Possibilities

Perhaps you have traveled to a foreign country where you soaked in the local color, the sights, and smells, and you loved it, yet all around you heard languages that sounded like clanking tin. Nothing made sense. Then by some quirk of fate, you run into an English speaking person. Wham-o, an instant friend. You jabbered away at something like back home and where you’re from and how it is traveling. 

They spoke your language.

That happens once in a while at social gatherings—we find an instant friend. 

Someone who speaks our language. 

We search the web and are usually attracted to something familiar.

Oprah speaks of “ah ha” moments, a moment when something clicks. It is a piece of a puzzle we have wondered about or it is a concept we hadn’t considered. Wow. Ah ha, I knew that, I just didn’t piece it together. Something familiar triggered it.

Aren’t we all looking for puzzle pieces that can make sense of our lives, or of the great mysteries of the universe, or how to handle difficult situations? 

I once heard a psychologist tell about being assigned as a therapist to boat people, refugees. She knew she wasn’t equipped to deal with the horrors many of them had endured, leaving their home, their people, their land ravished by war or some disaster.
However, when she spoke with them, they said such things as “I met this guy on the boat, do you think he likes me?’

See, people aren’t so different,  And affairs of the heart are high on the list of concerns.
There were Shamans of old, wise men who did know more than the rank and file, and then Fakers came in and made a muddle of it. 

Rather like today.

But maybe we can sort it out, what’s real, what’s not. 

What to choose?

The familiar, or the unfamiliar?

Long ago when I was into Egyptian lore, I read that when a stranger wandered into their village, the Egyptians would ask that person who their god was. 

They didn’t care. It was not a test. They just wanted to know. These inquiring people believed that God had so many aspects that all was possible.” 

Are we into survival or into a belief in possibilities?

I experienced a crack in conscious this past week when I watched a YouTube sent to me by a fabulous Wish on White Horses reader.  It was The Three Amigos, a question and answer session with Gregg Braden, Joe Dispenza, and Bruce Lipton.*
You know how we can have our set of beliefs, and we keep recycling them until they become cemented in place? 

A long time ago Dr. Ighaz Semmelweis (1865) declared that the reason woman got and often died of childbed fever, was because doctors didn’t wash their hands after autopsies, but went straight to examining a woman in labor. Germs had yet to be discovered, but he had a piece of the puzzle. He felt that the doctors had some cadaverous material on their hands. 

The doctors felt that because they, being illustrious gentlemen, couldn’t possibly have dirty hands. Semmelweis was ridiculed and ended up in an asylum. Now he is called “A savior of women.”

We need a crack in consciousness once in a while to let in a new thought.

Mine came when I heard Gregg Braden talk about  “The field.”

The field, says Braden, is where all experiences lie. I’m new to this and found it fascinating, but since I don’t know much about it, this is a teaser. If you have more to add, feel free.

Scientists now believe that space is not empty, but filled with “Dark matter.” Not dark meaning sinister, just not seen, therefore dark. And light cannot find it.
So how did they find it? 

Gravity, and other measurements to complex for me. Like how in the heck can they weigh the universe? 

Gregg says the field holds all our collective experiences and that we can access it. There are proteins on the skin that act like antennas that can reach into the field.
(Is this the Akashic Records?)

Braden calls this field, “The Divine Matrix,” a primal web of energy that connects our bodies to the world and to everything in the universe.

It opens the door to a powerful and mysterious possibility.


*https://youtu.be/P_FIYwg2oU4


P.S. I found the perfect watch for me.

August? What’a-’ya- Mean it’s August?

I’m anxious to see the cover art for my book The Frog’s Song. They say the proofs will be available for my review at the end of August—one good reason to say, “Hi August.”

And I’m excited for my publisher Regal Publishing (the house that Jaynie built).  Jaynie Royal is a force to be reckoned with. Regal has recently signed with IPG (Independent Publishing Group) a trade distributor for on-the-ground sales.

Imagine getting into Costco—don’t know if that will happen for me, but I can imagine it) plus, Regal has attracted the attention of Forward Reviews, a Purple Cow, Blue Ocean company.

