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Burning Bushes of Gratitude

11/19/2014

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12:15 am

Daughter: Mommyyyy!!!

Me: “If I lay really still, she’ll somehow sense I’m asleep, have mercy on my soul, lay down in her crib, and go back to sleep”

Daughter: “Moooooomyyyyyyy!!!

Me: *sigh* “No mercy for Mommy. Maybe Patrick will get up and go to her?!”

Turning to my partner for support I remember that his depth of sleep can withstand a parking garage full of car alarms during a thunder storm.

Daughter: …Mommyyyyyyyy…MommYYYY…MOMMY, WHERE ARE YOU?!?!”

I shuffle out of bed, into her darkened room and towards her outstretched arms.

Me: “No, Honey. It’s late, go back to sleep.”

Daughter: *moan* “Up, Mommy, uuup!” 

I kiss, lay her down and walk out.


5 shuffles to her room, 4 “You are My Sunshine” encores, 3 drinks of water, 2 meltdowns (her’s or mine, not quite sure), and 1 nonstop, FOUR HOUR marathon later, I was frustrated, exhausted and delirious.  4:45 am, white flag waving, I carried her to our bed where she fell asleep.

Tactics To Tissues

The next night, while scanning Facebook, I mentally prepared for the midnight battle of wills and whines. 

“She’ll cry it out a bit, hit the hay, and we’ll all get sleep!”  

The caption caught my eye: “Father Sings to His Dying Newborn Son.”  Tears streamed as I read how James Picco lost his wife, Ashley, soon after she delivered their son, Lennon, who was born 16-weeks early.  I watched as James sang “Blackbird” to his son just days before Lennon died. 

Later that night…

Autumn woke again.  This time, I rocked her, wept and thought about what such a moment would mean to James, Ashley and Lennon.  As we rocked, I pictured the Picco’s and thought,

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, for this moment, for her tiny body, her breath, her hands clutching my shirt, her warmth, and even her whine, now the most beautiful sound in the world.”

I Am Grateful Today

I read the beautiful words of thankfulness, blessings, and joy, James wrote to his Facebook friends; words expressing the love, honor and privilege he experienced while getting to know his precious gift… his son.

Then the following insights flooded my mind:

● There is ALWAYS something for which I can be grateful.  I truly believe I am loved by the Divine and anything that happens to me is for my highest good.  Even as the winds seem to assault my very essence, this wisdom allows me to authentically say, "thank you," in the midst of the storm.   

● When I am able to remember that wisdom flows through even my  most difficult  experiences, my body and mind are able to find stillness. Through this stillness I can focus my mid on thoughts which allow compassion, peace and gratefulness to fill my heart.  It is from this place that the gift of wisdom eventually fills my mind.

● It is not possible for both difficult emotions like envy and divine emotions like compassion to drive my thoughts at the same time. When one is present, the other must sit in the backseat. Which emotion occupies my drivers seat at any point in time is completely up to me.

● Gratefulness is a place where pain can be transformed into peace.   When difficult emotions get the best of me, I can enter the hall of gratefulness and with each courageous step watch the difficult emotions transform into blessings.

● During those dark hours when I cannot find the hallway of gratefulness, I can set the mood with music, state the intention, “I am grateful today” and wait for my body and mind to catch up to the claims of my Spirit.  

I Would Love The Company!

What would change if we took time each day to “peace, be still” the busy parts of ourselves, align them with the Divine and express gratitude in the moment? 

Someone once said, “The bush was burning the whole time, Moses was the only one going slow enough to see it.” I see the bush as the many blessings with which we are gifted every moment of every day. In memory of Lennon and Ashley, I plan to keep a gratitude journal for at least one month.  Each day I will slow down and see the multitude of burning bushes in my life.  

Will you join me?


Copyright © My Forgotten Self Blog, 2014. All rights reserved.

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Paths to Purpose

11/6/2014

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“You are purposed to speak about spiritual concepts in a way that allows people to understand them on a deeper level… though you will ultimately reach this goal, your path will be longer because you are held back by your fears.”   This was shared with me by a stranger approximately eight years ago.   Ironically, the very fears he named limited my ability to even consider the unfamiliar path of which he spoke.       

Pre-Approval Required
In life, I have traveled along pre-approved paths:

  • Head up Education Parkway (An expensive toll road; don't linger and don't get lost.)
  • Make a right on Marriage Avenue (The first mile is a doozey, but mostly rolling hills and a few sharp turns after that.)
  • Take that down to Career Highway (You'll be on that for a while.)
  • Then exit onto Babies Boulevard (New construction; travel with care, it gets bumpy at times.)

