How Different Would Your Life Be?

If you could tell yourself with confidence that everything always works out for the best?  How different would it be if you never saw any event as a failure, but rather simply a surprising turn of events that apparently needed to happen, even if it was unclear at the time?  What if you saw the universe as always looking out for you and nudging you to better places?

I think you would feel safe.  I think you would feel loved.  I think you would be optimistic, perhaps even confident.

You can, you know.  You can tell yourself that.  We build our worlds out of what we tell ourselves.  To benefit from this point you have to be capable of two things.  First, to be your own advocate.  You have to want to win as well as want yourself to have the victory.  Second, you have to want the victory badly enough you are willing to work for it.  Willing to change.

I've been actively telling myself things always work out for the best for about a year or so now.  Last weekend, I lost a filling.  It was so unexpected, so out of the blue, that I couldn't help but wonder what was up.  Why is this happening?  Or what will come from this?  Even as I did, I was aware and grateful that I didn't feel any pain.  Far from being at any complaining place about the situation, I was keenly aware I was getting off easy.  Thinking of conversations I've had with people who have witnessed the synchronicity of sudden change, I wondered if I would run into someone at the dentist's office.  I wondered if I would end up with a new filling that was in some way superior to the one I had lost.  That's what it turned out to be.  At the end of my appointment, the dentist and his assistant had the most amazing conversation about my new filling.  Apparently they had tried out a new product with my filling.

"I really like that color.  It's almost a perfect match."

It had this odd sensation of being talked about, in front of me, but in an approving manner.  Or even more, a sort of I was there and my mouth got a filling, but other than that, it had nothing to do with me.  They were talking about the materials as well as their own performance.  My filling was work that made them proud.  It was like listening to dentist geeks at a dentist convention.  I lost a filling and gained a better one.  I suspect a much better one.

It wouldn't have played that way a few years ago.  First, I would have obsessed about the loss.  I lost the filling on the weekend.  Every moment from then on would have been filled with awareness and worry about the lost filling.  It didn't hurt, but I would touch it over and over again with my tongue to make sure it still didn't hurt.  It was almost like I felt I would forget I had lost a filling right at some critical moment so I had to remind myself repeatedly.  Then after worrying myself out of any sleep, as I called about an appointment, I would dwell on how inconvenient it was.  Complain about how I would have to go to the dentist.  If I told anyone, it would be framed as things I was "made" to do.  While not being out of the realm of possibility, I certainly wouldn't notice it if the dentist and his assistant talked about my filling in that scenario.  I would only hear words at a negative frequency, mirroring my own emotions.

How different would your life be if you could tell yourself with confidence that everything works out for the best?  Give it a try.  I've found mine to be filled with delightful surprises.

Nothing Can Ever "Unhappen" - Reprint

Sometimes between projects, I find my mind whispering.  Not negative self talk putting me down.  It is more the quiet musing about what I want to do next.  Like a wind blowing through an empty hallway rather than actual words.  I will feel a restless energy and urge to create, but I'll have no focus.  That is how I feel today.  I am at a crossroads junction between beginnings and endings and I just don't know what I want to do or say.

It is an excellent time to revisit another earlier blog post.

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Some times many ideas and pieces of advice you've heard over the course of your life suddenly align themselves like a constellation of stars and paint a picture. It may be a picture you have known all of your life, but never fully comprehended until just that moment. That happened to me recently and when I tried to explain my newly learned concept to Art, he nodded and said, "Yes. Of course." Like I had simply said the sky is blue or fire is hot, when, to me, I had mapped out an entire network of why life can be so difficult to navigate.

