Let it Snow and other melodies

What. a. day.

Today marked Vancouver's first snowfall of winter 2005. I couldn't find my snow-brush-thingy so I scooped big, wet mounds of snow off my windshield this morning with my bare hands. Traffic crept along and Vancity was blanketed and slow.

Then I entered my new office. I sat at my new cubicle and at my new desk and attended my first department meeting. At first I was terrified. Then slowly, a feeling of numb settled over me, big and wet, like the snow. I know that I need this job for the money. Needing sucks. But I feel like my need to be responsible and generating is greater than my need to feel joy and passion. Can the two exist together. Yes. Will they exist together in this particular job? Hmm. I dunno. I suppose anything is possible.

The coolest part was when Harv Eker walked into the office. I am told that he has not entered that office is a very long time and there he was, today, on my first day of work, standing in front of me. He teased me a little after he found out I was new and then kept on. But I watched him. I watched him and I watched everyone's reaction to him and I observed his energy. And you know what I saw? I saw a person who totally and utterly believes in himself. I saw a man who walked around bathed in an energy that pulsated I AM WORTH IT. He was obviously rich and healthy and confident and happy and respected and respectful and full of power. But I also saw him observe us...his workers...and I imagined that I saw him look at us and sadly shake his head and think 'they just haven't figured it out yet. they haven't quite figured out that they, too, are so very worth it. they are magnificent potentials working in cubicles because that is where they stlll need to be to feel safe. ah, if only i could teach them to believe in themselves. hm, interesting...'

This man was being all the stuff I blog about...and a penny sort of dropped for me. I knew very much that I was sitting at my cubicle because I am not yet brave enough. I have not yet claimed my North Star. I am Finding a Me that never went anywhere. I am not ready to receive and accept that I am as totally magnificient as Harv. As any great master. I am seeing this without beating myself up about it too too much. It is okay to be where I am. I am growing in my search and I feel closer every day to being clear and ready to claim my riches. I know that I was never supposed to work in a cubicle for a bi-weekly paycheck sweating to make someone else more money. I also know that I bless this opportunity to make some money to fill up my bank accounts and pay my debts .... and maybe even learn a few things like i did today.

That was my first day. Tomorrow I try to conquer my new PC laptop and learn about ticketing. Carolyn leaves for Austin and Jennie for Toronto and my to-do list is still needing to be tackled. I must keep loving me. I love me. I. love. me.

I love you, too.

Communication Arts

I wish the world knew how to communicate effectively.

Take listening. Why do people suck at it so terribly?

It isn't so hard. Make eye contact. The entire time. Do not look around. Do not glance at clocks. Do not allow yourself to get distracted by outside stuff. Allow yourself to really hear what this person is saying. Nod your head when you hear something that resonates. Verbally affirm what they are saying by responding "hmmm, yes. i hear ya..." or something of that nature. THEN ask questions that further demonstrate your interest in what the person is saying. Ask questions. Validate the person's expression, their story. This is the art of conversation. This is the art of listening. It is a dwindling art. Arg.

Just needed to vent that...there. Done. Now, what else?

My weekend in Portland/Seattle was wonderful and exhausting. An American Thanksgiving with my In-Laws. Enough said. Jo and I celebrated our first anniversary up the Space Needle in Seattle and I kinda fell for the city. It was a memorable night. With this new job starting I fear that Jo and I will have less and less time to just be together and in love. What happens if life becomes work work work while stuffing all the little chores and daily life things into the cracks? Not much time for just making love or watching the O.C. or designing together. This makes me sad....BUUUUUUUUUT...I will give this feeling enough room to feel itself into letting go. No need to manifest it before it has even happened.

Ya, I am secretly terrified about tomorrow. Or at least I am having very scared moments followed by very brave moments followed by moments that just feel overwhelmingly numb. Makes me wanna eat.

I will let you know how it goes. Had another interview today for a teaching job, teaching Communication Arts ... thus, my inspired blog. It was a tempting situation and I will keep it in my back pocket. Options are always good.

