenario describes you or someone you know. You start the shower to get yourself ready to go somewhere. Your day is packed with things to do, and your brain is just as jammed with tasks, chores, errands, details and deadlines. You step into the shower expecting to get it over with quickly and head out. But the warm water hits your shoulders, and suddenly the cascading warmth starts to pour down to your toes, enveloping you in velvety relaxation. And to prove how relaxed you are, you start singing.

You're a shower singer, the closet variety whom none of your friends would peg as an alto bellowing out Somewhere Over The Rainbow and a few Broadway tunes. Not only that, you're good. The water somehow frees you and opens your vocal chords allowing you to reach notes you swear could land you more than a mere audition on American Idol. You imagine the stage, the applause, the fame.

For many people, water has a remarkable inspirational quality that brings out their best. For me, after I belt out a showtune or two, my mind starts wandering, thinking about my day, and pondering my future. And without fail, I'll have a spark of insight into a problem I've been facing. And more often, I find myself creating! Visualization is creating, you know. I create the craziest and most brilliant ideas, but only when I'm in the shower. One step on the bath rug after my shower, and I'm a dolt, back to gray cloud thinking and hurried anxiety. These days, I've unleashed my inner shower genius, and in the very precious and fragile minutes just after I finish, I race downstairs, still dripping and sometimes naked, just to write down my ideas on a notepad!

Have you ever felt so inspired? What do you do with your ideas? And what are you doing to create that life you dream about in the shower?