You’ve been barking up the wrong tree for quite a long time. It’s time for you to start being nicer to yourself and daydreaming more and being happier about things and giving yourself more leeway and going to more places where you feel good and finding more vistas where you can do more daydreaming and more just giving yourself the opportunity to let your mind be still while your vibration rises so that then you can receive the impulse to put yourself at the right place at the right time to find the things that you are looking for. Abraham Hicks
This rampage is typically full and comprehensive and breathless. It is meant to be. Feel how the energy shifts in the very first sentence, turning us from unwanted towards what is better, preferred, and then optimal.
Refocusing and moving our energy is about changing our perspective. Ultimately, the only thing we need to know is that we can. The only question we need to ask ourselves is, Am I willing to try?
This from Abraham reminds us how it works. Worthiness only comes from one place: going inward instead of looking outside ourselves for solutions, joy, and connection. Unworthiness, fear, worry, anger, anxiety all emanate from a feeling of separateness and living conditionally. As we allow ourselves to take an unconditional emotional posture towards life, we not only gain a sense of worthiness, we also become free.
Have we convinced you that the path to everything you want, which is the past of least resistance, is the path that feels the best? Do you ever hear us say, “Take the path of most resistance?” Then why do you keep taking the path of most resistance?
The path of most resistance is the action path….the trying to convince somebody else or justify. The path of least resistance is just to let it go and trust that it’s alright. It is our wish for you that you will feel and know, feel and know. Feel the worthiness that we know is you.
It is also our knowing that a way for you to feel that worthiness is by finding a subject that you can follow out with resistance-less thought until it manifests. There’s nothing that’s going to give you the knowledge that not only are you the creator of your own reality, but that you can [also] be the deliberate creator of your own reality more than [being able to] find an interesting thought and follow it out and let it please you just because it feels good to think it. And then to witness consciously the things falling into place until it becomes a fuller and fuller manifestation.
That’s how you get your feeling of worthiness. You get it by allowing the goodness that you deserve to flow into your experience under your conscious awareness. Because if good things happen to you not under your conscious awareness, then you call it luck or fate or something that is outside of you, when nothing is outside of you.
But when you tend to your vibration, when you nurture it, when you find something that feels good and you milk it, when you look for positive aspects, when you praise often, when you feel the discord of criticism and so you stop it, when you wake up wanting to feel good and do, when you praise more than criticize and find fault, [this is when you are conscious of your worthiness and you align with your true self].
Are we conditional or unconditional creators? A rich, full, colorful life, like inspired art, can only come from one place: a fierce commitment to being and becoming ourselves, regardless of the circumstances.
I first published this piece in February of 2019, a little over one month before our lives forever changed in the face of Sean’s diagnosis. I wanted to present it again now, in May of 2020,as we both celebrate Sean’s wellness, and also discern how to manage macro and micro fear and anxiety in the face of global pandemics.
As I write this introduction, I experience a kind of almost inexpressible strangeness. It’s somehow ominous, reading the words I wrote a year ago about worry and adversity, literally on the brink of being hurled into suffering I had never even imagined would touch my experience, let alone shape it. It’s the kind of feeling we have when we’ve been in a car accident and recall what we were doing or saying or what music we were listening to on the radio just moments before everything changed. This is an eery, strange sensation. Maybe we look there to try and make sense of the trauma. Maybe we are trying to control our reaction. Maybe we are even trying to change the outcome–as if that were possible.
What I am able to understand now, though, as I revisit what I was pondering on the eve of Sean’s diagnosis, is that the movement towards greater clarity and discernment is the very essence of life. We break open, fill the emptiness or the wound with salve, heal, and then break open again. And we do this, not at the same place, not at the place of the most recent wound, but at a different one. It might feel like the same one, but it’s not, for we have grown since the last breaking open.
When I wrote these words, searching for clarity and understanding in 2019, I of course, had no idea of what was to come. But what I am able to see now is that I was, even then, undergoing this continual reaching and leveling up, breaking open and healing. When Sean was diagnosed, I wasn’t prepared for adversity, but I was ready for it. In a strange, beautiful, mystical way, I was indeed ready. And as Abraham says, living an awakened, conscious life is the willingness to “be ready to be ready to be ready….”