Options are always good.

One Year Anniversary

Inspired by Jordan Hart Good Lewin:

I stare at my computer screen and I am not quite sure how I am supposed to sum up how I feel, a year later, about the greatest man that has ever entered my life.

I could tell you about how he has changed me. I eat healthier, I have a worm compost out on my deck, I dream of creating a greenpages.ca for environmentally conscious consumers, I am able to be quiet for longer periods of time, I have a new found warmth for Americans, I now know what NPR stands for, I have quinoa in my cupboards, I secretly spend time now in Babies R Us, I can use an <a> tag properly and I know that there is nothing comic about Comic Sans.

I could tell you about how much we have in common. Just like me, he pays his bills every month, on time, no questions asked. He notices when the house is messy and helps to clean it up. Just like me, he will take time to sit and meditate when life gets hectic. He consciously accepts responsibility for what is turning up in his life and, just like me, when he is in the mood to talk, expresses himself beautifully. Just like me, he is an overachiever who got high grades and never broke too many rules. Just like me, he loves to read and write and make music and watch The OC. Just like me, he likes to always be warm.

I could tell you about how I feel when I am around him. How, even after a year, I still catch my breath when he gets all buck naked and turns toward the closet to find clothes to wear. How I have found myself crying from such simple moments as staring at his navy hoodie. How, even after a year, my heart leaps when his iChat talks to him and I am transplanted back to his futon at Heather Island and all those sleepless nights. How the thought of coming home and finding him gone would empty me completely. How, after all this time, I can't remember when I didn't love him and know there will never be a time when I will cease loving him with my entire being.

I could tell you what makes him a fantastic partner. I could tell you how he is one of those rare men who is able to talk about his intimate feelings, fears, dreams. Or how he can read my energy from a mile away and always knows exactly how to gently draw me back from the dark places I can go. I could tell you that he is a tender, perfect lover - shy and sweet, strong and real. I could tell you how he has supported me through months of unemployment, from helping with groceries to always believing that I was magnificent. Sheesh, I could show you my website, probably worth over $5000 that he built with me, for me, just to fulfill a birthday wish. I could describe the way he snuggles in as tight as he can every single night that we get into our bed and grins up at me with this content, puppydog grin. I could tell you that what makes him a fantastic partner is that he always tells me he loves me. Always. Always.

I could tell you what a good person he is. How he listens to people and never talks over them, how he cares deeply that nobody in a situation get hurt, how affectionate he is with his mom and dad and brother. I could tell you how sad he gets when he talks about what us humans are doing to our planet earth. Or how he has been voluntarily teaching me everything he knows about Design. I could tell you about the project he just completed for his Spiritual Center - pro bono - and how he just doesn't have it in him to quit something if he has given his word. I could tell you about how honest he is, above all else, and how much he lives from a place of integrity. I could tell you about how he saves each paper napkin that doesn't get used and rides a bike in the rainiest city in Canada because he wants to lead by example.

I could try with words to sum it up. I could try. But I would fail. My love for this man has an intensity so deep that it would light a hundred countries if it could be channelled. I adore him, I trust him, I choose him. I am humbled to call him my partner. I am in awe that we have a future to spend laughing and yelling and making love. We are beyond words. So I shall not try. Not this time. This time I will simply say that...

I am the luckiest.

Bye Bye!

Off to Portland ... won't see much of me on this blog for about 5 days ...

Off to be thankful.

Off to spend some down time with Jordan.

Off with no laptop.

Off to celebrate that my relationship turns One Year Old.

Off to visit the Centre for Spiritual Living in Seattle.

Off to contemplate my newest bit of news...

i got offerred a job today.

Maybe not a dream position, but definitly a dream company.

Peak Potentials has offerred me good money with lots of perks to coordinate their Millionaire Mind Seminars.

Read a book, took a chance, got a job.

I want this to support my bigger dreams.

Jo Design.

Happy. Excited. Scared. Curious.

So I am off.

