A new way to visualize

Can you imagine the life of your dreams? Even if you're already living it (or most of it).

I've found that two "obstacles" emerge when I've asked this question in classes. First, people will say they can't visualize. Interestingly, I've gotten this response fewer times as the years go by, so either people are more used to visualizing or they're afraid to say they can't. But of course, 99.9% of us can visualize (that's not a real statistic, don't try to look it up); we do it all the time--when we go to a movie and complain it wasn't like the book; when we give someone directions...etc.

Picturing is easy.

The second obstacle--and I think the more important one--is being unable to get past the picture into the feeling. If you've never been successful, how do you know how success feels? If you've never been loved (or think you may have the wrong idea about what it means), how do you know what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship? To have the job, the car, the mundane trappings (interesting word, that) of your dreams? For that matter, the spiritual life?

Try this: imagine the intangible characteristics of that life. My ideal life--my sane life--has these characteristics: I am independent, secure, creative, joyful, fearless (except snakes; I don't mind holding on to some phobias, really. And airplanes. They are for going places in, not jumping out of. For me. You, you can do that differently.). And so on.

So when you imagine your dream home, don't just put the picture in your head. Put the characteristics of what that space brings to your life into the picture as well. In my dream home, I have room for books, and yoga, and a kitchen for creating healthy meals, and....and so on. Beyond what I really want the house to look like (I have a fondness for Arts and Crafts architecture, Mission and Shaker furniture, and hand thrown pottery, but not in excess), I want a home that inspires me to creative heights, with lots of light and the room for books is important because it keeps me focused on learning and writing and doing instead of on the clutter of stacking books on the floor or packing them away in closets (that's probably bad feng shui, too). And a bright and shiny kitchen so I'll spend time in it and enjoy it ... I love feeling creative when I cook.

Want a new car? Why? For safe and reliable transportation to work? To take meandering Sunday drives to explore and feed your adventurous spirit?

The question isn't just "what does my life look like," but "what does my life feel like?"

The things we do

I was talking last week to a friend about my plans for a mini-garden, and he shared with me what his wife had done around their house--and how the garden drew in birds and butterflies (an unintended consequence). He closed with "can you imagine if everyone in the world planted a real garden?"

The last couple of novels I've been indulging in have been of the "this is the only person who can save the world" type. Combined with the question above, this week's influences led me to this question of my own: can you imagine if everyone in the world acted as though the balance of good and evil rested on their shoulders?

I don't mean in a guilt-inducing way, of course. But on the general premise that we ought to be as awake and aware in our lives as possible, what if we treated our lives as the deciding factor in how it all turns out? If I, and I alone, were the tipping point in spiritual evolution, in mundane and spiritual sanity. If everything I did had an impact I could measure.

The World We Dream

"When you look at the world we humans have created you may conclude that it was created by sleeping people, because awake, aware, conscious people would manifest a very different world. We have entered one of the most important periods in human history...We have the opportunity to lift ourselves to new levels of consciousness." -- John Perkins, founder of DreamChange (http://www.dreamchange.org/).

Reading: The World is as You Dream It, by John Perkins. Interesting, interesting man.

New plans and no plans

It occurred to me this morning that the new house has a closed in porch that faces east (as well as one that faces south, and one that faces north--it's a very porch-y house), which may mean that I can grow more than herbs and sprouts. I'm thinking things like heirloom strains of tomatoes, beans, and other fruits/veggies--just a pot or two of each, nothing past my ability to keep up with. And if I stagger the planting, I may be able to create a mini garden that lasts for months.

I was just reading about the "doomsday" seed vault in Norway--a structure that houses seeds in an ultra-secure, very cold (zero degrees) environment. The same book mentioned the loss of diversity in food crops over the past 100 years. A friend recently mentioned an article she'd read on recovery (after athletic events) that suggested our bodies are stronger, healthier, and more adaptable/resilient when we eat a wider variety of foods. I'm also thinking that even in pots, a small garden can not only broaden the array of foods I eat, but also give me more "local" foods (I assume it counts as local if you grow them yourself!), and possibly even give me more interesting and tasty foods without raising my grocery bill (heirloom seeds, pots, soil...not necessary cheap). I'm not much of a gardener, but it's worth a try, right?

So those are my new plans. My no plans? It's a busy day--helping a friend with some editing, doing a card reading, meditation circle (after WEEKS of being absent) ... but it is absolutely gorgeous outside--the kind of weather that makes you grateful for things you don't even know about, so C and I may bag some of the editing and hang out at the park. Absorb some sun and air and green ... worship at the altar of life.