That’s all we can really do, isn’t it? And so this is what I commit to everyday: staying open, living open- and whole-hearted. I’m not always successful and don’t actually want to be. The contrast is the seed of evolution. So we continue to face forward and choose alignment whenever possible. Who knows what will come of that?
I have been thinking a lot lately about how to manage my desire, and feeling like I need, to act in the face of adversity versus just being. Sometimes I call this surrendering. Sometimes I call it just accepting the “as is.” Regardless, though, of what I name it, the ability to be still in the midst of chaos comes from embodying the essence of the “I am.”
To be able to rest in the “I am” is to identify with Divine oneness, God, Source, light that lives in all of us. From here, we can choose to take action, which is sometimes warranted, or we can remain still and silent.
The latter choice is the one I’m pondering now. The desire to react and even respond in the face of an attack or criticism or unkind deed by another is so strong. We want to retaliate, to speak up, to be right. But here’s the thing; just because we’re right, or feel we are, doesn’t necessarily mean we should take any action at all. And this is the tough part, because we live in a world in which we are defined by our doing, not by are being.
In light of this desire to further understand stillness in the presence of chaos, this passage shown here from the Tao resonates deeply with me.
“Because [the Master] doesn’t display himself, people can see his light.” The one who remains still is enlightened. Even in the midst of others’ loud or aggressive egos, the Master rises above the din, not because he is louder, but because he is quiet.
“Because he has nothing to prove, people can trust his words.” Again, when he acts or speaks out of his essence rather than ego, he is trustworthy, because he accepts the “as is;” others’ approval of is inconsequential.
“Because he doesn’t know who he is, people recognize themselves in him.” In other words, because he is not fixed to any dogma, belief, or institution, others can easily identify with him and thus feel an intimate connection, a oneness with him.
These passages are elegant and deeply inspiring. As I continue to evolve into my own wholeness, as my triggers lessen, as my desire to be right and to react diminishes, the Tao comforts and inspires me. This is the way.
We are journeying towards greater consciousness, self-awareness, and understanding of ourselves and others. We acknowledge the triggers, the hard things, the contrast (as Abraham Hicks calls it), and then we shift and grow and level-up (as Martha Beck refers to it). We begin to evolve, perhaps even change–not in our fundamental nature, but rather, in our ability to discern that the very core of our humanness flows from the Divinity sprouting in the very depths of our hearts. Source, God placed it there. It existed before our form took shape around it. Like the energy that birthed the essence of our souls, we, too, are eternal.
So, why are we hard on ourselves? We struggle, because this evolution is not a linear progression. Rather, it mirrors the spiral of the sacred nautilus. We begin in the center, and as we gain experience, both painful and joyous, we follow the turns of the spiral, moving further away from the central point. We don’t however, lose sight of that beginning place. It is always in view, as are the turns we have already traveled.
Inherent in this journey, then, is our ability to witness our trials and mis-steps among our joys and successes. And when we witness them, like weeds sprouting impertinently among our carefully curated flowers, we feel sad and frustrated. We might even lose faith and hope. We are experiencing self-doubt.
We wonder, why we are here again? We ask ourselves, didn’t we learn this already? And then we self-chastise for all the things: we’re not good enough, smart enough, evolved enough, worthy enough. If we stay here too long, we lose our way. We slow our pace within the spiral. We are looking so intently on the lack and what we are calling failures that we cannot continue the journey with faithful clarity.
However, once we discern where we are, when we are able to see the “as is” of our reality at any point in time, we can choose to reshape these thoughts. We must remember that even though we can see these “faults” or shortcomings in our past, we are able to witness them with compassion. We view them for what they are, because we have moved through and past them. We can only see these elements of ourselves, because we have journeyed further up the spiral. As if on a tall stairway, we are looking down at these parts of ourselves that constitute who we were earlier in our travels. We feel “less than,” because we can still see and perhaps even feel these pinched parts of ourselves. But we are not the same as we were earlier in the spiral. We are actually not at all in the same place. We have evolved. And we will continue to elevate and grow.
Self-doubt will indeed reveal herself repeatedly on our journey. We will notice her, perhaps even say hello. We need not hold her hand, however. We don’t need to sit with her for hours. We can if we wish, maybe when we take a break on the journey and rest awhile. But that’s all.
And in discerning that it is we who decide how often to gaze at or walk with self-doubt, we ultimately acknowledge that we are free. That our journey, however, long, is our own, and we alone will decide how to take the next right step.