In case you, like me, find this a more complicated, "I could get lost in the woods" sort of journey; I want to drop bread crumbs at each turn I think bears watching or noticing. I think my own journey began at the first bread crumb, "forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, not something you 'bestow' on somebody else." That tidbit of information first caught my attention on the Dr. Phil Show. His guest was a woman whose husband had cheated on her. Now I have another whole complicated network of opinions and beliefs about infidelity - none of which will appear here. What was important about the show was what happened when Dr. Phil tried to make the woman hear and understand the concept about forgiveness being a gift you give yourself. Rather than considering, embracing or finding relief in the idea, she was hopelessly stuck in the notion that if she forgave her husband it would mean he "got away with" cheating on her. Sitting in the comfort of my living room, far away from this woman who wasn't even among my sphere of acquaintances, let alone friends, I didn't know if I wanted to bang my head against the wall or throttle her. "He already GOT away with it." I screamed at the television. "Now you just have to decide what you're going to do with your life going forward. Stay with him or dump him." My money was on "dump him" because I couldn't see any way a person who was as stuck as she was could possibly ever find comfort or love in his companionship. I could see my way out of part of the puzzle she couldn't see. "Fish or cut bait" that's how I saw it. But even though I hadn't really realized it yet, I hadn't fully embraced this notion of forgiveness being a gift you give yourself. All I could see was the inertia present due to the corner she had painted herself into. 

I think it's time to drop another bread crumb, here. 

Anyone who has ever heard anything about a 12 Step Program has heard the concept: "The first step is admitting you have a problem." Many of us, knowing that we don't have a drug or alcohol problem, hear that phrase from the safety of a mind that feels it is information which doesn't pertain to me. We may joke about it occasionally with a friend who really enjoys chocolate or golf or "Survivor," jostling them with a friendly elbow telling them it is time to "admit they have a problem." We may hear about a friend of a friend or someone on television who is struggling with addiction and shake our heads feeling sadness about the destructive need to "hit bottom," but it is still a concept about others rather than something we consider about ourselves. Think about the woman on the Dr. Phil show: if you asked her if she had a problem, what would she say? She would tell you her problem was her husband cheated. She would say he was her problem. But is he? Isn't her problem really that she can't let go of the fact that he cheated on her? 

Bread crumb time. . .. 

I first heard this from Andy Andrews, I have since seen it enough places that I'm not sure where the idea originated from, but the concept is "your best ideas got you where you are today." The advice is to look for mentors or experts who can give you other ideas because no one was looking to screw their lives up. No one actively pursues "how can I make my life as miserable and messed up as possible." It was their best thinking that got them to this place where they are unhappy. Now, if we consider the woman on Dr. Phil again, perhaps you can see why I begin to think this is so complicated rather than easy like Art does. Her best ideas got her to this miserable place where she can't let go of the fact that her husband cheated on her because then "he'll get away with it," but she also can't figure out how to punish him or what to do about him in order for her to stop feeling the pain. On some level, she knows this and she has gone to a mentor or expert, Dr. Phil; but she can't implement any of his advice because the two of them have not reached an agreement as to what exactly the problem is. 

It's probably time for a small crouton here in the form of the definition of insanity. Albert Einstein once said "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Maybe it's just me, but I think if you can apply Einstein's definition to anything you yourself are doing??? You might want to go back to "admit you have a problem" although you still might have problems identifying what the problem is. Look at it this way, if you can apply the insanity definition to yourself, YOU are the problem. Not outside forces like your parents, your spouse or the government. It is something YOU are doing or, more likely, something you are thinking. 

Bread crumb.

I'm sorry; I don't know who introduced this next notion to me. It could be Eckhart Tolle; it could be Wayne Dyer. When I heard it, I felt an awestruck realization of truth. The idea is: "what everyone who has had something bad happen to them in life - they've experienced abuse or a spouse cheating on them or rape or whatever bad thing you can think of - if the person has experienced it and just can't get over it or past it - what they really want is for the event to have never happened." I knew the truth of it. I knew that was actually how I personally felt about some of the more unfortunate events of my own life. But simultaneously, I also knew that it is absolutely crazy to want that. Insane. Because that is nearly the definition of the grammatical concept of the past tense. It HAS happened. Not "will" or "is," but "did." Done, over, and out. Oddly, the notion what I actually wanted was "cuckoo for cocoa puffs" or absolutely bonkers gave me an odd sort of relief. It gave me the freedom not to want it anymore. 

We're nearly there, just a few bread crumbs left. 