Be well. Submit your thoughts on being the opposite sex at Konkin Questions. Dream big.

And so it is.

Jo Design Online

Am very proud of myself. Last night I pretty much entirely by myself created a little placeholder website for Jo Design's new domain:

www.jodesign.biz

I used Fireworks for the first time to create the image and exported it into Dreamweaver and sorta figured out the server stuff (ok, jo helped a little with that) and layed it all out and made our two links link...woohoo! Am very proud. Check it out.

I was wondering about a tag line and Jordan, totally kidding, mumbled 'we design stuff'. I fell in love. It is so nebulous, which is kinda apropos for where Jo Design is at these days. Plus, it is irreverent and funny and very us. Websites R Fun!

Interview this morning with BC Home Builders. The position sounds purrrrr-fect for me, as it is an evolving role full of marketing and admin and coordination of events and writing and design. Very intrigued. Have my 2nd interview with Paul at Peak Potentials tomorrow before heading to Portland and am very happy to get to go back...even if it is to chat with Paul who seems to be a very enjoyable person. Plus, I got a call this morning for an interview with an Academy that I applied for in, I think, MAY. It was to teach Public Speaking which I think would be so rewarding. Sheesh, most of the time, when I hear people public speak or just speak in general, I long to help. Generally, people are not masters of communication, public or otherwise. As for me, articulation has never been a struggle for me. Ever. LOL. I suppose we can see that from my site. Funny enough, the person interviewing me at this academy also wants to talk about how I might be utilized also in their promotion/marketing department.

Marketing, sales, promotions, communications, design. Yes, Universe, I am getting it.

Congrats to Miss Grado for being Vancouver's newest condo owner. Glad that I could be of help. Glad that this means I will be getting my referral fee!

Another much needed task was completed today as I turned into a holiday Martha Stewart sans jail time. I have created an adorable door decoration, redecorated the patio with a stunning center display and added some pine boughs to the rest of my existing decor. A little bit of Christmas spirit goes a looooong way. Now my hands are covered in bark sap and my heart is crooning with Bing. Tomorrow I leave for a holiday and on Sunday I celebrate my One Year Anniversary.

Life is good.

Think it's time for a nap.

Poor Venus and Mars

Well. My cousin Leanne has finally left her husband. So, that is officially the 5th divorce of marriages that lasted under 5 years of close friends of mine. Why are relationships so hard? I could tell you all about the other 14 relationships that I know of, including mine, that struggle. Still, I also know of 4 or 5 more couples getting married. It is like all the failures will not sway us from trying. If marriage was a stock, no investor would invest, but here are couple after couple taking their own swing at it. Obviously, a good marriage is a treasure worth hunting for...like the Gold Rush up in Dawson. All these people risking their lives and terrible odds wanting their chance to see if THEY just might be lucky one to find that elusive nugget. Man.

Life feels busy. As Christmas approaches this is always the case. I want to redecorate my patio with a little Christmas tree and pretty candles. I want to make a wreath for the door. I want to make some income. I need to clean house before we leave for Portland this Wednesday. Design projects and homework are due and piling up and I simply can't get ahold of Rob Daly to organize Cynthia's photoshoot OR find time to meditate. I desire days filled with cinnamon and crafts and carols and NO WORRIES. Wonder if I could manifest that? Maybe after we get back from Portland.

I hope this trip will give Jo and I some time for intimacy. Silly how you can live with someone and just kinda do parallel things along side each other. Makes events like spontaneous sex difficult. Been hard lately, seeing that how he wants to spend his time is different than how I want to spend my time. Not quite sure how a couple honours this and still feels like a couple.

Ah, my phone is ringing off the hook. Must go and do do do.
Rushed blogging.
Lovely.

Service

What does service mean to you?
How does one serve without having their energy sucked from them eventually?
Are we supposed to be able to serve without ever needing to be acknowledged?
What is it about me that I have never been one to put alot of effort into serving stuff that doesn't directly affect me?
Where does the cynicism come from that says that people just want you to 'serve' so that they can get the best out of you and not have to pay you what you are worth?

