A few days ago I started blessing the bacon, blessing the people who would eat it, and blessing the day ahead.




Blessing the road.
Blessing the guard at the gate.
Blessing the Marine Corps Air Ground Control Center.
Blessing the building.
Blessing the food court.
Blessing the employees.
Blessing the customers.
Blessing . . .

I don't know if it made a difference for anyone or anything else. 

It made a difference in me.

In 1976 my very first job was cooking hamburgers at McDonald's on Lakewood Blvd. in Lakewood, California.  It was the beginning of a career in the restaurant industry that spanned almost a decade.  That was followed by almost twenty years in the legal field and over five years as an alternative medicine practitioner. 

I've come full circle. 

Six days a week, I stand at a six burner gas stove and a flat top grill cooking breakfast for a few hundred Marines.  It's familiar.

Two months ago, I left my non-stress job as a massage therapist, my beautiful apartment on Mercer Island, my friends, my life to travel over 1,200 miles to Twentynine Palms to open not one, not two, but three restaurants at the Marine Corps Air Ground Control Center's new MCX.  It was an act of service.  It was an act of total faith.
 
The day I arrived, I found myself trying to supervise the completion of construction, installation of equipment and opening three restaurants from the ground up.  My often repeated comment was, "I don't know what I'm doing."

The end of the first week found me devastatingly homesick for the lush green, mountains and water of Seattle.  The desert felt hostile, barren. 

Every day was more stressful than the day before as opening day approached.  Everything went wrong.  I began asking for higher guidance over every piece of paper and every next step of the process.  Finally, I asked every friend I knew to send me magic and somehow my despair lifted.

After one more morning of waking up totally anxious and in despair, I made a decision to be happy.  Even so I kept asking, "What am I doing in this desert?"

Then the answer came:

Remember,

The most powerful religions of the world were born of desert metaphysics

extremes of desert visions.

Moses, Jesus and Mohammed were men of the desert.

it was their home.

The sea was all right for special effect

- part it or walk on it -

But if they had serious business . . .

with God or the devil,

they went to the desert.

 

Michael Ventura

The restaurants opened on time. They're running relatively smoothly.  I've done what I came here to do.  It's time to go home. 

Barnes & Noble was my first stop today, the last day of the Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself, Level 2 Workshop with Dr. Joe Dispenza in Seattle, Washington.  It's on the reading list on Dr Joe's website.  I've begun the discipline of making myself read the preface and forwards of books; sections I usually flip past to sink my mind straight into the meat of the text.  I am grateful that I read the preface of this book for it contained this paraphrase of Rabindranath Tagore: I have listened And I have looked With open eyes. I have poured my soul Into the world Seeking the unknown Within the known And I sing out loud In amazement. I cried.

I AM, the Documentary, was not the movie I thought I was going to see when I made the critical decision to get up off the couch and drive down to the University District of Seattle to see a movie by myself.  First I had to wrestle with the idea of whether I even wanted to move off the couch.  Then I had to decide whether to ask someone to go with me.  I decided against the latter.  I tend to cry in movies.  When I'm in bad space, I tend to sob.

For days, weeks and months I've been full of self-doubt, remorse, regret and guilt.  Did I do the right thing?  What's wrong with me?  Why has this dark night turned into a dark week, a dark month?

After overcoming my disappointment at I AM, the Documentary being the wrong movie, I hoped that I was exactly where I was supposed to be seeing exactly the movie I was supposed to see. 

There were points in the movie that I wanted to stop the frame, rewind it and watch it again.  I walked out of the movie knowing that I had absolutely done the right thing by packing my clothes, my dog, my massage table and moving to Seattle.

I AM, the Documentary is not going to be a box office hit.  There's no violence, no sex, no cruel jokes - only hope.

"There is a place deep within us that wants to feel fulfilled. . . . Wherever you are; you're only a thought away from changing your life."

The Shift, a movie with Dr. Wayne Dyer, is not a movie I would have chosen to watch. I respect Dr. Dyer's work. I agree with him. I just have never been able to read his books. So why did I end up watching this movie and writing about it?  I received a Cosmic Postcard. A friend who is familiar with my struggles and who knows my story intimately suggested I watch it. When she watched it, she thought of herself, of me, of my husband.

