August 17, 2012

Pretending is the LAW OF ATTRACTION

It's been many months since I've spoken about the law of attraction. But today, I've been prompted to by my spirit guide. While in commune with God this morning, a revelation so huge smacked me over the head. It's something that I must have known deep within, but didn't make the connection . . . until now. So, it's like this.

The law of attraction is based on your core beliefs--meaning it's based on what you believe underneath your conscious mind. It's these core beliefs that govern your actions. You could be thinking one thing on a conscious level, but you will eventually take action of what your subconscious guides you to. AND THIS IS A FACT.

Now, the law of attraction states that energy vibration attracts its likeness. In other words, it attracts whatever is vibrating at the same level---be it good or bad. But a key question in creating our dreams, and our lives is: HOW do we create?

Gurus state that our thoughts create our reality. Well, yes, but there's so much more to it. Our thoughts are governed by our beliefs. Our beliefs have been established inadvertently through observation. Once a belief is established, our subconscious will guide us to take action that will be in alignment with that core belief. Our actions could start out one way but will eventually go in the direction of the core belief---and most times we don't realize this and become upset when our attempts to be successful fail. The negative results we get will then validate our core beliefs. Our conscious thoughts will then go in alignment or agreement with the action---and we end up telling ourselves that we knew we'd never be successful---which is in agreement with everything we've said, thought, and done. What the heck?

Where does imagination fit into this?

Since we don't have any control over what's been absorbed by our subconscious when we're infants, and since we grow into those absorbed beliefs, and since those core beliefs are running and ruining our lives, how can we change them?

1--by recognizing that something is definitely wrong--- you want one thing but get another.
2--through our imaginations.

Hear me out.

All things come to pass through our imagination. Think about it. From the moment you wake you think all kinds of things. You have pictures in your head of what your day will become. You have images in your mind of what the future will be. You have ideas that your upcoming week will be horrible. You can see it. Feel it. Live it. What are these things in your mind that you're seeing, feeling, and living? They are your imagination. Your imagination is fueled to go in alignment with what you believe. If your belief is that everything goes wrong for you and that you have no luck, your daydreams will be about events that go wrong for you. Your imagination will create scenes that play out your belief. Once you understand that your imagination is your lifeline, your creating software, you can take a step back and see that you've been creating negative scenes in your head, which are in alignment with your negative core beliefs, which then come to fruition due to the law of attraction. And this is why everything goes wrong for you. You imagined it and the law of attraction delivered it. Yikes! How can we stop it?

By pretending.

I know the word 'pretend' makes people conjure up the feeling that they're being a phony. But what the hell do you think imagination is? It's pretending something that finally comes into existence. So let's not use the word imagination, because for most people, it's a hard concept. So let's pretend. Pretending is fun. Pretending is what we did when we were kids. We pretended we were actresses, and astronauts, and that we were flying on spaceships. We didn't judge it. We had fun with it. It was normal to pretend. It was expected. And if society didn't tell us that as adults it was wrong to pretend, then all those pretended things would have come to pass. Even flying to the moon, because eventually, through the law of attraction, events would have lined up that would have put you into the space shuttle program. Pretending is real. It's another word for imagination. The word imagination is acceptable, but it's just another word for pretend.

So let's pretend. It's easier than saying let's imagine. When we allow ourselves to pretend it's like we give ourselves permission to play. And playing is how we create. It's a universal law. It's a universal fact.

Try it. Pretend something fun and powerful for a week. Don't judge it. Don't go off track. Pretend good things. Learn about your mind and spirit and when you understand how humans work in the physical world, you'll begin creating good things deliberately.

August 16, 2012

dictated to me by my muse . . .

the word was spelled with just the right amount of letters, and if I were to cut the word in half with a knife, the real meaning behind my letters would pour out. what would happen then? what would they think if they knew the real me? can I hide behind a vowel? Is a single consonant enough to depict my heart?

then why are words so important? we say things we don't mean. we say things to shut people up. we say things to keep the boredom from smothering us. we say what others want to hear. empty wiggly lines scribbled on paper, spoken vapor that stings open wounds. intangible objects. invisible power. hidden magic behind the cloaking devices of our souls. never revealing what's deep in the closets of our mind. words, like time, two concepts that keep our existence in motion, yet cannot be seen or touched or held or measured.

how could that be? how could something that we can't see or touch or measure hold the key to our lives--bring us to our knees, or carry us on winged prayers? increments. tiny black dots and angled carvings--like the ticking of sand molecules into an hourglass, pure nothingness, measured by pure nothingness, given the power to make us or break us---to control us.

words. time. air. love. they're blank checks that we fill in. they're empty vaults with the door left open---treasure maps stolen, until some person decides what new meaning to assign them.

