Who Is Thinking of Who?

Have you ever wondered, who’s thinking of who when you’re thinking of someone that you’ve known who is now dead?   A few nights ago, while doing my nightly routine of appreciation, I found myself thinking about Schatz (our deceased dog) – which made me question, “am I thinking about him or is he here, and I’ve just become aware of him?  Simultaneously, I felt filled with this calm, soothing energy and I knew that he really was with me.  

It seems like we’re separated by death – I can’t see you, touch you, feel you, lick you – you’re gone.  I’m here, you’re not.  But haven’t you had those experiences where you felt a person, or a pet, who was once observable by you as being alive, feel as though they were right there with you; united, no separation, completely involved and existing as energy and focused with you?

I like the idea that there is no death…we just change form.  I like the idea that those we’ve known and those we’ve loved never “go away”; I like the idea that a slight shift in my perspective of what it is I need to see, opens me up to a whole new way of communicating and experiencing someone I’ve labeled as “dead”.   

Happiness Is Like...

Happiness is like peeing your pants.  Everyone can see it, but only you can feel its warmth.  The point is, only you can feel what you’re feeling; no one else can.  And only you create the feeling for yourself; no else does it for you.

Others can observe your manifestations, but only you know how it feels to you. 

Paying attention to how you feel is at the heart of any creation.  How you feel, or how you want to feel is why you want anything…and why you don’t want the things you don’t want.  You want whatever it is you want because at the core of it, you’ve attached or associated with it, an emotion – a feeling it’s going to “give” you.  So when you think about the things you want, think about how you think you would feel if you were living it, having it, driving it, kissing it.  Go ahead, explore how you would feel.  And then explore some more.  Describe it in emotional terms.  It feels free and fun.  It feels easy.  I feel successful.  Successful feels prosperous.  Success feels like choices.  Success feels like possibilities.  Success feels open wide and full of possibilities. 

Find the emotions, describe and explore them – because at the heart of everything you want is an emotion.

And for the same reasons that you want what you want, you don’t want things because you also associate that you’re going to feel a certain way, or you would feel a certain way if that unwanted thing happened.  You fear the emotion more than you fear the circumstance. 

When you come to acknowledge that within everything you want and everything you don’t want is either a feeling that you want, or emotions that you want to avoid, that gives you the opportunity to explore the good feelings and revel in them more, or, address those uncomfortable emotions you’re trying to avoid and soothe them into a better feeling place.  You don’t have to hold out for the manifestation of the thing you want before you can feel the good-feelings you associate with it, and neither do you have to hold yourself in a place of resisting the negative-feeling emotions either.  If you imagine something you don’t want, or something you fear might happen, take the opportunity to feel your way to a better feeling place.

You can find a way to feel good and feel the warmth – and you don’t need to pee your pants to do it. 

For more on how you can do this, watch for my upcoming website where there’ll be lots of schtuff to help you out.

Rock Your Life - YOUR Way

My daughter wears pyjamas.  She wears them to bed, she wears them to parties, she wears them to the restaurant, she wears them to play, and she wears them to lounge.  Got an occasion?  She’ll be there in pyjamas.  If you’ve seen pictures of her, you’ll know what I’m talking about.  Hardly a day would exist without Franki wearing pyjamas.  While I might choose more variety for her, I’m not the one wearing the pj’s; she is. 

She knows what she wants and won’t be persuaded, manipulated or cajoled into wearing anything other than what she chooses – which is…you got it!....pyjamas.  And while the choice to wear pj’s everyday may not seem so mind-blowing or earth-shattering at this point, I believe that allowing and encouraging her to make the choices about what parties to attend and what her preferred attire is, will keep her creating her life, her way.

So whether it’s a billion dollars or an extra $100; a secluded cabin in the woods or a condo in Chicago; a thriving, world-renowned business, or a decent job; short hair, long hair, fame and recognition or anonymity; a beautiful wardrobe, or a closet-full of pyjamas….

Rock your life – YOUR way.

