You can't always get what you want

But I definitely got what I need.  Some applause, a new follower, and some perspective.

Three phone calls, one blog-comment, and five condolence/encouragement emails later, I feel better, more human, less grandiose.  Whew!

During one call, we sang the Rolling Stones to each other.  I got that rowdy, I-can-do-anything feeling only rock and roll can give.  We laughed out loud and I said the F-word twice in one sentence, blaming it on negative animus.  We were both women, and of course, we were thinking we should try to control that stuff.  Now, I'm thinking, less control-more animus (but the positive kind that's kick-ass strong and knows it, the way they teach you to be when you take Kung-fu, so you don't have to be aggressive).

One commiserate said that what I wrote made her think about her own grandiosity and how she suffers with desire.  When I quoted the Buddha, that's what I thought would happen in readers (being holy and spiritual as I am), and that somehow the lesson for me here is to continue this trend I've been setting about letting go, this time of my strong desire to be a published author.  Someone I once knew calls this kind of thinking "doing a spiritual bypass."

So here comes the perspective shift.

One commentator (admittedly someone very close to me) wrote: 

 

"I love you and will wait patiently for the news that you've found a publisher.  Keep writing; keep hoping; most importantly: keep submitting and remember that the Buddha was a selfish man that left his family high and dry so he could go park his big fat but under a tree and think, so keep all natural emotions despite what the sages and sooths might say."

 

I love it!  The Buddha wasn't ALL THAT.  Really?  

 

This is not to insult any one's religious leanings or teachers, but to remind myself (by realizing the frailty of all human beings, even great teachers) to listen to my own inner authority, to find my own voice, to hear criticism with equanimity, and to carry on doing what I do.

A response to the question (right) "What defines you?"

I've been in mourning all day.  After I made a bleary-eyed email check this morning, I just couldn't face the computer.

First, I sat with my coffee on the chaise by the pool facing east.  I made some lunch and a smoothie and sat there some more.  Then I sat on the chaise by the pool facing west for a while, trimmed my fifteen year old poodle's hair.  Then I sat in the tub, soaked myself in baking soda and salt.  Then, naked, I sat on the patio facing west again, letting the sun wash me too.  It was there that this came to me, so here I sit, finally facing the computer.

"What happened?" you ask.

Well, yesterday I let myself get extraordinarily high.  In the morning, I emailed the literary agent I met last summer and who has been reading my novel for the past three months to find out what he was thinking.  He called me within a couple of hours, but I missed his call.  His message said, "It's funny you should call today, because I finished reading your novel this weekend and I was going to give you a call, so call me back."

OMG!  He wants me to call him back!  This has to be good news.  So I called right there in the parking lot.
No answer.  Okay-heart-racing-hand-shaking-arm-pit-dripping me is now driving home waiting for a call back from my agent like it's the most normal thing in the world.  But it definitely is not normal at all.  It is huge and I am a wreck.  Breathe....Breathe....Breathe....settle.  Okay.

I'd spent six years writing this book.  I finished it last summer just in time for the Writer's League of Texas Agents Conference.  I registered, met this agent, he asked to read my manuscript and voila!  I'm a novelist.  I'm picturing myself doing readings at Barnes and Noble, talking to other would-be novelists at workshops about the writing life, flipping my hair at Dave Letterman (did I mention that I have a tendency toward grandiosity?).

It is a fact, however, that getting a card from an agent at a conference like that the very first time I pitched it is a phenomenal feat, and I felt reaaaaalllly sure he would love my book.

So I get home and tell Mr. Friendly what's going on and he gets all excited too.  Now we're living in the Caribbean and he's driving a red corvette.  I sit by the water all day wiggling my toes in the white sand and write one beautiful novel after another.

The phone finally rings and its him.  I'm a race horse at the starting line.  But when the gun goes off, I don't even get to run.  My cage doesn't open.  I'm just standing there watching all the other thoroughbreds dash off in wild abandon and I realize, I'm not even going to get to try to win.

You guessed it.  He didn't love my book.  He said I have the bones of a good story, but that it needs some meat on it. 

I was ready to sign a contract.  I was even ready for complete rejection, but I wasn't ready to hear him say, "I'm willing to read it again after you've done some more work on it."  Now I know every writer has to re-write.  I've read that.  I was expecting that.  But I wanted the editor at the publishing house to whom my agent sold my book to to be the one to say, "You have to re-write."  Not my agent who is not my agent, yet.  So now, apparently, I'm pouting.