I know, I know...this is the blog, not the "Konkin Question" page. But I really would love to have this dialogue with somebody. Somewhere. Out there. Please? It's lonely in here.

Speaking of Service, Caitlin recently gave me back a borrowed copy of Robert Service's poetry. I will share with you one of my favorite poems of his...well, one of my favorite SHORTER poems of his....Again, I see that this should probably be a "Find", but let's overlap departments today, shall we?

The Quitter

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now, that's a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know -- but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit:
It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.

It's easy to cry that you're beaten -- and die;
It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight --
Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try -- it's dead easy to die,
It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.

I love Mr. Service and his Yukon connection and his message to me on a day when It feels sorta like all this 'trying' is getting me nowhere. CSL let me know they aren't going to hire me. One job down. Could open Jo Design and work for myself, but without Jo's willing participation, the idea is drained of inspiration. Part of me wants to let this drag me under....another part of me is whispering "it's dead easy to die" and draws on my grit and concentrates on all the Potential jobs and paths and doors open that I can walk through.

Hell-served-for-breakfast, but I'm eating eggs.

Funny Feeling

Ever notice how even though many of us do much of our communicating over email or instant chats we can still FEEL distinctly what someone on the other end is feeling? How cool is it that we can get a feeling tone from a typed sentence written by someone miles and miles away? I can feel if someone is being sarcastic or melancholy or excited in the phrase "what a day". I can even intuit if the person I am cyber chatting with is multi-tasking while they talk to me.

I love the information age and the internet. I love communicating via email and iChat and Messenger. I think people are more willing to be more honest becuase they don't have to face the reactions of other people. I also see how these same wonderful inventions are inhibiting us from recognizing and practising intimacy. But looking at the positive, I adore the written word for day to day interactions. My interpretation of the words I read help me learn possibly more about myself than the authour. I even love having fights on Messenger. I mean, I hate fighting, period, but If I have to, Messenger rocks. They say something rude and you can click the screen off while you take a chance to breathe and process and consider what you want to say back. It takes the reactionary time down. You can also vent by typing some seething, cuttingly, brilliantly insulting insult and never send it. This way you get to process your immediate feelings AND access a deeper wisdom and forgiving soul to edit your response.

Even blogs. How great are they? Giving people a platform to voice their opinions, dreams, goals, peeves. It is such an amazing gift. And you the reader, you can sit here and keep reading this or click the window shut. Brilliant. Love it.

(Brrrrrrr. It is cold in here.)

Update on me finding me. Went to an entrepreneur info session this a.m. I loved it. I know that I will run my own business someday. Have dreams of Jo Design. Wish I could just start it and know that I wouldn't have to depend of Jordan's eager participation. I could hire someone else? I could wait until I have all the skills myself to do it? Ya, It seems like timing. Hate waiting, though. Always have.

Right now, I am off to help Jen find a condo. Me and Real Estate can't seem to get enough of each other. This will be cool, though. My first wanderings into actual showings and watching Katie (agent) at work and soaking it all in as I 'try on the coat'. Not to mention making a sweet little Referral Fee.

At least I can say I feel closer than I did in July. Or even September. Interviews for jobs, possibly starting my own company, finishing up my Real Estate lisence. It is all good. Nearly there. Try on the coats. Be open to something fitting.

Live the life of my dreams.

A Piece of Wisdom

I just had a really positive interview with Peak Potentials. I even enjoyed the part where I got lost getting there, because I was in North Vancouver and ended up driving through some really inspiringly beautiful homes. Feeling good afterwards I was driving over the Lion's Gate bridge and I thought about something I recently read.

