Discipline (and other nasty words)

With each new blog, I promise myself to become focused and disciplined in making posts. As you can see from the dates, I failed. This procrastination trickles into my exercise schedule, my Facebook and other media posts, and even my correspondence efforts. Does anyone else have this problem?

It feels like there is just too much going on. As I reexamine what I’ve done that could cause the hours to vaporize, I see so many different interruptions or distraction that I don’t know which one to blame. Why is it so much easier to give self-destructive behavior priority over sound, healthy, logic?

I understand that we invest the most time into the things from which we want the most benefit. An example is that if a child learns that more attention is gained from misbehaving than from being good, they will be naughty…even if the attention they receive is painful. We get endorphin releases from every emotion we feel whether it is pain or pleasure. After a while, our addiction to the chemical causes something similar to making a scratch on a record...it becomes an easy path to follow. I believe that when we are not getting enough endorphins from 'happy' or healthy habits we fall back on the other.

There may be a way to retrain the source of my stimulus. A few years ago I learned a handy sales tool. It was to write a ‘5 Most Important Things’ list. To do this, simply write a list of the 5 things that you want to complete

the next day. It helps to write them in order of their priority. Then check off each item as it is completed; a nice neurochemical release in itself. The list helps keep you on track regardless of interruptions. If by some chance, the list is not completed by the end of the day, just move that item(s) to the top of the next day’s list. Ahhhh, that feels better already.

What Do I Want?

One of my friends has a signature on her e-mail that states “The happiest people don’t have everything…they are just happy with what they have.” Noble words yet they always leave me with an unformed question in the back of my mind. Today her phrase came to mind again as I was allowing a critical assessment of a happening in my barrio to consume my thoughts.

The tranquil Sunday morning had been suddenly shattered by the sound of an amplified siren, followed by the piercing blow of a foghorn. The assault continued for some time augmented with Riga- tone music; a kind of Latin Rap. All of this was being projected from disco speakers about a block away from our house. Even though this is typical of Hondurans for parties, advertising a business or just a beckoning customers, my mind immediately went into its “stink” mode. I began condemning folks willing to sacrifice the quality of life of their neighbors for a few Lempira income.

As soon as I became aware of those thoughts I began to put on the brakes by asking myself, “What do you want?’ ‘What did you have planned today that the celebration would interfere with?’ Since that would probably be what was happening; the location of the music would make it be part of a birthday, wedding or such. I should be grateful that I do not live across the street and just focus on something positive until a neighbor who speaks the language better complains to the right person and gets the noise toned down.

And that’s obviously what happened. As I write this a mix of Caribbean, Popular Spanish and Ranchero music floats through the yard at an easy volume for anyone in the neighborhood to easily hear but not suffer from … minus the amplified sound effects.

Outside of my negativity I heard my rational mind ask; ‘What do I want?’ I realized it was asking what would it take for me to release critical judgment of the actions of others? I learned years ago that material things don’t make people happy. Even more, that any material thing I wanted could be attained just by deciding on it and then holding the positive intent. As my friend’s statement says being happy with what you have is important since that satisfied state helps create more. Negative thoughts are constricting.

So, there it was, the question that insisted I bare my soul of ego and stand naked and venerable before the trappings of the world. I could feel fear rise to protect my heart. Yet as I put aside the fear and allowed the question presence with each ensuing question, I was finally guided to the eventual answer. I want to achieve my ultimate potential; the answer that becomes its own question.

Let Go of All You Fear to Lose

I’ve just returned from holding workshops in the States. It is alarming to see the condition of sadness and despair that fills so many communities. The news media only reinforces this negativity by sensationalizing unhappy events associated with the process of change that is happening. This is probably why I was impressed to start doing the “TOOLS FOR TRANSITION” workshops.

One of the greatest things about facilitating workshops is that I get to learn so much; and I had many opportunities to test my beliefs with this one. In the business of preparing and marketing a class (especially at this long distance) it’s easy to lose sight of the positive outcome I want to see from these travels. Deadlines, communication stalls, media coverage promoting tales of terror are all distractions from the intent I have placed on my work. And yet the “work” helps me remember to USE WHAT I TEACH.

This past trip to the Phoenix area was definitely a test of the tools I teach from last minute changes in my meeting room, unedited advertising that offered my class for FREE, flight itineraries that took me to another region of the nation to begin my return with only a half hour between each of the three connections. I found myself thinking that my luggage would never make my final destination with me.