I fell asleep the first time I tried to watch it. The next morning I joined a group of friends for a morning meeting and the topic of discussion was, "How did you shift your perception? How did you shift your attitude from selfishness to compassion?" For the next hour I listened to other people's stories about changing their lives. 

Synchronicity. 

The Shift about a movie being filmed of Dr. Wayne Dyer.  It must be based on his book, The Shift: Taking Your Life from Ambition to Meaning.   As Dr. Dyer tells his own story of making a shift, the movie also follows three other characters who are struggling in life and need a shift of their own.

The movie reminded me of why I'm here.  It reminded me of the day I stood in a marriage counselors office with tears streaming down my face, passionately declaring that I had such a huge desire to help people that I would do anything to do it, including leaving my husband.  Sometimes I forget that as I swirl around in this place of uncertainty and sadness.  I don't know if watching this movie will inspire me to action.  I hope it inspires you.

Have you ever been gripped by fear and thought all was lost?  Sometimes the Universe just has a way of bringing new experiences into your life to help you learn and grow.

One of the things that I've learned from driving across county with only enough money to get me here and survive for a couple of months is that money is the easiest thing for me to manifest.  What I have done here in a very short period of time, I can do again.  What I have done here is something that I've done before - gone from nothing to something.

It's the fear that gets me.  When I am fearful about money, it's because I'm trying to be vibrationally less than what I've already achieved.  I've walked through too many fires and arose like a Phoenix, stronger, more alive than ever to believe in the fear. 

So like the quote below from Abraham says, it is not the numbers in my checking account, my ledger sheet, or other accounting trivia that the Universe responds to - it is my vibration; the vibration that emanates from my core believe that I am loved, worthy, and that the Creator of All Things knows me personally.

I know now, at this moment, that what I have created here I can create anywhere that I will always be okay; that all is truly well.

Where have you slipped away from your true belief?  Are there times when you have risen like a Phoenix out of the ashes of devastating experience in your life?

You cannot be less than you are now. You cannot achieve a vibration that is less than the vibration that you have achieved. That's why when someone achieves an empire and then something happens where it is lost or destroyed, they still have the vibration that they've achieved, and the empire will come back again—you see it all the time—because it is the vibrational status that the Universe is responding to, not the financial status.

--- Abraham

Excerpted from the workshop in Philadelphia, PA on Wednesday, May 7th, 2003 #658

Photo by Robert Molinarius on Flickr.com

There is a difference between doing something out of love and doing some to be loved.  

When I've taken an action out of love, there are no strings attached.  It's a pure, altruistic act that feels good just in taking it.  There are no expectations of  return.  The latter is an act that I do for love and attention.  When it's not received well or received at all, I feel hurt and rejected.

Once upon a time, he told me his favorite pie was blackberry pie.  His birthday rolled around.  I invited a few close friends for dinner.  I made blackberry pie and a plate full of brownies for dessert.  He told me he didn't like cake. 

A long-time friend of his passed by the pie and smiled, "It's his favorite!" she whispered in my ear. 

"I know!"  I replied.

After dinner, dessert was self-serve.  Friends who tried the pie raved about it.  He never touched it.  Later I commented, "I thought blackberry pie was your favorite.  You didn't even try it."

"I said raspberry,"  he replied.

Something twisted in my chest.

At the next dinner, I made red raspberry pie for dessert.  Again, he didn't eat the pie.  I asked, "Didn't you say you liked raspberry pie?"

"Black raspberry," was the answer.

That thing in my chest took a deeper turn.

For the next holiday dinner, another family member made cherry pie.  He ate a piece and raved how it was the perfect combination of sweet and sour.  He even saved a piece for later. 

That thing in my chest burrowed out of sight.

I wish I could tell you that I rose above myself.  I wish I could tell you that I stopped baking pies for his approval, out of love for him and baked pies for the sheer love of baking but I didn't.  I just stopped baking pies.

That was years ago.  Now looking back I can see that I was baking pies as love offerings in the hopes of receiving love and attention in return.  And, I can see how sad it is that he couldn't receive the gift of my pies.