Detachment involves not hanging on. Yes? Yes. But this wise person's words reminded me that detachment is about practising releasing IT ALL...not just the sucky stuff. Which means, when something wonderful happens to you, allow yourself to feel it and then release it, too. I find this fascinating. An Oprah Ah-ha moment. To become detached in that peaceful way that allows you to watch your life events unfold instead of allowing them to determine Who You Are...you must understand that the good stuff is as much not Who You Are and the crappy stuff. A great interview doesn't make me successful, nor does a poor interview. Getting the job doesn't make me worthy, nor does not getting the job. Being in love doesn't make you loveable, nor does spending Saturday nights with your only your cat and an Adam Sandler movie. Being successful and loveable and worthy are just what you are. 3rd to 1st person - they are just what I AM. I am not my circumstances. They are a movie that I am directing and If I don't like what I am seeing on the screen I can edit or recast or fire my DP. But that movie is not Me. I am that I am and what I am will never be compromised by circumstance.

So....I breathed in the good interview and let it go. What will happen will happen. They will offer it to me or they won't. I will accept or I won't. Perhaps I am supposed to work for CSL instead or focus on my own work or maybe it is all true and false at the same time. Releasing. Detaching. Big concepts for a controller like myself. Ah, life is good.

Off to my next interview. Raining again today in Vancouver. Like Jo always says - gray means green.

Will leave you with two words that changed my life.

Applause Dies.

...and in the resulting silence what do you hear?

Exactly.

Nothing to Wear

I just saw video footage of myself singing at the Fall to Joy concert.

Ug.

Ever notice how hard it is to be thrilled at watching yourself on video? Listening to the sound of your own voice - especially singing? What is it in me, in most of us, that just cringes when we watch ourselves? When I see myself, what I mostly see is the wildly crooked teeth, the absense of ankles, the pear shaped figure and, in this case, the bad hair. I notice how my mouth does a wierd crooked thing when I pronounce my words, how jerky I am when I gesture during performance and how huge still the difference between my chest and head voice. I see flaws. I see all the ways I have not grown. I see myself and I am truly humbled. If anything is good at smashing down an over inflated ego, it is watching oneself on video.

So I blog this right now...after having had a great weekend and a super day, with a third CSL interview in process and a first interview that I manifested out of thin air with Peak Potentials, with fun design projects on the go and everything to feel positive about...and I am disappointed in myself. Suddenly, as I type this, I am aware of how much I need a new wardrobe, to go back on my diet, better hair, dresses that cover my ankles, singing lessons and braces.

Self-hating and self-pitying, I then think about young girls all over the world who have nothing, are enslaved, prostituted, beaten and alone. If my worst worries are my thick ankles, I am lucky.

I will bless my flaws and hope this shakes them from my head. Beyond that, I can either gripe and whine about the above listed issues or I can DO something about making the necessary changes to bring about the desired goal.

Hope I can find a good dentist.

My Spiritual Biography

My mother's pregnancy with me was unexpected to say the least. Living with an abusive alcoholic, working full time and raising a 9 year old son with a Mensa IQ, getting pregnant was not on my mother's list of things to do. Knowing this, I could have believed that I was an accident. But when my mother sat in that abortion clinic 29 years ago and listened to a voice that prompted her to change her mind, the Universe was reminding me - a tiny fetus - that I was on purpose. Unborn, my first spiritual lesson was upon me - there are no accidents. And so began my life.

My mother was one of eleven children. I was raised in a family of 10 aunts and uncles who were, for the most part, fiercely intelligent, highly vocal and proclaimed atheists. From my first memories I was being introduced to principles such as "All the answers you need are inside you - you don't need to ask other people what is right or wrong" or "You don't live your life to get into heaven or avoid hell. They don't exist. You live your life right Now". Little did they know they were creating a future metaphysician.

They were also challenging my youthful wonderings about God. My Uncle Peter took me aside one Christmas and asked "Can God do anything?" I answered yes, of course. He then asked, "So can He make a rock that is unmovable?" I answered yes, of course. He then asked, "So can He move that rock?" Stammering now, I answered yes, of course. "Then," my Uncle concluded, "It follows that it is not true that God can do anything." Off he went to eat more butter tarts leaving a bewildered and confused eight year old in his path.

