Ducky turns one year old in a week. Hard to believe. I can still close my eyes and feel that warm little ball of wiggles I held in my arms when we brought her home last October. Tim says he vaguely remembers being able to carry her around. She’s now almost 45 pounds of mostly spring-generated muscle.
Since Ducky is my greatest and most consistent source of joy (she’s sort of like a cannon that shoots me into the Vortex), I decided to spend a couple bucks for the props to stage a good Ducky birthday picture for The Joyful Springer (it will be on the site on the 24th). So a few days ago, Tim and I stopped in Wal-mart to get a birthday hat and balloon. (more…)
Last week, Tim and I finished updating the Novel Writing Made Easy System, my e-book/audio package. We finished our “product test”—asking for feedback, I’d sent the updates to people who had bought the original version of the package. The great testimonials I received in response went onto the sales page.
Although we’re still working on Facebook pages and I have many promotional articles to write, the bulk of the project is complete.
And yesterday, I felt lousy.
Say what?
Why did I feel bad when I could have been exulting over a job well done?
Two things happened:
One of the writing groups I belong to on LinkedIn sent its weekly update of postings. I’ve yet to post in any of the LinkedIn groups because I only finished semi-completing my profile last week, but I glanced at others’ posts. One of the posts was a writer’s complaint that she’s set up Facebook Fan Pages but has received few fans. How can she get people to notice her, she asked.
Instantaneously, I felt my energy plummet. I became tense.
I’m aware enough of my emotional guidance system that I knew I’d just had a thought that didn’t align with my nonphysical being, and I knew what the thought was: “This writer is right—it’s SO difficult to get people to notice you. As usual, I’m one tiny whisper in a sea of screaming voices. What made me thing my information would be noticed any more than anyone else’s?”
Not the most empowering thought, I know. No wonder my nonphysical self didn’t agree with it.
Of course, the law of attraction was, as always, on duty. So even though I was aware of the negativity of my thought, I’d chewed on it long enough for the law of attraction to do its work.
Law of attraction brought me the second thing that set off my lousy mood. I checked our Pay Pal and Clickbank accounts, and in the three days the sales page has been up, we’ve had no sales.
Yes, I know. Three days isn’t a long time. But this is a sales page that has been up, in its previous form, for years. We usually get a sale every other day or so at least. I decided this was a bad omen.
And of course as soon as I decided that, my emotional guidance system went off again. I felt even worse. This time, I was close to tears.
I started hooking into my old failure story: I finish a project, and it doesn’t bring me the results I want.
No wonder that by the end of the day, I felt awful. Instead of staying on the road of triumph in my completed project, I had set off down the road of doubt.
Doubt Is A Hardy Seed
In her book, One Day My Soul Just Opened Up, Author Iyanla Vanzant, writes:
“Doubt is bred in the mental state of attachment or emotional investment in the outcome. When we have a fixed idea of how things should be and how we want them to look, we become doubtful that we will get what we want.”
Doubt works like this: We focus on something we desire. At first, we may do so with joyful intent, and in that joyful intent, we take inspired action. We have enthusiasm for the doing. This is where I’ve been for the last month or so. I’ve been in a state of exhilarated focus on my project.
At some point, though, most of us start to evaluate our progress. I definitely do this. We look for some specific evidence we think signifies that we’re on the right track. We believe that if we see this evidence, it means it’s all going to work out the way we want it to. If we don’t see this evidence (as I haven’t in the last couple days), we begin to doubt the result. “The moment a seed of doubt becomes imbedded in our thoughts,” Vanzant says, “we can become so preoccupied with fixing what has apparently gone wrong that our thoughts shift from the desired outcome.”
In other words, we begin thinking about the lack of what we want. And good old law of attraction keeps on doing its work: As Abraham-Hicks says,
“The thought that you think, you think, which attracts to it; so you think it some more, which attracts to it; so you think it some more. In other words, when you have an expectation, you’ve got a dominant thought going on, and Law of Attraction is going to deliver that to you again, and again and again. And you say ‘The reason that I believe this, is because it is true.’ And we say, the reason that you believe it, is because you’ve practiced the thought. All that a belief is, is a thought that you keep practicing.”
Obviously, continuing to feel lousy isn’t helping me attract anything good, so I set about to shift my thought. Doubt wasn’t a seed I wanted to nurture. I needed to plant a different one.