But really it's more than that.  It's because yesterday I was so close to getting something I strongly desire.  I was so close to being able to go around saying, "My agent this and my agent that," and "my novel this and that."  And today, I'm back to not so close.  I'm back to the me I am already.  Now.  The one whose worth I doubt unless she can say, "My agent, my novel, my book of poetry, look what I've achieved," when someone asks, "What defines you?"

The Buddha said that desire is the root of all suffering.  I agree.

A few days ago, a neighbor and bodywork client came to see me with a debilitating headache. We worked together for more than an hour in my newly discovered at-home sanctuary.

When a client presents with an acute condition, I have a strong (ego) desire to "fix it." I have to actively practice asking the ego to step out of the way, prayerfully invite Spirit Guides and Healing Helpers to bring the client the healing that serves their highest good and let go of the results. 

Because I do this, I am repeatedly delighted and so are my clients when their symptoms dissipate or disappear entirely. By this kind of surrender, I am humbled and convinced, time after time, that it is Spirit doing the work through my hands and not me. It is crucial that I do not take credit for the results so that I, in turn, do not have to accept blame when symptoms do not abate. It is crucial, as well, that I know for the client, for myself, for humanity, and for the planet that even though I may not see healing with the body's eyes, healing that serves the highest good of all concerned always happens. Who am I to judge because I cannot see?

My practice remains, however, to deny the power of all manner of unhappiness, disease, dysfunction, distress, or negative energy of any kind as those are thought forms made manifest in the body and in one's life circumstances in cases of mistaken identity. If I identify myself with negative manifestations of any kind, even though they seem real because I can sense them in my body (or in my client's body) or because I can see them or touch them, witness them with my senses, then I am mistaken about my True Identity. When I am mistaken about my identity, I experience disconnection, dis-empowerment, chaos, disease, and unhappiness and, even more importantly, I proliferate that mistake into the consciousness of the race mind.

Whereas, when I remember the Essence of my True Self (in spite of appearances): I am a Light Being, a swirling vortex of pure positive, full-spectrum Light Source Energy, connected to the core earth energies and to the Pure Light Source Energies, perfectly aligned, balanced, open, operating in perfect order and harmony, full of Love, loving, and lovable, healed and whole, and claim that which is the Great Reality as mine instead, then All That Lives Within me moves to manifest within and without that to which I am now identified. And, most importantly, by correctly identifying myself with the Divine Whole and therefore with all of its characteristics (read The Seven Main Aspects of God by Emmet Fox), I am not only healing (a recognition and realization of the Whole) myself, but healing the race consciousness and the planet as well.l

This time, my client's symptoms did dissipate by the end of our hour long session, and the next afternoon, she visited me bringing fresh strawberries and blackberries.  

"I brought these as a celebration of joy.   My headache is gone!" she said, giving me the most wonderful gratuity.  For the next two mornings, I enjoyed a healthful "berry-licious" smoothie made with her gift, Almond Ice (sweetened with agave nectar so it's processed, white-sugar-free), rice milk (so it's dairy free), and a scoop of rice protein (contains 12 grams of protein).  


It was so beautiful (hint:  Beauty is one of the main aspects of God) and so delicious that I set it in the garden and took a photo to share with you, extending the celebration of joy (hint: Joy is the highest expression of the Divine) and hoping that you will make and enjoy a smoothie of your own in honor of healing, beauty, and joy. 

Self-Ordained

                                                     

 

Several years ago, having discerned that following a traditional path to ordination as a Christian minister wasn't my path, I began to visualize a sanctuary space I wanted to create. I thought it would be a retail space where I would teach art classes, do energetic balancing, hold circle dances and sacred interfaith rituals, and create community while earning a living.

I busied myself finding a space and signing a lease for it (all with the avid resistance of Mr. Friendly, my spouse, who rarely supports new ventures of mine if they involve spending money). At that point, I did not have the state license I needed to do hands-on work with people. One way to satisfy that need was to apply online for ordination through the Universal Life Church, as ministers can do "laying on of hands." Reluctantly, I did this, but told no one, a part of me still desiring the approval of some organized, recognized entity like "the church" to sanctify my calling.

The lease for the space didn't work out, so I revisited my plan, thinking that road-blocks are Universal Guides to which I should pay attention (interestingly, I hadn't considered Mr. Friendly's resistance a road-block-this is a hint).

I have experienced, that when I am in Universal Flow, the way is clear and unobstructed.

So, I entered and graduated from massage school. This gave me the license I needed to do hands-on bodywork with people. As I prepared to take the state examination for my license, I began, again, to look for spaces near my home in which to establish the sanctuary I had been visualizing. For days, I'd driven round in circles, visited with business owners and landlords, and felt an uneasiness growing in my gut. I had no clientele and I had only a small financial seed, so signing a lease would have been risky at best. But I could SEE the space. I knew what I wanted.