What do you do for love and attention?  Is there something burrowed in your heart?



Photo by Dustin J. Williams on Flickr.com

I read a lot.  I was recently asked if I knew how many books I owned.  "A lot?"  I answered meekly.  "10 boxes.  You have 10 boxes of books.  Albeit they're small boxes that weigh a ton but there's 10 of them." I don't read fiction very often.  I read non-fiction.  I think it's stems from my deep desire to learn and grow.  If the book is so-so, I only own it in one format.  But if the books is good, I own it in three formats audio, hard copy, and digital formats.  A little OCD I know but it works for me. Then there are books like Brene Brown's book, The Gifts of Imperfection - books that I study.  Books that I highlight, write notes in the margins, take notes and go back to them again and again.  Books that send me back into the crucible of self-searching and the flames of self-awareness. Have you read it?  If so, what are your thoughts? What books have lit you up and made you look a little deeper into yourself?

Thanksgiving triggered the deepest sadness in my heart.  I chose to move almost 3000 miles away from home.  I chose to leave my husband.  Even so being apart from those I love and seeing photos on Facebook rip open my still infected heart.  Until yesterday, I was filled with conflicting thoughts, regrets, remorse and resentments aka as angst over the decision I made and the events that led up to that decision. 

On good days, I can think myself into better feeling thoughts.  On bad days, I must act my way into better feeling thoughts.  Only after sufficiently torturing myself did I ask for wisdom and a new opportunity to be of service.  My asking was answered.

It began in the afternoon when a friend came to the spa for a massage and a talk. During our massage session, we laughed and talked and coached each other into a better frame of mind.  She recently visited my apartment and said I had "Pixie-ized" it that it had good energy.

Another friend, who is moving after a disappointing job opportunity, clearly needed support after a highly emotional day.  I invited her to come over last night since she found my space soothing.  She agreed.  As a little added treat, I baked chocolate chip cookies.  I don't know what the cookies do for anyone else but baking them is healing for me.  I silently laughed at myself while I baked the cookies.  When I don't know what else to do to help you, I'll feed you.

Late in the evening, my phone rang.  It was a third friend.  She was looking for a safe place to stay for the evening to escape some serious conflict at home.  She ate a few cookies and went to bed.

I took one friend home and returned to my apartment past midnight feeling the deepest gratitude.  I was grateful for my apartment.  I was grateful for making it a safe and soothing place where my friends can come when they need cookies and comfort.  I was grateful for being the nurturer that I am.  I was grateful for Dharma who is just as loving and healing as any dog can be.  I was grateful that I could just say, "come over" without asking permission or worrying about being growled at.  I was grateful for my life's experiences and pain that helps me feel empathy and compassion for others.  I was grateful for my life.

What do yo do when you're negative thinking is hurting you?

Marsha Schermer's teapot is a constant reminder to me that life is short.  Live it now.

Marsha Schermer was an attorney for Time Warner Cable in Columbus, Ohio.  She was a beautiful smart blonde woman in her early 50s.  One summer she cleaned out her office and gave away the things she no longer wanted.  I took the teapot.

At the time, I was in my early 40s.  I can remember Marsha sharing with the other women in the office how good her 50s were.  Nothing like she thought they would be.  It's as if at 50, she knew who she was and didn't care what other people thought about her.  All the angst of the discovery years of her 20s, 30s & 40s was gone.  She was at the peak of her career.  She was beautiful and sexy still and she knew it.

Later that year (I think), Marsha and her boyfriend went on a driving vacation in New England.  They awakened early one morning to drive to the next point of interest.  As they rounded a blind curve, they were hit head-on by a drunk driver.  Marsha's boyfriend was seriously injured.  Marsha was killed instantly.

Sometimes I imagine what it must have been like for Marsha to wake up happy with someone she cared for and who cared for her, feeling relaxed and happy to be on vacation, feeling excited about what the day may bring.   What must have it been like in that moment of terror right before the crash before being rocketed into the next dimension.

We never know what lays around the next corner.  Life is short.

How do you want to live it?