So here you are, stuck banging your head against this wall of an event that can never "unhappen" feeling miserable. You can't have what you want, but what do you have? Thank you Eckhart Tolle, you have "The Present Moment." All you have is this moment. Whatever that bad thing was, it isn't happening in this moment. The only thing that can drag that bad thing to this moment, is you; and there are so many better things you can do with this moment. In this moment, you can choose to listen to that mentor or expert and take the steps to effect a change in your life. In this moment, you can take stock of your surroundings and realize not only is the bad thing not here, but you are safe and blessed with comforts you previously never really noticed. In this moment, you can choose not to be a scared, sad victim. In this moment, you can choose life. 

That might be enough. Maybe we don't need any more bread crumbs. But I have one and it's a good one. Perhaps it is the bread crumb that can lead you back to the present moment when the boogie men and gremlins from that past bad thing try to drag you back into its grip. Because it happened. It isn't going away and whatever mistrust you nursed into life or whatever survival skills you nutured as coping mechanisms; chances are they are here to stay as well. At least just a little bit. There is a sad but excellent chance you will not stay in the present moment, but will have to gently nudge yourself back here. So consider my bread crumb.

In Alan Ball's "American Beauty" there is a beautiful scene about an abused boy who finds beauty, spirituality and transcendence in a video he has made of a plastic bag being blown about by the wind.  About the video, the boy says, "Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... I need to remember." I loved the scene from "American Beauty" and coveted a plastic bag moment of my own.  Since one of the hats I frequently wear is that of a photographer, I have been nearly obsessed with capturing my own plastic bag moment on film. Only a week or two back, I realized I have been so numb and absent from the present moment that I already have had - I won't say "my plastic bag moment" because I don't think you need to be limited to just one - but I have had a plastic bag moment and captured it on film. 

Several years back I went on a weekend vacation to Lancaster, California, to witness the Poppy Festival and California Poppies in the desert. On the way to Lancaster, I drove up the Grapevine and through Gorman, California. Some years, and I was lucky to have gone there during one of those years, for a brief few days the hills of Gorman are painted in color as if dropped right out of a painter's pigment jars. No artist could paint a scene as magical and fantastic as the one you see - live and in person - in front of you. I knew I was seeing one of the best things I had ever seen. 

But wait a minute . . . . where's the bread crumb? 

It's just this. Bad things happen. Bad things may happen to you. Nothing happens out of this "present moment." It happens, it is done and we may be many moments away from what happened. You can choose whether to ever think of it again. But you know what? Good things happen in this moment too. "Plastic bag moments." In one of my moments, I witnessed the beauty of Gorman, California and I can choose THAT to think of again. " . . . . it helps me remember. I need to remember."

It Takes 4 Weeks to Create a Habit (Republished)

I still have a cold.  If you are in the Napa, California area, slather yourself in antibacterial gel.  There is a cold here right now that lasts weeks.  We say "cold" while secretly fearing pneumonia, laryngitis and bronchitis.  I'm sure we're all gaining meaningful experience from this, but for right now?  Can we just get a nap?

Today is Tuesday, though.  Time for my regular Tuesday blog.  I'm just not up to it today.  So here is a reprint from one of my earlier blogs.  I hope you enjoy it.

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I read a lot of self help books.  About a year ago, I learned in one of those self-help books that it takes four weeks for a human to create a habit.  It almost seemed like a message from beyond because it was reinforced and confirmed by numerous sources all at once.  But it frightened me a bit at the time because I was in the midst of  what had been predetermined to be at least four weeks of jury duty.

What about those things you do involuntarily for four weeks?  A habit?  So I would live the first four weeks AFTER jury duty building a habit to go back to work?

Yep . . . kinda.

Now I have been on Twitter for at least four weeks.  As I've said before, those of you who "get it" understand what fun I'm finding.  Those of you who don't, I'm not trying to exclude you - think of it more like the difference between those who enjoy hockey and those who enjoy opera.  Twitter just isn't your cup of tea.  