After a few days of searching, out of the blue, I received a phone call from a dear friend. "By any chance, are you looking for a space?" she asked. I almost dropped the phone. She'd been called to a visioning ministry for a mission nearby and they were looking to share space with like-minded individuals. All I had to do was go get the key and agree to donate for the space as I could. Wow.

My practice grew, but slowly. The mission grew very little. Now they are relinquishing the space, and last week, I moved out of that space. I've been wondering how I will attract clients now. Wondering what this means?

I've decided that it just means not there. Not now. It means I have to trust the process again. It means there is more happening than I can see. I began to visualize people handing me one-hundred dollar bills as a practice of manifesting Abundant Supply, visualizing what I want to come into my experience, as I do need income.

Ask and you will receive (even if you don't know how).

So I cleared out my studio space at home and brought my practice home. Mr. Friendly and I are learning to share space in a more profound way than we have in thirty years.

A few days ago, another therapist I'd met two years ago who remembered me, called. I hadn't spoken to her since we met. She is moving out of state and needs a therapist to whom she can recommend her small clientele and wondered if I'd be interested.

Wow!

She came to my studio yesterday to experience my work. She felt well as she left and I think she'll refer to me. Who knows what will happen? Choosing a therapist is a very personal thing. And what about the sanctuary I've been visualizing?

One of the things that passed through my hands during the process of packing, unpacking, relinquishing, and clearing over the passed few weeks is a poem my mother wrote to me when I first opened Moon Shadow Sanctuary in the space I just lost. I thought then that the piece was about that place.

Now, the poem sits on the altar here in my very own studio, a place I've had all along. But now I read the poem much differently. Now I do not read it to be about a place I had to find. It is not about place at all. Instead, I read it to be about living in the sanctuary of Spirit, the sanctuary of knowing that the Universe brings me all that I need in perfect timing. The sanctuary of knowing that the Universe answers the "prayers of my heart" and that even when I don't understand what I'm asking for, or know the healing I need, Omniscience does know and Spirit heals. The sanctuary of knowing that I am co-creating my world (be careful what you think) and that what I visualize, does materialize, always shape-shifted by Spirit to serve the Highest Good.

Here am I
Just as I was dreamed
So lovely
A quiet place
A place to be still and know
A place to Be
The Real Me of You.

Only You are needed
To call forth my Spirit
From my window
To inherit the
Shade of my Tree.

In silence
Come unto me

Beth Ellis Grimes, '07

Letting Go

Today my neighbor brought me a yellow sweet pepper to plant in the garden she knows I want to have, but don't. Well, now I do, because we went straight out to plant the two inch beauty that promises to deliver nourishment in a matter of weeks. While we were outside, we spoke to the neighbor next door who was planting tomatoes. He asked, "You got a tomato plant yet?" Well, no I hadn't gotten one yet, so he gave me two. I planted those on the spot as well. Boom. A veggie garden!

On another venue (www.google.com/profiles/dellisphelps), I've been writing about letting go of things, and about how just this fall I let go of having a wild scape of native Texas wildflowers in the very same area of our homestead acre as we had just planted this serendipitous veggie garden. I've been understanding a new levels how letting go creates space in which the Universe can create something new. I'm especially aware of how things to which I find myself intensely attached are often the very things I am (it seems) required to release. And when I do, they often become manifest in my life very quickly in ways I could never have imagined.

For example, as we were planting, I noticed my neighbor's field. It is full of wildflowers: primrose, bluebonnet, coreopsis, and buttercups growing everywhere in profuse, abundant abandon. These are in HER yard, not mine. Envy gave me a sarcastic wink. I flinched.

But wait. Only a few feet from where we stood, where I thought (for twenty some years I tried to make this happen) I would have said wild scape, now...this spring...a NATURAL wild scape has emerged. It's not as delicious as my neighbor's showing, but it is showing. I have spider wart, primrose, buttercup, coreopsis, black-foot daisies and more. Some might say the reason for this year being the year this wild scape has emerged is the extraordinary rains we've had. But I think, it's happened because I let go.

Even more interesting, is the fact that, Mr. Friendly (a nickname given my spouse of thirty years who usually does not play well with others) has decided to enjoy the natural landscape and let the flowers have their way with that particular section of the yard he usually mows but hasn't.

I know there are many other "things" of which I probably should let go and allow the Universe to bring to me in more natural ways. Working for applause might be one of them.

I don't think starting a new blog is surrendering the need for applause. Do you?