Enjoyment Is A Beautiful Seed
My shift away from doubt was weak at the beginning. I tried a few thought replacements that didn’t make me feel much better. Finally, though, I reminded myself that it wasn’t up to me to control how anything unfolded. I need to get my attention off what is and put it back on the result I’ve already created in my successful identity.
As soon as I had that thought, the image of a sand mandala popped into my head. Several years ago, I wrote a newspaper column about sand mandalas, but I haven’t thought about them since. As soon as I thought of them, though, I knew why law of attraction had brought me the thought in response to my tentative mental shift.
Sand mandalas are a Tibetan Buddhist tradition. Patient, gifted monks work with colored sand to create colorful, intricate patterns. The monks apply sand granules using tubes, funnels and scrapers until the desire pattern is created. Most sand mandalas take several weeks to build.
Once they’re completed, sand mandalas are ritualistically destroyed. The destruction symbolizes the Buddhist recognition of the transitory nature of material things.
Sand mandalas are a beautiful example of the way to cultivate a different seed, the seed of enjoyment.
Obviously, when monks create sand mandalas, they’re not doing it for an end result. They’re doing it for the process, the satisfaction of the task at hand.
As soon as I thought of sand mandalas, I knew what I must do. I must bring my focus back from any result I want to what’s in front of me now. I can’t let myself think about where I’m going or what obstacles might be between me and where I want to be. I have to be here now where I want to go.
The way to do that is to keep moving, in focused enjoyment.
In the movie, Finding Nemo, Nemo’s dad, Marlin, is discouraged because his search for his son isn’t going the way he wants it to. His new friend, Dory, gives him a pep talk. Her pep talk may seem simplistic, but it sweetly and humorously captures the perfect way to trade doubt seeds for enjoyment seeds:
Unless we want to create dingy, dark, miserable things in our lives, we can’t put our focus on what seems to be going wrong with our efforts. We must keep our attention on what feels good now.
It’s the enjoyment of the process, the positive aspects of what’s in front of us, that allows us to “keep swimming” in a sea of abundance and happiness, that sea where we must remain so law of attraction will bring us abundant and happy experiences.
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In keeping with the wise dog theme I started yesterday, I’m calling on the wisdom of my own dog, Muggins, today. Muggins went from physical to nonphysical form on October 19, 2009. She’d been with me in physical form for 17 years and 17 days.
Muggins was a 40 pound Springer spaniel who loved life. One of her favorite parts of life was carrying big sticks.
On our beach walks, Muggins routinely carried huge sticks. She was a master at finding the fulcrum point of the stick—even if it was way off center—and then lifting her head to carry sticks that weighed more than she did. I was used to seeing her do this, but two of the sticks she carried were SO big (one over 8 feet long) that I had to haul them home and keep them for posterity.
After Muggins moved into nonphysical, Tim sanded the sticks and put a coat of polyurethane on them. They’re in our bedroom, a memorial to our beloved Muggins.
Last week, a friend who knew Muggins but hadn’t been in our house before, came over. I’d told her about Muggins’ stick carrying in the past, so I showed her the sticks. She put her hand on one and said, “No! She couldn’t have carried these! They’re so big!” My friend lifted one of the sticks. “No!” she repeated. “That’s too heavy for a dog Muggins’ size.”
I assured her that Muggins did indeed carry those sticks, and Tim pointed out that when Muggins carried them, they were saturated with water so they were even heavier then and even bigger because he’d sanded them down since then.
Our friend was amazed. “I believe you,” she said, “but it seems impossible.”
And so it does. How did a small dog carry such big sticks?
She did it with joy.
Muggins LOVED carrying those sticks. Her eyes lit up when she found one and set about figuring out how to carry it. She carried her sticks with her head high, a prance to her walk.
When people driving by on the beach slowed and pointed at her (it really was an amazing sight), she raised her head even higher and fluttered her tail. She was something, and she knew it.
She knew something else too. She knew how to do the seemingly impossible. You do it by feeling such joy for your task that you don’t do the work … the universe does it for you.
Muggins was a great teacher in my life; but I’m a slower learner sometimes. I’m just getting her lesson. You don’t have to exert when you act from a good-feeling place. When you act from a good-feeling place, the universe does the work for you.
I used to take all action according to a strict AGENDA that I created from a GOAL-DRIVEN place of great DISCIPLINE. What did it get me? Not a whole lot worth talking about.