But after making jokes about the shorthand that people use text messaging and worrying that I wouldn't be able to understand the world because I don't text message:  I find my thought flow when I'm writing has begun stuttering and stammering.  I have created a habit of writing in the 140 character Twitter allotment!  Actually typing out the words "you" and "your" feels almost painful and I can't tell you how many times I've had to erase "@" and type in "at!"

Just the other day, my Dad said to me . . "as an English major . . "  It's true, I graduated from college as an English major, but that was long ago and far away and doesn't seem to even be an accurate descriptor for me any longer.  After creating my new 140 character habit, a monkey at a typewriter probably feels less apoplexy getting his grammar right than I do.

Four weeks and I have definitely created a 140 character habit . . . .

So why am I still reading self-help books to overcome the same old problems after years of working at it?

Recently I had an epiphany about that.  Let me explain.  

It came to me when I was up @ Amazon researching self-help books.  See that's what I do.  When I begin to struggle with sadness, anger or negative emotions, I either begin reading or listening to what I already have or go searching for more of the same.  At that point, I guess I figured I needed new inspiration and anger must have been what I was struggling with; so I searched through online page after page of books about coping with, dealing with and overcoming your anger.  Suddenly, like a cold slap across the face, all that I'd read kicked in and I understood my mistake.  

It's a question of focus and attention.  

One of my favorite things lately to allude to is the idea that Mother Theresa wouldn't attend anti-war rallies.  Rather, her position was that if you held a pro-peace rally, then you could count on her attendance.  See the difference?  It can be subtle and meaningless to those who would relegate it to simply semantics.   An anti-war rally is giving all the attention to what you DON'T WANT, but a pro-peace rally is properly addressing what you DO WANT.

So all those anger books?  Well, of course, they simply reaffirmed and underscored that I was exactly what I didn't want to be:  an unhappy, angry person.  You can't exactly build the habit that you want when you're focusing on the wrong activity.  Really, I was simply continuing a habit I already had - the habit of wanting to change what I was feeling.  

When I created that 140 character habit, I didn't read about how to Twitter.  I just tweeted and twittered & ; blipped & ; followed my way 2 finding nu ways of talking so u could get big pic in short sentence.

Habits r created by doing not planning to do.

:-)

On the Common Cold and the Law of Attraction

When I was a senior in high school, I received an award for not having missed a day of school in more than five years.  I thought it the stupidest award ever and secretly delighted that the day following the assembly was "Senior Cut Day."  I hadn't missed any days because I just didn't get sick very often.  My parents credited "Christian Science," their stated religion that they really didn't know all that much about.   To me, that simply shoved one more thing into the column "things that are Angela's that don't really belong to her."  Even my own good health had nothing to do with me!

I came back from Mardi Gras with the worst cold I have ever had.  In fact, it is not even the first cold I have had in recent memory.  I have had them a lot more recently and I realize how much I took my good health for granted.

Health is an area where my tender hearted feelings hate to say we have attracted our diseases and illnesses.  I have friends who have things they struggle with that make my cold look like the sniffles.  Just this year I was informed my ex-husband has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimers.  Imagine telling someone he attracted THAT into his life!

I actually began the trip to New Orleans with a sore throat.  I missed two days of work nursing it and wondering why this was happening.  What I didn't know was that a friend who was also taking the trip and who was also suffering a sore throat had a co-worker who had a cold and who daily said, "I hope I don't give my cold to all you guys going to Mardi Gras!"  Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you co-attraction!  By the end of the trip we had indeed all received at least a little of that co-worker's cold.

I can't blame all of it on him, though, because as I said, I've had more than my normal share lately.  This cold saps me of strength, makes me cough uncontrollably and generally, makes me feel like a red "Biohazard" should be taped across my forehead.  It has given me a lot of time to sleep and a lot of time to sit relatively quietly and think.  First, when I've attracted something undesirable into my life, I think the first thing to consider is what it forces me to do.  A cold forces me to take better care of myself for a number of days.  I had to wonder, could multiple colds be multiple reminders to take better care of myself?  Which forced me to admit it has been more than a few years since I have really taken care of myself.  Somewhere around the end of my marriage, I began a path towards greater emotional maturity and happiness.  It was easily the best decision I have ever made.  Along the way, however, it is easy to become too attached to a person or an idea and then it is like time freezes.  Forgetting that attachment is NOT the goal, I set sleep, exercise or vitamins aside in pursuit of more of that person or idea.  I stop taking care of myself.