I love and honor these paths.  They’ve brought me joy and helped form who I am.  With that said, they are relatively safe.  They were pre-approved by my family; opportunities and privileges made them available; and maps have been drawn and followed by those before me.  Sure, I saw potential detours along the way (e.g. Seminary Street; Travel Abroad Trail), but the sweet lull of safety and predictability kept me moving forward. 

Tour Guides and Tea
In recent years, the pre-approved paths have given way to unfamiliar terrain.  Last month, I was led to fly to Houston, Texas to visit friends and attend “Oprah’s The Life You Want Weekend Tour.”   All attendees were asked to list visions for “the life [we] truly want.”  What follows is the vision that broke forth:
                                                                            
I have no map or guide, only a light within me that ironically I can see clearest when I slow my pace, close my eyes and focus inward versus ahead.   With my eyes closed, I awaken to the life I truly want.  In my vision, I see the divinely inspired book, My Forgotten Self, published (and many others to follow).  I see myself fully awakened to the Divine Essence within us all. I see hundreds
-- no, thousands of people before me listening not to me but to that which pours through me. I can actually see Christ’s light emanating from everyone.  I speak to people, helping them to see who God created them to be—the Spiritual Self that has been forgotten.  I see people awakening to this Self, seeing It in themselves and everyone around them.  I see myself engaging my children, my husband, my friends, not with fatigue in my eyes, but filled with light and laughter; fully able to enjoy their presence because I am fully present. 

I asked Spirit to order my steps towards this reality and the vision I received was of a cup not filled with more, but less! It was filled with my family, friends, writing, self-care (food, exercise), meditation, laughter, intention, surrender, energy, openness, gratefulness and of course, tea.  That’s it? WOW!  This weekend, Oprah and the Trailblazers helped me to realize that there are other paths; paths not yet cleared or approved that I can travel. 


After the conference as I sat in my hotel room I came to an awareness that parts of me were excited to jump on these paths to my purpose but needed my permission.  The next morning, I awakened with their permission slip signed!  I am traveling off-road!  I am ready to awaken those parts of myself minimized and held down by fear, unworthiness, busyness, distraction and inaction. I am ready to “awaken to the life I TRULY want!”  Are you?

What is your vision?
Down what path is God leading you? What fears are posing as roadblocks? Comment below; in a journal; or with others.  However you choose to do it, state your vision loud and clear. Dig deep!  Explore your passions, desires, and skills.  Above all, set the intention, hold the vision and trust the process.


Copyright © My Forgotten Self Blog, 2014. All rights reserved.

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Book Journey 4: Divine Doors

10/20/2014

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They say God opens doors.  Through those doors dwell persons and experiences that assist with our growth, progress, and recognition of our Spiritual selves.  Words, actions, intentions and emotional energy play into and support this process.  A process through which we are gifted with mighty tools, invaluable lessons, and loyal companions.  

Door to Direction
Following the powerful group experience, I nervously shared My Forgotten Self with friends, like Ursula, a New Thought minister. It elicited the familiar silence and then, “You really need to publish this!” She continued in an equally serious tone, “Such a deep and universally relatable story.”  “Universal?” Another seed planted.  Sensing my hesitation, she suggested I share it with people who “know writing” and could give me feedback: “Go to this writing group!” she directed.  

Door to Guidance
In walked Warren  Smith, a youthful-looking, shiny-headed, white male with kind eyes. He introduced himself and began teaching story elements—plot, conflict, character. . .  I tried to keep up with the words and corresponding white-board sketches.  Following this brief, intense lesson, Warren read his own piece.  Other readers followed, everyone giving and receiving compassionate feedback from Warren and the group.  

I nervously read My Forgotten Self and met the tell-tale silence.  Finally, the first comment:

“When are you going to publish that so I can buy copies for myself and my granddaughter?"  

“Granddaughter?” There it was again--a children’s book?!

Others chimed in with compliments. Warren suggested ways to improve the tale.  Before leaving I took his card.  

Our first meeting:

Warren: “we as writers…”  

Me: “I’m sorry, who’s we?”

Warren: “You and me.”

Me: *laughing* “Oh no, I’m not a writer.”

*25 minutes of encouragement, redefinition and debate later*

Me: “…so, what you’re saying is, I’m a writer?”  

After that intervention, Warren became my writing coach and much more: editor, networker, agent, and therapist.  I playfully dubbed him, “Tiev’s Godfather.” He’s thankfully held my hand from the beginning. I now confidently call myself a WRITER!

Door to Manifestation
Warren's First assignment: write down ideas describing the book's illustrations.

Warren's Second assignment: find someone bold (or crazy) enough to transform my ramblings into meaningful pictures.  Oy! I pitied the fool!  