Fiscal Sanity: putting your money where your mouth is

Do you spend according to your values?

For me, this is a hard one--my perceived needs and resources don't always match up to what I know, deep down, is the right way for me to live. Depending on what your stated values are, what your "fiscal sanity" is, I think it's possible to run smack up against real life and have to compromise.

Good thing "all things in moderation" is one of my values.

I've mentioned local food before--eating local is one way that certain values of mine can definitely play out. But around here? Hard to manage, at least with any ease. One farmers market that features local "stuff" runs on a weeknight, one I'm already too busy on. CSAs, frankly, are beyond my budget--and there's the real rub. Sometimes, doing the right thing requires resources we don't really have. Garden? Not possible, at least not right now. One thing I'm looking forward to after I move next month is that I'll be in a place with more light, which means I can at least grow herbs and make my own sprouts.

Commuting to work. I don't think my hometown is the worst example of public transportation, but it might be close. Buses can take hours to commute by, but since I work less than ten miles from where I live, my impact isn't as bad as it could be...but it isn't zero.

Then there's debt, a topic I've definitely brought up before. I want to be debt free so badly I can taste it...but how to manage that is another matter. With the high cost of housing and transportation, and the high cost of eating right, paying for my past experiences (a nicer word than mistakes, don't you think?) is taking much longer than I'd like. Still, except for student loans, it's likely I'll be debt free in a few years. Sooner would be better.

So there's the question of the day: knowing what you know about your life, your values, your style of sanity, how does your financial picture stack up, and how can you improve it?

Our wisdom

Why do we have such a difficult time accepting wisdom? Leave a teaching around long enough, to be found by enough people, and it's accepted (almost) without question. But uncover or voice it for the first time and we often seem in a hurry to bury it in a pit someplace until it's dusty enough to trust.

I quote other people a lot. Not that I don't think of these things myself, but I generally feel like if it's just coming from me, maybe it isn't all that wise. Or take the Desiderata. I read someplace that it was written in the last century (the 20th, of course) and that its author made up the story about finding this centuries-old document. And yet, the words are beautiful and the teachings even more so.

I wonder what would happen if we all accepted ourselves as innately wise, as teachers as well as students.

The rest of the Secret

In Wicca, they teach that the greatest mystery of all is there is no mystery.

There is only discovery, being, (sometimes) doing. The trick is to keep those in balance. We get so busy "doing" we forget to be, and we get so busy discovering (usually intellectually) we forget to "do."

The rest of the Secret is this: thought must be followed by action. It won't -- most of the time, at least -- manifest on its own. Thought leading to intention (which is will applied to imagination) followed by observation (of opportunity, for example) will inevitably lead to action, and thus to manifestation. You can affirm all you want that you'll win the lottery, but if you don't buy a ticket....

It's like the old joke about the very pious man who got caught in a massive flood, and as the waters climbed higher, so did he, until at last he was sitting on the roof, affirming his faith in God. Two men in a boat came by, then another, then a helicopter, and to each he responded "go, help others, God will save me." Finally he was swept away by the waters and drowned. When he reached the Pearly Gates, he asked God, "why didn't you save me? I trusted, believed in you, affirmed my faith."

God's response? "I sent you two boats and a helicopter. What more did you want?"

The Secret

Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. St. Augustine

Course correction?

This is a test. It is only a test....

Every so often it seems like you make a proclamation to the Universe about your intentions, and the response is something like "yes, but do you really mean that?" You can tell this is the response, because every attachment you have regarding the subject in question will then be tugged on to see if it actually comes loose, or if you're holding on tightly. Sometimes, of course, the holding-on part is what you're looking for. That's discipline, right? Sticking to your course despite questions, challenges, obligations, and so forth, that can derail you and send you off in a different direction.

Sometimes, it's the letting-go that's the hard part.

Learning to trust that everything you need will be there can be difficult. Especially when you see the intended outcome so clearly that it's doubly frustrating when you can't see the path that gets you there. At those times, the "yes, but do you really mean that?" test can be a doozy--every fear you ever had about the goal, not to mention every fear you have about trusting anyone, least of all the amorphous force we call Spirit, reaches up and smacks you on the forehead, proclaiming you an idiot for going down this path.

It's not faith to step out onto a path you're certain of. Faith is taking the step and trusting the fog to lift.