August 14, 2012

You Knew He Was Wrong For You But You Went Anyway

*disclaimer* This is not an article offering relationship advice.

So this is really big. And before I get into this, I'd like to point out that I've done this myself. What am I talking about? Going with a guy for the wrong reason. Now don't say you've never done this. I think most men and women at some point in their lives have done this.

Let's say you meet a guy and after knowing him for a while, know the two of you aren't compatible. You know there are things about this person that rub you the wrong way. You know his career is an issue for you. You know his tastes in music, food, and clothing are not in alignment with yours. You know his friends are going to be a thorn in your side. You know he kisses like a wet lizard. The sex sucks. You know he doesn't want kids and is a confirmed batchelor. BUT YOU WENT WITH HIM ANYWAY, telling yourself that you'll deal with these issues when the time comes. You can change him . . . right?

Let's say you're dating this dreamboat of a guy for three months and nothing's changed. Inwardly, you hate the way he dresses. You hate his friends. You hate that he drinks. He eats like a starved pig. You hate that he's never on time. He said three times during your relentless interrogation that he hates kids. Yet, you're still with him. What are you telling yourself that keeps you there? What's the reason for staying in this incompatible relationship? Are you lonely? Are you approaching that age where your biological clock is ticking away and you find yourself desperate to marry . .  anyone--even if this 'anyone' is the wrong one? Are you disillusioning yourself into thinking that you can get him to marry you, and that once he does, he'll change his mind about having kids?

BUT what if he doesn't change his mind? Even if you get him to the alter, what if all your efforts to get pregnant go down the drain, leaving the two of you in a dark place--a place where he's turned off and you're filled with resentment? In fairness to him, you knew the rules before you got into the game, didn't you? So, why did you get involved in the first place? Is it better to be with anyone, even if they're incompatible, as long as you're not by yourself? Is it gratifying to be with a person who doesn't do it for you just to say you have a relationship? Are we so afraid of ending up alone that our only requirements for dating a guy are the three Ps--penis, pulse, and paycheck? 

Okay. You get the point. Let's move on to other possible reasons why you went with this person? If it wasn't loneliness, and it wasn't because your biological clock was ticking, then could it have been your ego? Was this person gorgeous, rich, and unobtainable? Did you feel that you had to have him because you needed to prove that you could get him, despite the fact that he was a womanizer? Did this guy have a reputation for being a player? Did you want to prove to yourself, and to everyone else, that you were the one who was going to break him? Ah, the things we tell ourselves.

Here's a good one. Did you go with someone because they had money, despite the fact that you were not attracted to him? At all? I think it's fair to say that there are numerous reasons for going with someone, even when you know deep down that they're the wrong someone. When it's all said and done, who's the one who gets hurt? Who's the one that's filled with resentment and anger?

Our own voices can be our worst enemies; especially when they echo, IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT.

August 13, 2012

Da-Nile Is Not Just a River in Egypt

Okay. So, you've just discovered that the man in your life has been cheating on you. As the idea of it smothers your imagination with scenerios that leave you mortified---such as the two of them making love, staring into each other's eyes, whispering words of adoration and longing--you can't believe it. You just cannot accept that it could be true. Oh, the devastation. The betrayal.

Once the initial shock wears off, you're ready to rip him apart. You're ready to confront him. And with your finger into his nose, you'll say, "You dirty lowlife. I know what you did!"

And so the battle begins.

At first, he's going to deny it. You know he will. He's going to say you're crazy. But when he sees that you're not buying into that line of b.s., he's then going to say that it's a lie--that the person who told you is not only a liar, they're jealous of your relationship and is hoping to break it apart. When that fails, he's going to do one of two things:

1--he's going to say that he's going out and that you need time to cool down because you've obviously lost your mind.
2--he's going to come clean, because in truth, people who cheat want to get caught for a number of reasons.

So. Let's examine the reasons.

When people cheat it's not you they're cheating on. It feels like it's being done to you because you're the one suffering the consequences of the infidelity. But in truth, it's not you. It's them. They're seeking out other people because they feel empty and unfulfilled. When they couldn't get what they needed from you, they went to someone else thinking that they could get what they needed from them. It's never about you, contrary to what you believe. Why? As humans, we want attention and love, praise and adoration, and when we don't get it from one person, we subconsciously gear toward another hoping we'll get what we need from them. That's why friendships often break apart. We grow, and outgrow each other all the time, searching for others who will now fill our mental and emotional needs. It's natural in the scheme of life. But the cheating thing?

Another reason why people want to get caught is because they don't have the nerve to play the bad guy. Sometimes, a person wants out of a relationship and will give clues and signals, hoping that you'll catch-on and find out. This is because they're hoping that when you do find out, you'll break up with them, which now shifts the bad-guy blame from them to you. It's all a head game.