A Nightly Visitor

Just when I thought I was about to sleep all night without interruption from the 3’5” person who runs our household, our bedroom door flyes open at 5:00 am.  For the fifth night in a row, in comes Franki.  She’s already had a good nine hours of sleep, so in her words, “it’s morning time, mommy!  Time to get up”!  Well, it may be morning time, but I’m not ready to get up and neither am I as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as she is in this moment.  I help her up into our bed and she slips in beside me in spite of her previous announcement that it’s time to get up.  She does her best to be still…well, no, not really.  She squirms about and I feel her toe nails scraping my leg, then ever so gently down my back.  She puts her head on my pillow, then on my head…apparently the pillow isn’t quite as comfortable as my noggin.   She hums, “the wheels on the bus go ‘round and ‘round”.  She rubs her suce (French for soother or pacifier) repeatedly on her nose, then on the back of my head, then proceeds to ask me if I want it.  Afterall, she does have three of them to share.

What I really want right now is to sleep.  What I really want right now is for Franki to settle down, be quiet, lay still and go to sleep.   What I want is for her to stay in her bed rather than crawl into mine at 5:00 am.  What I really want is for her to behave in a way that would be conducive for me to sleep.   What I want is for her to conduct herself in a way that pleases me, so that I can feel good.  I want to express my displeasure in such a way that she’ll understand that I’m not happy with her behavior and she’ll do exactly what I want her to do which is to settle down, be quiet and let me sleep. 

Instead, I realize that it’s my job to align and to feel differently first; before I speak.  What I know is that if I speak to her from that place of feeling irritated and frustrated and holding her responsible for how I feel right now, I’m offering conditional love – needing her to be different and needing what-is to change so that I can feel better.  I’m also aware that as I offer that conditional love, I begin the process of training her to please me and others as opposed to following her own guidance.  The more I do that, she begins to interpret that she’s inappropriate or wrong and therefore needs to adjust to gratify me. 

I take some deep breaths; I align with my dominant intention for her...which is to allow her to be whoever she is; I decide I want to feel better, regardless of what she’s doing and regardless of how little sleep I get.  I focus on her body squirming next to mine; the warmth, the vitality, the well-being.  I feel appreciation that she’s so vibrant and happy.  I feel appreciation that she’s with me; that she likes being next to me; that she offered me her most prized object…her suce.  I feel appreciation for being mom to this most amazing little girl.  I make a decision that I’m just happy that to have her here; sleep or no sleep.  I feel appreciation for myself; for taking the time to feel better rather than uttering words in a moment of displeasure.  I find myself really glad that Franki has decided to join us, squirming or not. 

Because I wanted to feel better and I knew that it was solely my responsibility to do that, I focused myself right into feeling joy for this moment in time; a condition that just a few short minutes ago, I felt irritation about.  Within minutes of me reaching for and finding a better-feeling place, Franki settled down and fell asleep.  It didn’t matter to me…I was just happy to have her beside me. 

The Best Thing That's Ever Happened To Me

I’m laying in bed next to Franki, looking up at the stars and the moon reflecting on her ceiling from the night light turtle on her dresser.  I turn my head to look at her and think, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”. 

 And while I bask in that thought and that feeling, Jack comes into my awareness and I think, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”.  My thoughts flow easily and freely and in flows my ex-husband and my divorce from him, then comes the idea of mom leaving when I was three and my dad being the way he was as I grew up and my step-mom and step-dad and the bankruptcy and the events of my life; all flowing freely into my mind’s eye appearing as snapshots of monumental life moments.

 I feel more deeply than I’ve ever felt before, the utter perfection of all of my life just exactly as it has unfolded; each moment leading up to the next, all of it unfolding to my benefit in such excellence to lead me to who I am.  I hold the belief that everything always works out to my benefit and that without the knowledge from a personal life experience, I wouldn’t know so clearly what I prefer.  There’s rightness in every moment; there’s flawlessness in every experience.