If you saw a Purple cow standing in a field, wouldn’t you want to tell somebody?  (Purple Cow is the name of Seth Godin’s book.) And regarding a blue ocean, if your water is running blood-red with competition, wouldn’t you want to move to blue waters?

Long ago when I was into horse training I learned from #Pat Parelli, a horse gentler, that whatever everyone else is doing, do the opposite.  And I learned from my horse that she would go where I placed my focus, no reins required. 

Amazing.

I wonder how I can apply that to my business.

Focus—that’s good. Maybe I will go where I place my focus.

 I’m scared though.

Seth Godin wrote: "The growth of audiobooks is outpacing reading.”

We can still read though, he says, but pushing ourselves through a chapter is difficult.

And here I am writing words.

 

I like to read. I like to hold a book. I like to smell books. I like to feel their paper—and some of the covers these days feel like silk.

Don’t you sometimes wonder what happened to books, and when did bread disappear from our table?

I don’t know if thinking back is romancing the time or wanting to preserve it. Place it in a Mason jar and put it in the pantry I guess. It might be opened at a later date and found useful.     

Remember when you went to the library, and the librarian shushed you, but you cased the joint and found treasurers? Ray Bradbury educated himself by starting at one side of the library and reading around it.

Now the internet can serve that same purpose.

It’s not better or worse, just different.

Remember when you went to record stores, and comic book shops and inspiration was out in the world, rather than at your desk. It had to be sought out, in museums, in the forests, and in picking up shells from the beach.

Am I showing my age?

My hero.

 Ray Bradbury

Are You Showing God a Good Time?

“Ignorance on fire trumps experience every time.” –Insurance Salesman

Does anyone want to read a blog that isn’t about blogging?

Nope.

Well, maybe a few. Dear friends who are interested in what in the heck you do with your days. Some want motivation whether to take action or to make life changes.  Some are searching for answers to specific questions, like how in the world do we get high SEO ratings?

I haven’t a clue.

I know, though, that we’re all salespeople.

I didn’t think I was since I’m not charging for anything I write, post, or blab.

But I realized yes, I am selling. I want people to read my blogs—what in the heck am I doing here otherwise, blowing smoke?

I want people to buy my book when it eventually comes out in 2019.  (After two years with the publisher)

At a party aren’t you selling yourself when you strike up a conversation with someone?

Are we so jaded with somebody trying to sell us something that we turn a deaf ear? Some are shysters, yes, taking advantage; others are trying to make a living.  

And don’t blame the marketers, advertising is the way to get eyeballs on their merchandise.

People have to know it exists.

I want to give my gift. And I think that gift is to talk about self-realization, motivation, and spiritual growth.

Sound lofty?

Well, it is. I see how unhappy many people are. I see how they believe their self-worth is equal to dishwater. I see how they fear dying and fear living abundantly.

I see how people are carrying emotional injuries from childhood, protection that worked then, but as an adult, it isn’t working. Boy, do we need to drop that garbage.

I see how 10’s of thousands of people throng to Tony Robbins events with the intention of either healing themselves or gaining a greater understanding about how life works. Some want to rise to greater heights. I saw how when Tony speaks with a participant; most are suffering.

In conversations, people roll into fear—you know, the government, “trying to do God’s will.” Well, crap, God’s will is your will. That’s my message. Carve out your own path. Give God a break.

“Are You Showing God A Good Time?”-

- Rev. Linda Finley (Center for Spiritual Living,)

You wonder in “Giving your gift” if the receiver will like it. You question if you have matched their tastes. They might re gift it, or give it to goodwill, or stash it in the closet. “Gee thanks,” they mutter while wondering what in the world you were thinking.

It’s embarrassing.

That’s the way it is with writing. You put out some words; some will be scooped up gentle as baby birds, others will get trampled.---Not the baby birds.

It’s a crap shoot.

But let’s get smart. Write what you want to read. Yep, yep, yep, I know not all people are like me, but you aren’t writing for the world. You are writing for a special few.