Today, somewhere between nap number two and three, I found myself crying about a very old emotional pain.   One I recognized very long ago and have never quite overcome.  For me, that is how it works.  Look to the obvious.  What is the undesirable forcing me to do?  Wait for inspiration.   It is time for me to clean up some very old biohazards in my heart.  I am ready.

Life is One Big Mardi Gras

While you read this, I will be at Mardi Gras.  In New Orleans.  Two things happened about a year ago this time.  First, I was just about the lowest I have ever felt.  You don't need the story.  You've heard the story.  What's important was I felt very low and I needed something to raise my energy.  To get me excited.  At the same time, I was becoming reacquainted with an old friend who, during the in between years, had begun making a habit of going to Mardi Gras.  She had an entire community of other friends who went too.  They wore costumes and threw beads besides only catching them.

In other words, I had the opportunity not only to go to Mardi Gras, but to go and be in the company of aficionados.  It is a bucket lister.  A unique opportunity combined with the chance to photograph one of the places on my top 5 list, one on my top 20 and another on my top 100.  Plus I get to visit with an old friend and make new ones!

I really want to tell you about it and I will, but right now?


I'm living it.

Being Brave Enough for Your Dreams

In 2006 I began trading stocks.  It came after my father telling me I should give it a try for nearly 20 years.  I didn't because I had too much resistance to my father and, once I was interested in the idea, I didn't have the means.  Like rappelling, trading stocks has been significant in that it had so many more gifts to offer than simply capital gains or dividends.

After much baggage I don't want to talk about, I had about $6000.00 to invest.  It was taking a bit of a risk because it represented more than half of my savings, so I tiptoed into the pool.  I only invested $1000.00 and my first purchase was only $281.00.  Ten shares of the Walt Disney Company at a share price of $28.10.  I typed my limit order (I had been watching Jim Cramer's "Mad Money") feeling as if someone was watching over my shoulder ready to challenge my right to do this.  The minute it showed up as being in my portfolio, I stared at it as if the numbers would immediately spin up or down like a gas pump.  In other words, I was ridiculously naive.  The second stock I bought was a royalty trust, SJT (San Juan Basin Royalty Trust,) a friend owned and recommended.  

While I'm writing this, I went to Scottrade to look up some of the information I was going to refer to and found myself drifting away and researching my stocks.  That's how I feel about stock trading.  I love it.  I find it intrinsically interesting BEYOND simply the potential to make money.  You need something like that.  You need two or three things that you don't do for the money.  You do them because you love to do them.  You do them because your life would have less in it without them.  

Now keep in mind, it took me years to believe in myself enough to give it a try and even after I did, I had to have the money needed to do it.  Then you have a learning curve.

The third stock I bought was Rinker Group.  An Australian cement company publicly traded (in 2006) on the NYSE as RIN.  I don't remember exactly how much it cost or how many shares I purchased.  What I do remember was within a week of me buying shares in that company, it received a takeover offer.  I was so excited and scared at the same time.  It was like I had a lighted firecracker in my fingers and I had to do something before it blew up in my hand.  I took the profit and "rang the register."  Honestly, it couldn't have been much.  I think I only had one share.  My experience combined with Jim Cramer talking about buyouts and takeovers taught me my first lesson.  If a buyout offer drives a stock you are holding up, take your profit.  Even though I got out in the first week of negotiations, I watched the Rinker buyout.  At the time I was so obsessed with potentially making a mistake, I couldn't do anything but watch to see if it all had turned out in my favor.  Or at least I thought I had.  While researching for this blog entry, I just discovered there was more to the story than I ever knew.  After I got out, I watched what happened.  In a long ugly battle, Cemex company (Ticker Symbol CX) of Mexico bought Rinker.  The stock never climbed as high as it had at the point where I sold it.  The thing I didn't know until today was that Cemex lost an antitrust suit about the purchase and the purchase was declared invalid.