Warren suggested illustrators.  I finally met Michele Phillips and instantly liked her!  Her easy going style, sense of humor and open mind attracted me.  After her first drawing, it was confirmed: Fool? Not on your life! Insightful and brilliant? Absolutely!  She connected my descriptive ramblings to the visual world, and built upon them magically.  There they were; my thoughts manifest!

My reaction to first seeing Tiev was reminiscent of the way I felt when I first looked at my children’s faces after birthing them—wonderment, excitement, mystical.   

Theeeen...nothing...screeching halt…life kicked in and My Forgotten Self was, for all intents and purposes, forgotten; collecting megabyte dust on my hard drive.

Door to Divine Harassment 
Fast forward, four very full years later; I was re-visited by the same Divine Friend who gifted me with Tiev's once-upon-a-time tale.  My Forgotten Self was now bombarding my mind! Once a month became once a week became once a day until I literally shouted, "OKAY! I'LL PUBLISH IT!"

The second start was slow, like pressing the big red button on an old conveyor belt in an abandoned factory: contacting Warren and Michele, reminding everyone about the book and illustrations; outlining timelines and agendas; contacting publishers, etc.

Ah, now you’re all caught up! Illustration is taking place. My “team”—Michele, Warren and the Holy Spirit (and countless others in support)— are graciously supporting this process. 

As doors continue to swing, I would be honored to continue sharing the gifts and lessons I pick up along the way. Stay tuned!

​Related Post: Paths to Purpose


Copyright © My Forgotten Self Blog, 2014. All rights reserved

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Book Journey 3: Not Of Me But Through Me

10/6/2014

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Broadway! Okay, not quite...
The group exercise was not over. The facilitators asked us to choose one story to turn into a play. Almost in unison, the entire group turned to me. I was honored but at the same time detached; my mind was still reeling in disbelief and doubt. We had one hour to put together a "play." We made props, designed scenes and chose music.

It was show time!

Act 1: Dreams and Wishes
I played Tiev. I leapt with excitement and joy, depicting her passion-flooded mind, overflowing with endless possibilities. I was elated- and winded- as I jumped through the air.

Act 2: Doubts and Weights
My fellow group members lined up to play Tiev's family members. As I stood before each of them presenting her dreams, they literally handed me weights representing doubt and fear. By the end, I was heavy; her fiery passion doused with confusion and anger.

Act 3: Divine Union and Worth

My group members were re-cast. I held hands with the gentleman now playing I Am. We whisked by each group member, whose orientations and actions depicted truths about Tiev and her purpose. In the end, we jumped through a hoop representing Tiev's transformation, invaluable purpose and worth in the eyes of I Am. I felt renewed, hopeful, and impassioned. She had come full circle and I was leaping again. The joy and excitement had returned; her literal weights were cast aside, clanging as they fell to the ground. Promising to never leave her, I Am was by my side jumping higher and with more excitement than I could muster.

A Real Gift
Before we parted for the day, the gentleman who played, I Am, approached me. "Thank you for writing and sharing that story. I want to be that for my daughter. I want to encourage and not discourage her," he said looking shyly to the ground. Then he lifted his eyes to mine and added, "You have a real gift!"


In that very moment, his words knocked down the walls of detachment, disbelief, and anxiety that were blocking me from a profound but simple insight. I met his gaze again and spoke the words, "Yes! Not of me but though me."

Spirit had gifted me with Tiev's tale. I was right, "I could never write" such a story in and of myself. Another seed firmly planted. Now, what to do with it? God had others lined up and waiting to help me discern the answer to this very question.

​READ Book Journey Part 4: Divine Doors


Copyright © My Forgotten Self Blog, 2014. All rights reserved

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Book Journey 2: When God Smiles (aka Once Upon A Time)

9/17/2014

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“Mommy, can you read me this story?” My toddler asked as he dragged his new book across the room.

“Sure!” I exclaimed, hoisting him onto my lap.

As I read, I stopped and thought, “children’s books…humph…they are so complicatedly simple.  I could NEVER write one of these!”

I know now that at that moment, God was smiling broadly. My ground was tilled and ready to receive another seed, and this seed would burst through into my very being.

2 Weeks Later…

“The only rule is that the story must begin with the words, ‘once upon a time,’” announced the facilitator from ArtReach (a group therapy training program which used creative arts to help soldiers heal from combat trauma).    

I wrote the words at the top of my notebook paper -- once, upon, a, time. 

After that, everything shifted. The words began to pour out of me.  At one point, I uttered, “Slow down! I can’t write that fast!” I had to write one and two word notes in the margins to remember what to write two sentences from then. 

The next and more profound realization was that many of the lines were the very words and phrases that seemed to "glow" before me as I read the Bible.  