As I realized the negative spiral of my thoughts I immediately stopped. Erasing them, I replaced them with positive images of the outcomes I wanted: harmonious people attending my workshop and my luggage sitting at my feet in Honduras as I waited for my husband to pick me up.

Try this experiment: think of one thing that is making you sad or unhappy and allow yourself to erase the image and replace it with one of the outcome you want. Don’t think about HOW you will get there, just see it completed as you want. In letting go of the fearful image and replacing it with with one of faith, you have made the first step in bringing about change. Now, hold on to the new image.

Weaving a Dream

It’s difficult for some people to get a picture of what is happening when they read or hear the term “Dream Weaving.” I think part of the confusion comes from the popular Native American dream catchers. One, the dream catcher, is passive and the other proactive.

I’ve been tempted to address this confusion for some time but have been busy working on a new book teaching the use of spiritual principles to produce a new reality. The title is “Let the Rain Come Down: spiritual tools to affect change.” This morning the term dream weaving was questioned again. As I heard my words offered in explanation, I realized I was spouting the same components I have been writing about. Universal principles are the very fibers to turn the vaporous facets of dreams into a physical reality.

Much like the beautiful textiles of Mayan and Peruvian weavers, they are woven strands of colored cotton or wool that create a finished picture the world can understand. The casual observer sees only the assorted spools of color; they have little form or interest. Yet even before the first strand is placed the finished picture exists in the weavers mind.

With the cosmic laws of polarity, vibration and mental gender it is possible to lay a dream foundation. Our mind, being part of the greater Divine Mind is supported in each and every wish. Still, so much of our reality is reflective of our perspective. It is the resposibility of each weaver to willingly release past pains and tainted truths to clear the fabric for the new picture (reality) to appear. Forgiveness, faith and gratitude become essential threads.

When Dreams Become Nightmares

As we dance with a Greater Mind in the daily creation of our realities we become pure potential. This idea is the foundation of Positive Goal Setting, Masterminding, Treasure Mapping and others practices. So why does it seem that as we near the fulfillment of a dream it can appear as our worst nightmare?

It is because the person who asks for a thing is never ready to receive it. If we were, we would already have it. We are always in some state of growth, awakening to new levels of awareness. Take for example a child influenced by a courtroom television series. The program plants a seed of desire to become a lawyer. Over the years the child carries this seed in its heart until he or she finally stands before the doors of the university that will offer the fertile ground for its growth.

Yet as it seems the dream is being realized, along comes the rude realities of algebra, philosophy and computer sciences besides the various classes on law that one would expect to study. Compound this by the years of study, responsibilities of economics added to the burden of balancing it all and the light of the dream can begin to fade into a gray nightmare. Using the example of a child is a bit extreme yet to some extent each of us is new and naïve as we begin to weave the magic fibers of a dream come true.

Just as a dream is made up of fibers we are not a one-dimensional entity. We are physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. Our cells have long and short-term memory, our brain stores experiences that are conscious as well as unknown to us. Every experience, every authority has left its imprint on us with each event creating an agenda or influence of its own. In addition there are many different aspects of WHO we are and we seldom look past the most obvious reason for our desire. It’s like a spider sitting in the middle of a web; every thread an influence in our lives.

These deep thoughts are the distraction that my mind offers in helping me to evade the study of Spanish. Just like the story above, I once had a childhood dream to speak Spanish but surrendered my desire to authorities that language and grammar where not my strong points. Even though I accepted their assessment the tiny seed was planted and laid dormant in my heart.

Living in the rural Midwest offered little outside support yet I felt myself drawn to Latin music and Latin dance. Life choices kept me busy and buried in responsibility until finally twenty years later my choices took me to Florida and natural health studies. As a practicing naturopath my list of clients grew I found more and more of them were from Central or South American countries where herbal remedies were a natural part of medicine.

This contact awakened the sleeping seed, but the child inside me remembered that I was not smart enough to learn another language and so I tried to hush the awakening seed. Yet the seed was awakened and part of its germination process was to reach for light.

It took ten more years but here I am living in a Spanish community in Honduras. Sometimes my head hurts from trying to absorb this new language and I often feel like I am on overload. Still that’s when I hang on to the reminder that my dream has come true, possibly in the only way I will allow it. And that sense of gratitude brings light into the grayness and I see my dream becoming reality.

Motherless

Mother’s Day without Mother

My mother passed away in June of 2005 and each holiday that followed was a first time experience: her birthday two weeks after her passing, Thanksgiving, and then Christmas without her, etc. I don’t mean to give the impression that she and I were close. We had good experiences but our head-to-head relationship was never chummy and often placed weeks of no contact between us. Nevertheless, for fifty seven years of my life she was always there like the perennial grass. And like the grass, sometimes attention and maintenance were demanded and occasionally it would give me the itch, yet there had never been a time in my life that it wasn’t there.