My work these days comes from a totally different place. I act from a place of delight. And if the delight isn’t there, I don’t act. Where is this taking me?
I don’t know yet. I’ll keep you posted.
But in the meantime, I’m sure having a good time.
I love comment and welcome yours.. To leave a comment, click on the “comments” link (it will say “No comments or “1 comment” or more) at the end of the tags in “Posted in” at the end of this post.
I turned 50 today. No, it’s not an April Fool’s joke. It really is my birthday. I’ve been celebrating it for a couple weeks and now I’m thinking the celebration shouldn’t end.
About fifteen years ago, I came up with the idea of a birthday aura. I think birthdays are important. They do, after all, mark the beginning of our physical journey here. So I decided one day just didn’t do it. I began treating myself especially well a couple weeks before my birthday.
In a birthday aura, ideally, you don’t schedule things you don’t want to do during a birthday aura. No trips to the dentist. No dreaded chores. You treat yourself to things you love. Sleep in if you want, take long baths, visit places you enjoy. You buy yourself little gifts.
When Tim and I got together, I told him about my birthday aura, and he asked if he had one too. Of course, I said.
And when his birthday came around, he got a surprise (either a gift or a special experience) every day for two weeks. He thought that was pretty cool.
My mainstream parents thought my birthday aura thing was silly … until my stepdad turned 80. Then he asked me, “Why haven’t I ever had a birthday aura?”
I said, “If you want one, have one.”
Mom told me later that I “created a monster.” For a month before his birthday, he kept suggesting they go out to breakfast or lunch (which he loves to do but doesn’t do as often as he’d like) because it was his birthday aura.
I love celebrating, and I look for reasons to do it.
Back when Tim and I had the money to spend (and we will again soon), we celebrated every 7th and every 26th of the month by having a candlelight dinner and giving each other small gifts. We were married on the 7th, and we first got together on the 26th. So we had two “monthiversaries” every month.
Tim used to give me roses every 7th, one rose for every year we’ve been married. It was affordable for the first couple years, but we’re up to nine now, and the budget won’t allow the romance.
When we stopped giving gifts, we somehow got out of the habit of the candlelight dinners too. Sigh.
What do we do when we celebrate?
We focus on some positive aspect of our lives and do something that makes us feel good to mark that positive. So isn’t finding alignment with our highest self just about celebrating more?
Celebration is a mindset, I’m beginning to realize. And it’s the mindset that Abraham-Hicks wants us to find a lot more often.
So I’ve decided to extend my birthday aura indefinitely.
I can take more long baths, watch the rain more often, and play with Ducky more. I can blow bubbles off my back deck, eat more avocados, and listen to more music that makes me tap my feet.
And I can have more candlelight dinners with my husband.
Life is supposed to be one long birthday aura. We’re born knowing that, but we forget and end up snatching bits of joy just here and there, confining celebration to specified days.
How about it?
Want to celebrate with me?
Your birthday aura starts today.
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In Complaint Free Relationships, which I read last weekend, Will Bowen references narrative psychology, a field built on the belief that the stories we tell about ourselves shape our identities and ultimately our lives. I hadn’t thought about narrative psychology in years, but I learned about it in college (I majored I psychology).
The idea is that we take the experiences we have in our lives, and we create a narrative around them, a story that connects the experiences and attaches meaning to them. It’s a sort of connect the dots thing we do to hook random events together to create “truth” where none really exists.
Once we create our story, we look for experiences to reinforce our story. We also filter new experiences through that story.
I mentioned in the post, Throwing Away The Drill, that for much of my life, my story was “I’m not good enough.” My story was more complicated than that, obviously. It had a lot of subplots about who I am as a wife, a friend, a writer, a dog mom, etc. But that was the theme of my story.
That’s not my story anymore, but my new one isn’t a whole lot better. And I wasn’t even aware of this lousy story until I saw that passage about narrative psychology. Then the title of my narrative flashed across the wide screen of my mind, with nice bright graphics behind it: “I Have Succeeded At Anything In Years.” Can’t you just hear the dirge-like, heavy musical score with lots of slow oboe and tuba action in it that goes behind that title. Maybe some nice screechy violins too.