Think about that.  Although I made only a little money, I made money on a transaction that was erased.  When you are working with the law of attraction, struggling with letting go of the "how I will attract this money," consider that.  I made money on a transaction that was erased.  Now tell me you've fully thought out all the ways money can come to you.

That's a pretty good point right there.  Thank you universe for that.  I was headed somewhere else.

Eight years ago, I decided to be brave enough to try a dream.  Today, not only do I still trade stocks, I still love it and I have gained bunches of confidence because of it.  Consider this:  back when I bought those ten shares of DIS?  I couldn't tell anyone other than my close friends what I was doing.  The "who are you to be doing this" anti-self-esteem headwind created too great a drag.  Now I can talk with other traders and, mostly?  Hold my own.

My point was simply to encourage you to give it a try.  Be brave enough to attempt just one of your dreams.  See where it takes you.

Life is a Great Adventure

So far in this blog, I've focused on the shortcomings of my life.  I've done it (maybe) to help you understand that I understand.  I've done it (maybe) to show you where I began.  I've done it (maybe) because I know first hand how hard it is to let go of your stories.

I have been thinking lately of what I would like my life to look like, what sort of client I would like to coach.  I have been focusing on all of the things I myself have had issues with and overcome.  It has kept me focusing on the stories of my past because I felt I needed them to help people.  I suppose I felt I needed them for other people who may have had them to feel understood.  I need to move past that now.

Ironically, today I will still tell you a story.  You may not be able to discern any difference between this story and the earlier ones I have told, but it will make all the difference to me.

My life changed when I watched the movie, "Defending Your Life."  Albert Brooks' "little brain" dealing with his fears felt familiar and recognizable to me.  I suddenly felt imprisoned by my fears and in short order, I found myself divorced and wanting to do things that pushed my boundaries a little.

I don't remember how I heard about it, but I invited two friends to come with me to Murphy, California, and rappel into the nearby Moaning Cave.  It sounds more intimidating than it is.  Or at least to me it does.  You don't have to know anything about rappelling to do it.  You don't have to know about ropes or knots.  Other people take care of all that.  You just need to be able to follow instructions.  That and be able to first, step into a small hole that may challenge your claustrophobia and second lower yourself down through a large open cavern that may challenge your fear of heights.

There were people ahead of us, so after they geared us up, we had to wait a little while.  Just like waiting in any line for a roller coaster, I found myself vacillating between slightly nauseous and needing to use a toilet.  I was pretty scared by the time it was my turn to step into the hole.  I got lucky, though, one of my friends had some issues with claustrophobia.  I chose to be strong for her.  By the time we reached the large cavern, I had overcome my fears and thought more about how I wished I could rappel faster to feel wind rush past me.

I didn't mention before, but at the time, there were two ways to enter Moaning Cave.  First, by rappelling as we did or second by a large spiraling staircase.  As I lowered myself through the large cavern and wished I could move faster, I heard people on the staircase commenting about me.

"Look at that.  Look how high she is.  I could never do that."

I could picture myself in their shoes.  I could imagine walking down the stairs and believing myself too frightened and intimidated to rappel.  At the same time, there I was.  Rappelling.  Not only that, but realizing even while I was hearing someone else voice her fear, it wasn't that big of a deal.  All it required was overcoming a bit of fear.

Things that you do like that?  They give you self confidence.  For me at least, they have helped change my perception of who I am.  I don't exactly know how to do it and I'm depending on the universe to send me inspiration, but that's the type of coach I want to be.  I want to guide people through life experiences that leave them feeling braver, stronger, happier, somehow larger than they were before.  I don't want to tell you anymore stories of how hurt I was or how small I was.  I want to share moments of growth and confidence.  I want to help my clients experience moments like that as well.  You hear that universe?  I'm ready for inspiration.

Meanwhile, I will keep telling you stories here.  I'll keep banging whatever drum this that I'm drumming.  But they will be stories of all of the wonderful things that have happened.  No more of the stuff I've overcome.  Let's just leave that as:

I was born.  I grew.  I learned.