Are you are giving your gift? Find what floats your boat.

Find it. Give it.

Stack the Deck

“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” –Pablo Picasso

    Our souls are washed, our hair is filled with sawdust.

               A chainsaw artist took a break and left his bear holding the saw.

 

Husband and I took our little dog, Sweetpea to the McKenzie Chainsaw Festival in Blue River Oregon, although we were concerned about the noise.

Recently Sweetpea developed a fear of loud sounds. She gets excited about going in the car, though, so we often take her wherever we are going. That little curling up on the floor when we say she has to stay home, melts my resolve to leave her.

I figure she doesn’t know what she is getting into, but then, she knows that bacon might appear somewhere on the trip. (It did on this trip.)

The Obsidian Grill at McKenzie bridge, 20 miles on up the highway from Blue River makes a super-duper chicken sandwich--blackened chicken, no scrimping on the bacon, no scrimping on the tomato slices or the lettuce all green and curly. They add cheese that is cheese, a pepper, and serve all this on a toasted artisan bun that has a slight crunch, which gives it character, but doesn’t tear the skin off the roof of your mouth. (See there was a piece of bacon for Sweetpea. It’s her consciousness.)

Until Sweetpea ’s recent sensitivity I was oblivious to the crashing, banging of trucks with their air-brakes, their loading sounds, their off-loading sounds, and the roaring of them passing.   Well, of course, there are fireworks, and gun shots. The dog has sensitized me.

Desensitizing a horse is called, “bomb proofing,” I think earmuffs might be a good idea for a dog.

Daughter number one gave us a homeopathic for Sweetpea, and it seems to help a bunch. The homeopathic is, Aconitum Napellus 30x

After a dose, she handled the chainsaw noise like a trooper. Tractors were a different story.

In between exiting the car, (that was a delight for Sweetpea) and entering it again, (a greater delight—“Whew, I survived!”) we were struck by the ingenuity of human beings.

The carver made this bear in a log within a two hour specified time. The “Quick carves” (two hours) were then auctioned off. I don’t know who bought the bear in a log, my favorite, or what they paid for it—but to carve this in two hours?! Wow.

 In between Quick carves, the artists worked on their larger pieces.

 Buffalo by a lady carver.

Find meaningful work is one of the attributes that leads to a happy life. And in speaking to one of the carvers, he says he makes a living with his carvings. Often they are commissioned, so it's fun for him to to carve whatever suits his fancy.

While meaningful work is high on the happiness scale, there is one higher, and I was shocked to hear this--it is WHERE WE  LIVE.  

Yes, we must take care of  food, education, work satisfaction, committed relationships, and friends which whom you can have meaningful conversations, but stacking the deck is where we live.

You knew I couldn't end this blog without going into something resembling a life lesson didn't you? 

Dan Buettner,  author of “Blue Zones,” a researcher of places where people live the longest and are the happiest, says that regarding the happiness spectrum, about 50% relies on genetics with  50% being controllable.

However,  stacking the deck is WHERE WE LIVE. 

The peoples of Singapore are happy, but for the American independent that probably wouldn't work. They are secure, success is laid out, they work hard, they keep your head down. It's what is expected.

Costa Rica is "Puta Viva" Pure life, the cities are designed for face to face contact with other people, not just traffic.

Denmark, interesting that a cold climate is a happy one, for people are usually drawn to warmth, tropics, sunshine, water and mountains.  However in Denmark health care is no issue, students get paid to go to the University,  and status is not celebrated, in fact it is frowned upon. The Danes go on vacations, and 80% like their jobs. 

Canada is a happy place--hum, another cool climate. Daughter and I loved Canada. Imagine a place where they have signs for buckling up that say, "Be protected, not projected." Unlike the US's "Buckle up, it's the law." And in cities they have "Traffic calming zones," where a driver can pull over to the side of the road. They seem to be friendly, happy people.

Stack the deck. 

Orchestrate your own happiness.

To a wonderful life,

Joyce