When you have a narrative like this, you create a cast of characters for it. These are the qualities and feelings that you that you associate with your story. Here’s part of the cast that’s been starring in my story:
Failure (Big hairy dude with bad teeth)
Disappointed (Sniveling petite woman who blinks a lot)
Frustrated (Freckled kid who chews on her nails)
Doubtful (Old woman with a perpetual frown who carries mace in her huge old purse)
Angry (Big, big, big woman who eats Hostess cupcakes all day and growls like a dog)
Lousy Marketer (Weasel-like bald guy who corners people in elevators to sell them vitamins)
Worn Out (Thin woman with stringy hair and narcolepsy)
Terrified (Shrill blonde with red lipstick who’s constantly looking over her shoulder)
I could go on, but you get the idea.
Is it any wonder I’ve not been getting what I want lately? How can I with a story like that?
The law of attraction responds to how we feel now, not how we want to feel. When you have a lousy tale, you don’t feel good enough to wag your tail. If you’re not wagging your tail, you’re not attracting things you want.
If we want new experiences, we need to tell a new story.
So here’s my new story (inspired by one of Tim’s favorite slang words):
“Ande ROCKS!!”
Like it?
It sure makes ME feel good.
Here’s my new cast of characters (I won’t bother to describe them—they’re all vibrant, beautiful (in their own way), funky, and fun):
Amazing
Enthusiastic
Ecstatic
Radiant
Energetic
Fascinating
Wise
Funny
Rare
Insightful
Brilliant
Creative
Blessed
Blissful
Charming
Pioneering
Joyful
Kind
Inspirational
Intentional
Loving
Appreciative
and several more; but the star of the show is ……..
I’ve started living from this story instead of the dark one I’ve been telling myself for months. When you live from a story, you look at your experiences from the perspective of this story.
So whatever happens to me, I have to filter it through “Ande ROCKS!” and my cast of characters. This forces me to put a whole different spin on my experiences.
What about you?
What’s your story?
Who stars in it?
How does it affect your life?
Got a great story? Tell me.
To leave a comment, click on the “comments” link (it will say “No comments or “1 comment” or more) at the end of the tags in “Posted in” at the end of this post.
After I posted, How I Spell Relief, I received a message from a new writer friend. I’ve only corresponded with Gina for a couple weeks, but positive energy and enthusiasm radiate from her. Her attitude about life can be summed up in the title of a Facebook group she created, HELL Yes, Pigs Fly (the group is closed right now because she’s working on it, but it will be open again soon).
Regarding how to find a feeling good place when your work or efforts are being rejected, Gina wrote:
“What has helped me so much is to take complete responsibility for myself, to understand in an emotional way that I don’t HAVE to prove myself to anyone, to BE myself fully.
”Those rejection letters or any comments that sting are whatever YOU NEED them to be to validate whatever YOU NEED to feel or whatever feels comfortable to feel. There are all kinds of ways to validate fear that we all have, all kinds of ways to see failure if failure feels easier emotionally than success does. It’s about making a decision to change what feels comfortable if it’s something we’re ready to move away from.
“We repeat what we know. I had emotional abuse plugged into my love receptacle when I was a child. THAT was love for me. So, while I was anxious and determined to get away from that kind of love, I also struggled in a horrific way because THAT was my picture.
“Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to break free from an old picture and to paint a new one.
“Writing is such a personal expression. Sharing it is intensely personal. It’s hard to NOT feel it personally when someone doesn’t love what you’ve created.
“Take what feels constructive and helpful …. Leave the rest behind. You don’t NEED anything that doesn’t feel constructive and helpful. That’s just trash.
“Your journey is what matters most of all. A turn left instead of right changes your whole world sometimes. LIFE is full of wonder.”
And so it is, Gina.
Gina’s words prompted me to take a look at the picture I’ve been painting the last few years. When I looked, I wasn’t happy with what I saw. The picture was disjointed and dark, full of images that had nothing to do with the life I want to live and everything to do with my fears, resentments, and disappointments.
Tim, Ducky, and I spent yesterday evening with our good friends, Lyn and Kathy and their dog, Jake, on the beach by a fire, under a sky full of “God’s little lanterns.” While the dogs played, we humans sat by the fire and listened to the surf provide percussion for a chorus of frogs singing Spring harmony from east of the dunes. The dogs ran and barked and wagged, and we humans talked and laughed.