So now that you've found out that he's been unfaithful, what will you do? Will you forgive him? Drill him, nonstop? Monitor every move he makes hoping to catch him doing it again?

Let's talk about this. What would you do if you found out today that your partner was or has been unfaithful?

August 9, 2012


Yesterday, I wrote about how I suffered through my first heartbreak. Looking back on the experience, I can see things from a learning perspective. Back then, I was just a young girl, beginning my journey into life. I was new. Pure. Untouched. Unspoiled. But living life does something to one's persona. When you get cheated on, or betrayed or lied to, it takes away the happy--it takes away the innocense, and leaves hard-core cynics who live in mistrust and fear. Life has a way of working its lessons, doesn't it? One day we're wearing shit-eating grins, and the next day we're crying over some guy who didn't call.

But here's the thing: why do we let ourselves get hurt, over and over again? I know we're not stupid people. We have it going on, don't we? We're hip to it, clever, too old for the chomp, and yet, we still make the same freakin' mistakes; as if we're robots stuck on STUPID mode. But, why?

Why do we go with the wrong men? What is it about the badboy that attracts us?

Now, before you say that you're not attracted to the badboy, let me define what badboy means to me.  To me, a badboy is a guy who we can't stay away from. He's cute, funny, smart, you know, he has the whole package. The reason I call him a badboy isn't because he's out in the world committing crimes or riding a Harley with the Angels, wreaking havoc everywhere he goes. Nope. He's a badboy because there's something about him that hits an emotional trigger within us; a trigger that could bring us to our knees, if we let it. What's the trigger? It's our fathers.

Please don't say, eeeww, because I'm not talking about sex here. I'm talking about a trait that mimics something we equate with love and security--even in father-daughter relationships that weren't good. We somehow make an emotional link to the badboy if there's something about him that subconsciously reminds us of our fathers. So this guy is good to go, right? Wrong.

Wrong? Yes, wrong. Why? Because these traits are only mimics of the man who raised you. The badboy is just a guy who has his own values and beliefs. He's not your father; he's only a trigger. He's got his own agenda which may be good or not so good. He may look like dad, walk like dad, talk like dad, but he ain't dad. He's a badboy who reminds you of dad, and this, all by itself, keeps you attracted to him.
Now this guy may come off like the greatest catch, and because of it, you find yourself hopelessly in love---to the point where he can do no wrong, until he does something wrong. You find out he cheated. Can't be. He was perfect in every way. But the truth is, you wanted to believe he was perfect because he reminded you of dad. What now? How do you get past his betrayal? You want to believe he's innocent. You're even willing to give him another chance, if his story seems credible. But the story doesn't hold water. He tricked you. Eventually, he's gone.

What do you do now? If you don't understand what attracted you to this guy you'll end up going after another guy just like him. You'll find another daddy-badboy and repeat the process all over again. So how do you break the pattern of going after the badboy?
You have to sit down and examine the attraction. Examine his traits. Think them through. Then ask yourself this: am I equating this guy with my father? It'll be tough to answer because you may not want to admit it, but trust me, if you do this, you won't make the same mistake again.

Girls. I hate to say this, but it's horrible when big girls cry. Isn't it time to put an end to it?

August 8, 2012

Humpty Dumpty Died of a Broken Heart

All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Maybe Humpty Dumpty just wanted to be left alone.

I remember my first heartbreak.

I was a young girl of 14 when I met Tony. He was this real cute older kid who came into our local hangout one afternoon to visit one of the boys in our group. As he strut his stuff over to our table, I remember thinking five words: Hmm. Looks like Elvis. Cute. There were no other thoughts that entered my mind because despite the fact that I liked boys, I was used to the fact that they didn't like me---the quiet, chubby girl who looked like Pocahontas. So seeing Tony was no big deal to me. I knew the drill. I could look, but then I had to forget. 
Imagine my shock when I learned later that day that this cute guy liked me. He LIKED ME! I was miffed, and mortified, and all the other good stuff that comes with the knowledge that a boy likes you---for the very first time in your whole life.

Within a month, Tony became my boyfriend. He got the full meet-n-greet interrogation from my father, and once that was done and approved, Tony became a household name. But there was one tiny problem. He was 19 and had an agenda.

I was 15 when Tony began acting weird---hinting around about doing things that adults did. I knew what he meant, because my best friend, Mandy, told me all about sex. But sex wasn't something that I was willing to participate in. And it would be okay because Tony would understand. He loved me. He cared about me. Right?