I spent the next 17 years in spiritual confusion. I wasn't sure what to believe. I watched my born again Christian friends. I resonated with the music and the community, but balked at their teachings. At Youth Group when they told those teens who wanted to be saved to stand, I would inevitably be the only person who would remain seated. Somehow I knew there was nothing to be saved from. Youth Group pastors would marvel at my passion when I sang their music and proclaim that Jesus was calling me home, but I resisted. Somehow it didn't fit.

I watched my atheist family. I resonated with their smarts and success, but witnessed often their unhappiness and disconnection. My mother tells me that as a little girl I called family holidays "holler-days" because my family together meant that everyone spent their time trying to speak the loudest and convince the rest that their way was the right way. That certainly did not feel right to me, either. I was surrounded my evangelists from two extremes and started to believe that I was destined to live in a spiritual no man's land.

Theatre became my religion. I know now that the high that sustains many performers is the sense of connection to something bigger when singing,dancing or acting. I became addicted to Theatre as it was the only place I could access that high. But when theatre started becoming more about agents and contracts and competition and masks so slick even I forgot who I was, I hit a wall. Lost and confused at 27, I picked up a book called Conversations with God.

That book changed my life. That book led to Friendship with God where I heard about Terry Cole Whittaker and New Thought. I researched on the internet, buzzing the way one does when they know they are close to finding a long, lost treasure. Eventually, I stumbled across the Centre for Conscious Living in Toronto, my home at the time. My ego voice screaming at the top of its lungs, I attended a Sunday service. I will never forget that Sunday. In the dark, deep seats of the Bloor Street Cinema with this radiantly happy woman finally saying out loud all the things I had felt were right for so long, I wept. As cliche as it might be, I had come home. I knew it. It all made sense.

It might have even been in that first Sunday that I decided that this is what I wanted to do with my life. To reach the world with this message and give hope to all the people silently, instinctively courting a Friendship with God, with Life, with It All, but thinking they are alone in their thinking and, perhaps, even slightly crazy.

I now live my life consciously. My problems haven't all gone away, but now I get that I have the power to choose differently and co-create my existence exactly as I want it to be. I am kinder, softer, quieter when I need to be and more accepting of the Big Krista when it is her turn to shine. I am Finding Me.

And so it is.

My Ukranian Nurse

Darryl Schreiner.

How do I describe Darryl? Many of you that follow my blog closely will know Darryl as the one that leaves very long comments on my posts. I also have his blog linked under Scrumptious Websites. He is one of my oldest friends and a true phenomenon. Half of him is this true Saskatchewan guy-guy - his drunks, his humour, his take on homosexuality. The other half of him is this Sensitive new age girl-guy - his ability to articulate his feelings, his career as a nurse, his empathy. Most of all, he makes me laugh. Case in point...




Darryl, the great catch. This man wants marriage and babies. And he is single. Anyone interested and I will hook ya up...
here he is lovin' up his much cherished niece...



And just to finish off this photo extravaganza, here is a pic of some of the high school gang (note me in the bright yellow sweater and Elton John sunglasses--egads) and a self-portrait of myself in Grade 12. I drew it for Darryl when I had run out of school pictures to give him. I can't believe he has kept it all these years. Now you know why I love him so much!




My wonderful, wonderful friend. Thank you for your friendship! May good things come to you and may you always be part of my life.


To find out more about Darryl visit his blog at www.darrylfocker.blogspot.com.

Phew! I am back.

Sorry about that recent dip into the dark side. I am back now.

The little monkey magnet that I have stuck to our fridge is giving me an evil grin. He is saying - are you really?

YES I AM. It is never my plan to sink into such a negative place. Being aware that what I concentrate on maifests...I know that if I keep on in this vein I will become - as Harv puts it - a crap magnet. I don't want to be a monkey OR a crap magnet. I want to be a magnet of all good things into my life...