For over four hours, life was pure and simply perfect. Everything was right. I felt peaceful and secure and loved. I hope my friends and my husband felt the same. (I know the dogs did—they always feel that way.)
I’ve been flailing about for years trying to do things that would bring me the feelings I experienced last night. In the flailing, I’ve painted a mess.
I’m ready to paint a new picture, one that looks like yesterday evening. And what thrills me is that I don’t have to go back and redo the picture I’ve created over the last few years. I can just turn away from it and put my attention on my new canvas.
Abraham-Hicks says, “There is nothing for you to go back and live over, or fix, or feel regret about now. Every part of your life has unfolded just right. And so –now– knowing all that you know from where you now stand, now what do you want? The answers are now coming forth to you. Go forth in joy, and get on with it.”
And that is what I’m going to do.
You create your reality. What picture are you painting?
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Tim and I have made a pact. For one week, starting today, we are not going to complain about anything, not one single solitary tiny thing. Not out loud and not in our heads.
Complaints are, of course, negative energy. Complaints aren’t vibrationally aligned with anything we really want.
Abraham-Hicks says:
“You have in your vibrational escrow all those things you want, and you could pick any one thing on the planet that’s going wrong or in your life and give it your undivided attention, and you could keep all of those things that you want from happening because you’ve activated such a vibration of lack over this one thing. Isn’t that interesting? Because whatever it is that you use as your excuse to offer your vibration, sets the tone for your point of attraction.
“Haven’t you noticed that the the worse it gets, the worse it gets for awhile, until you come to your senses? And the better it gets, the better it gets, until you fall back into your old habits? In other words, haven’t you noticed that you can get on a run where you’re feeling really good and things just get better and better and better and then some old person shows up in your life or something happens and you get re-focused or you watch CNN or you go to the movie on Global Warming and you have sort of a Resistance Relapse?”
In other words, every time we turn our attention to complaining, we activate resistance that keeps us from moving toward what we desire.
But we spend a lot of time complaining … about really silly stuff, generally.
I find it funny, actually, how someone like me and others I know can talk about the law of attraction and how like attracts like and how we create our reality and then two seconds later complain about something.
It’s like my friend and I are looking at a fire. I say, “If I stick my hand in that fire, I will burn my skin, and it will hurt.” My friend nods sagely and says, “That is so true. We must keep our hands out of the fire.” Then we both put our hands in the fire.
Well, this week, my hands are staying out of the fire.
Complaints don’t serve me. If I see something I don’t like, I will use the contrast to help me determine what I do like. Then I’ll think about and talk about what I like.
If others are complaining, I am no longer going to stick to the social convention of, “Oh, yes, I know what you mean,” which is generally followed by another story of complaint.
I will listen and then find a positive aspect and mention that.
So if you are someone who plans to talk to me this week or communicate with me this week, be forewarned. I’m off the complain-chain.
This is the week for comMENDing, not comPLAINing.
Let’s applaud life instead of jeering at it.
Want to join me in a complain-free week? Leave a comment and state your intention to join us in our pact. Let’s see what we can create together by commending instead of complaining.
Yesterday, we were fortunate to get feel-good help from a Schnoodle.
Ducky’s best friend, Jake, the Schnoodle, stayed with us for a couple hours. So my parents could enjoy the pleasure of watching Ducky and Jake play, we walked the dogs down the street to their house and turned the dogs loose in the backyard.
Ducky and Jake had a blast playing with each other. And we had a blast watching. If you can watch two happy dogs playing and not smile, you have some BIG work to do to get yourself into alignment.
When you see Ducky and Jake together, you’d think they’ve been buddies forever.
They haven’t.
In fact, their first meeting didn’t go well at all.
Ducky was three months old when we brought her home with us. Kathy and Lyn brought Jake to our home to meet Ducky the day after we got her.
We all expected Jake and Ducky to hit it off immediately. Jake is three years old. He loves to play. He gets along with all manner of animals, from other dogs, to cats, to rabbits and birds. He was always gentle with our old 17-year old Springer before she passed.
But Ducky didn’t know anything about Jake. So when he came through our front door with Lyn and Kathy for the first time, Ducky squealed as if she was being tortured to death. If there was an audio dictionary for sound clichés and you looked up, “scream bloody murder,” you’d hear the sound Ducky made.
It was our fault. We didn’t consider that Ducky was so new to our house. Of course a dog charging through the front door enthusiastically would freak her out.