Returns the Ghost of Story-Time Past

The exercise ended and we group members were invited to read our stories.  I was still wrestling with the notion of "my story" given how it was conceived and felt nervous to read; however, I read the lines and listened for the groups response.

“This you cannot be!” I heard them chuckle.

“You can and must be all of these things.” They gasped.

“Do not let others define what they did not create.” Their astonishment turned to moans of recognition.

I finished; they were so quiet.  Eventually, the man to my left spoke, "Wow! You wrote that in twenty minutes?!” 

“More like transcribed!” I thought.

The woman in front of me said, “I needed to hear that. It’s like you wrote that for me.”  

The facilitator chimed in, “It reads like a really deep children’s book.”  

“Children’s book?!” I chuckled as my mind flew back to holding my son and reading his new book while uttering the words, “I could never write one of these.”  

God's smile was clear; the seeds' contents had blossomed within me.  Little did I know, the last profound message of that day had yet to arrive; its carrier, one of my fellow group members.

​READ Book Journey Part 3: Not of Me but Through Me


Copyright © My Forgotten Self Blog, 2014. All rights reserved
 



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Book Journey 1: A Dirty Dishrag Like Me

9/2/2014

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“Relative to God, we are like dirty dishrags!” The words from the Baptist pastor hit my ears like the shattering of fine crystal, and were followed by words like, “unworthy,” “less than,” and “dark.”


Leaving the sanctuary, instead of floating out with a renewed sense of faith and passion, I was dragging under the heavy weight of difficult emotions; outrage, confusion and even shame, simmering within me.  I wondered, “Does God share this respected man’s perspective? If so, why would God spend any time with us humans? With me, especially?  I mean, if the average person is a ‘dirty dishrag…’” I pondered as I cycled through the sins of my life, “how could a God that supposedly loved me—supposedly, unconditionally loved me— possibly share this perspective? 

“NO!,” yelled the Outraged part of myself in deep protest. “He is WRONG!

“But,” whispered the Shame toting part of me.  “What if you are just hanging onto wishful thinking?  What if in the eyes of God, we are only fit for...dirty dishes?”


READ WHAT BY WHEN?!?!

“The entire Bible, in six months…let’s do it!” I found myself typing these words to my Facebook friends.  For years prior, I felt a deep conviction to “Big K-Know” the Bible. However; for years, my reaction to this task had been one of dread.  From my perspective the Bible had all the trappings of a book that I was least likely to finish: it is reeeally thick; has small words, and thin, I mean, tissue paper thin, pages.  Also, one college degree and two graduate degrees taught me well how to read for the gist vs the depth.  I feared pooping out within the first week and having to drag myself across the finish line… if I finished at all! 

Finally, like Jonah in the whale, I gave up and decided to extend the “Bible Challenge” invitation to my Facebook friends.  One actually took the bait.  In the end, we developed a group and attracted over 100 people.


DISHRAG BE DAMNED!

Despite my anxiety, once I set the intention and had “friends” backing me, something happened; I began to feel an enduring joy related to the task.  Every night, I retreated to my bedroom and read the scheduled lesson.  And each night I felt a renewed sense of wonder and excitement.  Stories and Bible verses seemed to leap off the page, deep insights seemed to glow before me and mental images seemed to further deepen and enliven my experience. 

For the first time, I understood what people meant when they called the Bible the "living word."  Indeed, this book was now bursting at the seams with life!  I couldn't write my insights and questions down fast enough; insights about wisdom, humility, stillness and meditation, compassion, "fear" of God, God within us…wait, what?

God within us?

There it was plain as day, Luke 17:20-21, “The kingdom of God is within you.” 

My Shame based part was up for the debate: “But dirty, unworthy, dark dishrags!”

“You are a little less than the angels” (Psalm 8:5).

“But dirty, unworthy, dark. . .”

“You are fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14).

“But dirty, unworthy--”

“You are Treasures” (2 Corinthians 4:7).

“But dirty--”

“You are the image of God” (Genesis 1:27)


“But--”

“You are of God!” (1 John 4:4). 


IT’S ALL COMING BACK TO ME NOW.

I did not know it at the time, but these words, these sources of balm for my soul, were only the beginning…only the initial seeds of grace that would ultimately lead to my shedding of shame and the “dirty dishrag” theory; seeds that once planted, would gift me with the recognition and reclaiming of My Forgotten Self.

READ Book Journey Part 2: When God Smiles


© My Forgotten Self Blog, 2014. All rights reserved

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    My intention in writing this blog is to inspire you to fully embrace your youryydivine worth; fearlessly live your yosoul's purpose; and faithfully encourage others to do the same.

    I truly hope you enjoy your time here!

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