From each one of those experiences that could have been interpreted as “bad”,  I came to understand things about myself with more depth than I would have ever discovered.  The people, the timing of things, the events and the way they played out to match my point of attraction…none of it could have been, or could be, more perfect.   There truly is perfection in every moment.  Nothing is ever going wrong; everything is always going right.  I trust and know that whatever I create next is the best thing that’s ever happened to me because everything is the best thing that’s ever happened, or happening, to me….

Bounce Away....

Franki and I were in the party store, and as she eagerly picked a ball up to bounce it, I said out loud,(not just in my head),“Franki, don’t bounce the ball in the store, ok”?  With precision timing, a friend that I haven’t seen in a while appeared and said, “what fun would that be?  We are in a party store”!

I like having fun and I like to play and I like being silly, and in that moment, I was focused on something other than having fun.   The simplicity of her statement helped me recognize that I was operating on “auto-pilot” under the guise of some sort of a rule for appropriate behavior in a party store.  Here is this child, zealous about life, seeing every place as an opportunity for play, filled with delight at the sight of these balls, and I, the “reasonable and rule-bound adult” in her life, asking her not to bounce a ball in a party store?!?  I recognized the irony of what I was saying and I immediately grabbed a bouncy ball and bounced it myself.  There are rules to play by and there are socially acceptable behaviors to which we comply and live by, but in every case I want to encourage Franki’s play and love of life and mostly, her freedom within any self-imposed boundary that I or anyone else has established.  Every day I find myself asking this question, “how can I be more flexible” and every day, I give myself opportunities to be just that.  I know my child and I know that she’s not destructive or disrespectful of other people’s property and I know that in that moment, she demonstrated and provided me with an opportunity to be more flexible.  And why would I bounce a ball in a store, a party store of all things???  Because it’s fun.  Go give it try….

What a difference a poopie makes

You’ve heard the saying, “what a difference a day makes”….???  Well, I’m making up a new saying, “what a difference a poopie makes”.  And, what does this have to do with you?  I’ll get to that….

Franki, “before poop” and “after poop” is a totally different person.   Before poop and constipated, she’s cranky, irritable, and certainly not the happy little girl we’re used to interacting with.  After poop, she’s full of energy, laughing, playful and cooperative and eager about life.   Anything that you focus on for a length of time, or in a way that consistently doesn’t feel good to you; that you continually regurgitate by thinking about or talking about in a way that holds you to a place of not feeling any improvement about it, that’s you making yourself constipated.  Energy is always in motion. Food in, food out.  Air in, air out.  Emotions flow naturally unless you stop them.  Your feelings always improve unless you keep revisting the same thoughts that feel bad.  So if feeling constipated doesn’t feel good and you find a way to get relief from that, why would you keep thinking and talking about those things that don’t feel good without trying to find relief?  The way to feeling relief about it is by letting it go.  And by letting it go I don’t mean just use words to cover up how you really feel; I mean, let it go by reaching for a different perspective that feels better; find a way of interpreting your experience in a way that feels better; find a way to substitute the thing that bothers you with thoughts about those things that don’t.  So what kind of poopie are you constipated with?

The “my employees are tools” poopie?

The “good employees are hard to find” poopie?

The “my boss is an asshole” poopie?

The “it’s all your fault I feel like this” poopie?

The “I never get what I want” poopie?

The “people are stupid” poopie?

The “life is hard” poopie?

The “I never have enough money” poopie?

The “that bastard cheated on me” poopie?

The “life isn’t fair” poopie?

The “I hate my body” poopie?

The “I’m not good enough” poopie?

The “I’m not satisfied with where I am” poopie?

The “let me tell you what’s going wrong in my life” poopie?

The “this is not happening fast enough” poopie?

The “relationships are hard” poopie?

The “look at the state of our economy” poopie?

The “this government needs to change” poopie?

The “I need you to be different” poopie?

The “what can I complain about” poopie?

Sooooo many poopies, so little time ;)  Clearly, there are all kinds of poopies that keep you from allowing things to flow.   So the next time you find yourself complaining, or regurgitating something that bothers you or repeatedly thinking about that person who irritates you, equate that to feeling constipated…do you want to feel better or not?