No matter what we did that day, Ducky would have nothing to do with Jake.
Not an auspicious beginning.
If we’d taken that beginning and used it to predict the future, Ducky and Jake wouldn’t have had any more play dates.
But we tried again. This time, we changed the dynamic. We put both dogs on leashes and had them meet out on the street, figuring that Ducky wouldn’t feel like her home was being invaded.
It worked.
Ducky fell in love with Jake. Now they’re crazy about each other.
Dogs teach us so much. Muggins was the best teacher I’ve ever had. Ducky, though young, is doing a pretty good job too.
Every time she gets together with Jake, she reminds me that I can’t look at how things are now and project how they’re going to be in the future. What’s bad now could be great later on.
Abraham-Hicks says that when it seems like you’re stuck, you’re not. Energy is always in motion. You’re never stuck. You just keep recreating the same thing over and over. To move on to something better, you need to change the dynamic, i.e, the thoughts you’re thinking.
In my virtual reality, this is how I spent my day.
I woke up just before 8. Ducky and her sister, Dandy, lay against me in the bed, their eyes open, waiting for me to wake up. When I pushed the button on my nightstand to open our black-out shades, both dogs turned into wiggle-waggle-squeaking machines. We exchanged exuberant oh-my-god-it’s-been-forever-since-we’ve-seen-you greetings while I looked out the window at the sun’s glitter on the surface of the ocean.
Tim had already left to go play golf. So I threw on my clothes, made a quick fruit smoothie, and the dogs and I set off for our walk on our acreage. We have four mile-plus long trails, and we did all of them today. Sun shining. Cool breeze. It was a wonderful walk.
I returned home, rinsed their feet in the Springer room (where we groom them), then went downstairs to the work-out room. I spent 4 minutes on the ROM and another 20 minutes practicing a dance routine I’m working on. The dogs watched me and rated my performance at a 7 out of 10—needs work. We all went back upstairs and I got into the Bath Cave (Tim’s name for our large stone shower). After my shower, I ate a small bowl of cereal.
I had have no writing deadlines right now, so after I ate, I went (with dogs at my side, of course) up to my art studio. I’ve been taking watercolor lessons, and I’m working on a landscape of the view from our home. From the expressions on Ducky’s and Dandy’s faces, I think they rate it even lower than my dance routine; but I’m having fun with it.
When Tim came home about 12:30, he found me at my easel. He and the dogs exchanged their wild greetings. He smelled all “golfy”—a mixture of grass and sweat and satisfaction. He said he was getting in the hot tub and wanted company. That was fine by me.
We spent the next 45 minutes in the hot tub while the dogs snoozed nearby (they ran like crazy on their walk and were still worn out). I love the hot tub—it never fails to put Tim and I in a great mood, if you know what I mean. I’m surprised he has so much energy after golfing, but he does, which is great.
Tim took a shower. I threw on some clothes and went down to the music room to practice piano and singing the harmony part I’m learning for a song Tim and I are working on together. Ducky and Dandy got their second wind and wrestled on the exercise mat outside the music room.
After my practice, I went to my office and updated my Joyful Springer blog. Tim was in his shop. He’s working on a table for some friends of ours. He’s been learning so much from our neighbor, who’s been wordworking for years.
I went back up to my studio to do some cartoon drawing and was surprised when Tim came in and told me it was almost 7. I really got lost in what I was doing.
Tim and I made burritos for dinner with fresh guacamole for me. He’s cleaning up the kitchen while I make this post, and then we’re going up to the SPAP (Scrabble, Ping pong And Pool) room to play some pool. We’ll probably watch a movie in bed later. The dogs love it when we do that because they can curl up with us.
It’s been a wonderful day in the Waggery, which means it’s been a normal day. I’m so blessed.
…and this was me telling the story of what I want, not what is.
A friend told me she was making a list of things she loved. What a great idea! What better way to feel good than to deliberately think of all the things you love?
Abraham-Hicks say that the vibration of appreciation is one of the most powerfully positive vibrations you can experience. When you’re appreciating, you’re aligned with source, with your nonphysical self, and when you’re aligned, you’re a vibrational match to what you want.
So that’s what I just did; I made a list of things I love and appreciate.
Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:
Tim
Ducky
Muggins
Me
My house
All the trees in my yard
Trees in general
Privacy
Living near the ocean
The constant sound of the ocean
Rain
More rain
Even more rain
Blustery days
Laughing
Winnie the Pooh
Tigger
My memory foam/latex king-sized mattress …. Ahhhhh
My memory foam pillow
Ducky sleeping against me
Watching Ducky sleep
Watching Ducky play
Watching Ducky watch TV (she likes dog shows)
Watching Ducky do pretty much anything … (yes, even peeing)
Walking in the woods
Walking by the ocean
Finding agates
Finding shells
Finding glass floats
The glass floats I’ve already found
The big driftwood logs Muggins once carried that I saved and Tim sanded and sealed and that are in my bedroom reminding me of how wondrous Muggins was and still is (in nonphysical form)
Having my day free to do whatever the heck I want to do
Sweetheart roses
Taking pictures
Taking pictures of dogs
My laptop computer
My ability to type quickly
My ability to read quickly
My ability to think quickly
Being able to walk
The fact that Tim tells me he loves me several times a day
Having a husband who thinks I’m beautiful no matter what
Ducky’s exuberant greetings (when we’ve been apart for 5 minutes)
Petting Ducky
Watching House Hunters International on HGTV
Baking
Going out for dinner
Going out for breakfast
Going out for lunch
Miniature golf
Air hockey
Shooting arcade games
Racing arcade games
Celtic knots
My bedroom furniture
The hutch that Tim built
The mountains
Mount Rainier
Sunsets
Sunrises
Rainbows
Eagles
Mystery novels
Piano music
Listening to Tim sing
Singing with Tim
Watching Tim direct a choir
Long talks with close friends
Coffee with hazelnut cream
Dreaming about Muggins
My 22-year old 4runner, which keeps on truckin’
The Weatherwax, the forest where we walk Ducky
Good water pressure
Gas cook stove
Garbage disposals
My ceiling fan
My washer/dryer
The fact that Tim does laundry
The fact that Tim helps me clean the house
Having the house clean and neat
Clean sheets
Flannel sheets
Fuzzy navels (the drink, not lint in a portion of the anatomy)
Peaches
Raspberries
Crusty French bread
Manicotti
Mexican food
Mu shu chicken
Vegetable egg rolls
Simple gold jewelry
My celtic wedding band
My Muggins necklace (her picture in 24k gold)
Abraham-Hicks
The law of attraction
My peaceful neighborhood
Quiet evenings at home
The movie, Love Actually
The movie, Notting Hill
Interior design
Shopping for décor stuff
Sewing teddy bears
Snow
Having a nice ex-husband
Being married to a very sweet man
Having my hair washed
Thinking about the Waggery
Thinking about traveling in an RV with Tim and Ducky
Being slender (I can vaguely remember what that felt like)
My covered back deck
My small town
Being 1 minute from a grocery store
Being less than that from a beach
Getting a pedicure
Massage chairs
Writing a novel
Finishing a novel
Buying presents for friends and family
Wrapping presents
The yuletide
Decorating for the yule
Opening presents
Holy Clothing (it’s a brand, not something spiritual)
Ebay
Getting unexpected money
Winning
Success
Pancakes on Sunday mornings
Being able to see, hear, smell, feel, and taste
Cobb salad (without the bacon)
Avocados
Artichokes
Picnics
Bev Doolittle art
Strawberry/banana smoothies made with soy milk
Submarine sandwiches (with turkey, cheese and all the fixings, especially with vinegar … but NOT from Subway—they’re okay, but not my fave)
Training Ducky—especially when she GET’S IT!
The Pacific Northwest
The Olympic Mountains
Fort Warden in Port Townsend, WA
Costco
Lazing in a hammock
Hummingbirds
Butterflies
Ladybugs
Fuzzy caterpillars
Chipmunks (especially feeding them)
Feeding apples to the deer across the street from our house
Day trips
I’m making it a goal to continue to think of things to add to this list. How can I be thinking of things I don’t like if I’m scouring my head for things I love?
Ducky turns one year old in a week. Hard to believe. I can still close my eyes and feel that warm little ball of wiggles I held in my arms when we brought her home last October. Tim says he vaguely remembers being able to carry her around. She’s now almost 45 pounds of mostly spring-generated muscle.
I’ve started living from this story instead of the dark one I’ve been telling myself for months. When you live from a story, you look at your experiences from the perspective of this story.