By the time I hit 16, it had became more than obvious that Tony, who was now 21, wasn't willing to wait. But I didn't know that he wasn't willing to wait. I didn't think sex was important. I was a young naive girl who thought that if you loved someone, you marry them, and then all the other stuff falls into place. 
But then the summer came. I remember Tony leaving my house one night after watching TV with my family. I remember walking him to his car, a gold Cutlass Supreme, and him kissing my cheek and saying, I'll talk to you in the morning. It was the same thing he said to me every night when he left my house.

But the next morning, I didn't hear from him. I called his house a dozen times, but each time was told that he wasn't home. The next day when I didn't hear from him, I did the same, and again, was told that he wasn't home.
By the third day, I had my sister drive me over to his house to look for his car. But when I didn't see it, I rang his doorbell and was told to never come to the house again.
By the fourth day, after calling his house, I was told never to call there again.

I was distraught. I was crushed. I was worried. I had questions. I had feelings that were new to me. Was he hurt? Did I do something wrong? But the real hurt came when I figured out that he wasn't coming back.
I must have cried for weeks. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. My young, naive heart was shattered into tiny shards of glass. There's nothing worse than making someone your world only to have them abandon you without as much as a goodbye.

By the end of that summer, I was still upset but began to move on, and that's when my sister came home one night and told me she saw Tony in a club with another girl.

"A club?" I bellowed. "What's a club?"

Her answer was my second first-lesson about life in the real world.

Many years have passed, and I can still recall that summer. I can still see the hurt little girl who gave her heart and trust to someone who tricked her into believing that he loved her. I don't feel any pain or remorse from that memory, but for some reason, the memory remains in the corridors of my mind---and seems to kick-in every time I hear about someone who's been cheated on.
It turned a trusting girl into a cynical woman who was determined to know why men cheat.

**I'll be posting several stories about relationships and the reasons why men cheat. So stay tuned! And thank you for stopping by. If you have a story to share, by all means, leave it in the comment box----that little thingy underneath my name----yes, down there :)


Note to Self    now at AMAZON

August 5, 2012

time . . .

What is time?

When we sleep and go into that dark corridor of unawareness, that place where we can’t account for our presence, it’s that place--that space of not knowing, that we equate with ‘the next day’ . . . with tomorrow.

Today is here, and to dream of tomorrow only brings us a moment closer to later. Time is just a stamp—nothing more, nothing less; because we can’t measure it, even with clocks, even with the appointments that we must keep; because we are forever going in and out of physical reality just by our constant imaginating of what we must accomplish each day. Our memories serve us well. They allow us to travel back--- to visit those places where we messed up, where we fought with friends and loved ones—those people who hurt us beyond repair---to those places where we once had love, where we could see ourselves by the shimmering ocean, holding hands with the love of our lives, recounting each word spoken, and feeling the feeling that only that deep memory could bring. Time is where we could conjure up feelings that belong to another and pretend that those feelings are toward us. Time is fickle. It affords us our inspirations when we need it---giving us false hope, and then takes it away the second we turn our attention back to the now.

If we take away our sleep and remain awake, would we’d be able to say the words yesterday, today, or tomorrow? Time is a made up event that justifies what we can’t explain, to afford us the chance of changing our paths, to give us hope that there is something to cling on to. Does a person who dreams of tomorrow exist in only today? How could he? If his attention is on what he’ll achieve then he isn’t living in the now, so he must be living in the future. But one would argue that his physical body is in the present, despite that his consciousness is somewhere else. So how do we determine time when we’re constantly exploring the past and the future?
But what if we lived in a place where every single idea we had instantly manifested as an event, and what if all these ideas and dreams were just hanging out, together at once? What if our thoughts of the past, and of today, and of tomorrow manifested at the same time and we didn’t need sleep, and suddenly everything we ever wanted and dreamed of, the good and the bad, happened right before our eyes, just waiting for us to choose which we'll focus on first? What if that was to happen? What would you choose to focus on first?

Time is the place that feeds our dreams. It’s the place where we venture back, recalling moments of loved ones lost, of the laughter and joy that their precious attachment gave us. It’s a place where nobody else but you can go. Nobody can take it away from us. The young are na├»ve; they think of time as never ending, until time creeps up on them and makes them frightfully aware that their time is about to end. It gives the young girl visions and thrills and gives the old woman the fear of what the next day brings. Time is an enigma, elusive and unforgettable, yet tangible and scary, something we think about every second of our lives.

When will you come visit me? the mother says to her grown child. The ‘when’ is the heartbreak. It’s the thought that maybe it won’t come to pass. When will I get that raise or when will I find love? The when is the part of the equation that we fear the most, yet hold on to for dear life. It’s the ‘when’ that we live for, that we aspire to, that we won’t ever let go of.
Time makes lovers laugh, the aged cry, the hopeless beg, and the unloved wishing for just one moment of happiness. It’s a ghost of our fears and the comfort of our dreams, all happening for a reason, to get us to create more.

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