When the first Mother’s day rolled around, Mom had been gone for almost a year but the day dedicated to mothers was a pointed reminder of her passing. As I wondered how I would chose to deal with this day my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing. It was a young woman I knew, calling to connect with someone who would understand her pain. This twenty-one year old had lost her mother in Hawai’i within minutes of my mother’s death three thousand miles away in the Ozark Mountains; this loss was one more link we shared in our friendship.

I listened as she processed through the deep void she was feeling. As I heard my voice offering support and comfort, shadowy memories of other phone conversations passed through my awareness. How many times had my mother coached me through difficulties? The consoling reassurance that I was offering was a legacy that acted as a memorial to my mother. In reaching out to me, this young woman had given me a gift; a positive way to fill the void that the passing mother always leaves. The gift was service.

Since then it has become my habit to give a gift to mothers who seem forgotten with some small token such as flowers, baked things, or rarities that I pick when I travel. Just like that phone call was to me, a surprise contact and an unexpected gift, I try in my own way to help others feel remembered and appreciated on the day that is set aside to honor them as mothers.

Following in the Footsteps of the Maya

It never ceases to raise eyebrows when I mention that my husband, Ordin and I have moved to the Central American country of Honduras. Many folks presume it was because of U.S. politics; some believe we were pursuing affordable retirement; while others assume we wanted to reduce distance from our Hawai’i home to family in the States. Though each of these reasons influenced our decision, only a handful of people would appreciate the undefined energies that have drawn me here.

It was around December of 2003 that subtle forces gave-up being subtle and yanked the rug from beneath my feet. I had just returned from a ten day spirit walk with Mayan Elders through ancient ruins in Guatemala and Honduras. The pilgrimage was during the Harmonic Concordance where six planets formed a Grand Sextile. I was told this would create a star gate. Having turned fifty-five that year, it seemed an auspicious time. If a star gate was going to open in a sacred triad of Mayan places, I wanted to be there.

The return home found me questioning what I had gleaned from the experience. Days of riding on overcrowded buses, drenched from torrential rains, and fatigued from keeping pace with a seventy year old Mayan, imparted greater effect on me than any slight influence from the ethers. I teach spiritual principles, but like many people, I still stumble over my own agenda. Dirty laundry and lists of client phone calls demanded my attention, yet the energies that brought me to sit with the Elders were still at work. They needed for me to stay attuned. So, what was the best way to keep me still and listening? A fall and torn a ligament.

Weeks of sitting with my elevated leg gave ample time to appraise the Guatemalan experience, review my journal, and meditate. Flashes of insight visited my mind. One image was a man walking down the driveway to buy our house. Selling the house was an idea we had previously discussed since the market was high, but where would we go? Hawai’i leaves an impression difficult to replace. The Universe seemed to anticipate this hesitation and so a bulldozer arrived to ravage the acre of jungle beside our home. It was our confirmation; it was time to go.

About that time Ordin returned from the weekly Hilo market filled with stories of life in Central America. It had become popular with Europeans and Americans over the last few years. “Humm.” I thought, “The land of stone, where the eagle meets the condor.” I had never considered moving outside the U.S. but it could be worth exploring. We dusted off the office globe and scanned the multicolored shapes to renew our knowledge of C.A. geography. We both loved the warm waters of the Gulf and Caribbean so we focused on countries bordering those waters with easy access to the States. We narrowed it down a bit but how would we choose? As I surfed the net I became vaguely aware that a tune kept whispering to my mind. It seemed faintly familiar but I could not find words for it. As my daily research continued so did the melody until its insistence finally broke through the resistance of distraction. What had seemed like a tune was actually a rhythm. It came from the chant my Hawaiian kupuna had taught me; one that asks for direction from the ancients. And so I gave it voice.
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From that point there was no singularly profound event that occurred as we completed our steps of relocation, yet there were fascinating synchronicities. Among these we connected with Honduran people in the States and found our dream home with the first search on the internet. Still, I cannot tell you why I am here. Is it earth changes, my Elders, or energies related to the star gate? I do not know. However, I have learned to be more aware when I ask for guidance. When I feel lost and seek direction I walk out the rear gate to the river behind our home. It is a channel that connects the Nombre de Dios Mountains to the Caribbean one block from our house. I call on the Mayan spirits of the four directions and offer them the chant of the old ones; then I wait.