OOPS. I said don't. Erase. What do I want? To write a colourful, loving letter back to my nieces. I want them to know how much I love them even though I am far away. I want to find new ways of making sure I am connecting with humans during my days. I want to end the incessant isolation that studying and working from home brings. I want crazy happiness.

I want a baby. Ok, perhaps not yet. But this is a new feeling for me. The want of a baby. A child. A family. I promise to get my Spiritual Abs back a bit, to manifest the life I know I deserve BEFORE getting preggo.

Although I must say that Jo and I have named the baby already. Parker Maclise Lewin. Parker Mac...would be his name...or hers. I personally believe that it is a wonderful name for both a boy or a girl. It has grown muchly on Jordan. Mom hates it.
"Don't you dare!" was her response when I told her about our name. "It sounds like a car."

Interestingly 'don't you dare' was the same response Mom had when I told her that If I was to ever have a wedding/ceremony/celebration - it would be non-alcoholic. "Why would you do that to your family, she asked?" Heehee.

So here is to what I do want.

To keep learning design. To finish my Real Estate course. To keep on with my Science of Mind studies. To cherish my relationship. To be part of a team where I can work hard and competently and be busy and important and make awesome money and, most of all, know that at the end of the day the work I put in went toward an organization that is helping people to find themselves. One day Finding Me will be my own company and in its own way It will touch millions of people's lives and remind them that ...

it is all good... the bad moods...the good moods.

The journey is beautiful whatever its colour.

Today its an orangey-yellow. And for that I give much thanks.

If You Have Nothing Nice To Say...

It is 2:54am.

Six minutes 'til three and because I am not supposed to complain, I am blog-less.

Forced to be positive, all I find is a silent numb.

And that scares me on many different levels...

Oh, I know one thing. While working on my site tonight, Finding Me hit its 1000-th visitor. That makes me proud.

This site is a God-send, literally.

Virtual water wings,

A dot-com anchor.

What Would Harv Do?

I am reading a book recommended to me by various people - The Secrets of the Millionaire Mind. Yes, it is a 'how to get rich' book, but it is based on Science of Mind principles and I am open to collecting anything at all these days that might stir me to action. There are some questionable paragraphs that lead me to squint really hard and reread in case I am mistaken - case in point - a paragraph that simply asks are you willing to do what it takes to get rich? Are you willing to work 80 hour weeks and not take weekends and see very little of your friends and family and be absent on holidays, etc.? THAT, my friends, makes me squint. Reeeeaaallllyyyyy hard. That, if you want to know my opinion, sounds like the poorest life possible.

But there have been some other things in the book that have pushed buttons or inspired me to integrate. In Chapter Two he challenges his readers to go for an entire seven days with no complaining. None. Not even THINKING the complaints. Anytime you catch yourself going there, you immediately disallow the thought to complete itself. Complaining. Hm. I am reading this and I am thinking about my current life and especially this blog and I am blushing. So, I dive into the challenge. As of two days ago I have stopped complaining. I am doing my very best. I have slipped a couple of times, but for the most part I am doing it! It is fascinating, because it is making me feel better. That does not mean it is answering my life long questions or giving me purpose or erasing all the muck that is built up in my heart, but it is lightening my load. It is putting more smiles on my face. It is resulting in days that feel less like trying to walk through peanut butter. It is working.

I challenge any of you who are reading this. Try it. Just for kicks. No complaining. For seven days. See what happens. Tell me what you find. And, if in addition to a more positive life you become a millionaire, please let me mentor you...

Oh, and for the rest of you who haven't yet submitted your favorite quote to Konkin Questions (the little icon at the top right corner of this page that says 'Wanted' with a roll over that says 'Submissions' ) - DO IT! I will keep it up until I have aquired 20 quotes from you wise souls to use in my database of quotes that appear in the right hand column of this site.

And I will be updating/redesigning/building onto my Photo Gallery page soon, too...so check it out.

I will leave you with one of Harv's "Wealth Principles" ---
The number one reason most people don't get what they want is that they don't know what they want.

A-freakin'-men, Harv, a-freakin'-men.