Just when I thought I was out of the war inside me… it pulled me back in! I have maintained a pretty positive outlook about quitting my job for the past 40 days but today has been a challenge. The mind plays some funny tricks. What has changed? My circumstances are the same as they were yesterday yet today, I was confronted with a barrage of thoughts:
“Who do I think I am quitting my job at a time like this? My writing is not that good. Am I being responsible? Why hasn’t Wayne or Deepak called?
Time to question my negative thoughts (Thank you Byron Katie):
Why isn’t it the right time to quit my job? How do I know my writing is not good enough? Who sets the standard? How do I know that teaching my kids to follow their dreams and let go of fear isn’t the most responsible thing I could do in life? How do I know Wayne or Deepak have even gotten to my blog much less decided not to call?
If I take a moment and really question the foolishness of my insecurities, I realize that even if a writing career does not work out, I am bilingual, have two masters’ degrees, have taught at a university, have held a stable management job for years and I am pretty resourceful. So what is wrong with me? Why do I feel insecure about my future today? It’s as if old residual stuff not at all connected with my present reality is surfacing and working its way out. “Sit with it, Dennis. Don’t judge it; just let it flow up and out.”
About a month ago, I lost my Iphone. You might say “So what, it’s just a phone.” You don’t understand, it is my iphone! Prior to this year, I have never owned a cell phone and I went right to a 16G Apple Iphone.
It was 9am when I realized my iphone was nowhere to be found. I work seven minutes from my home and knew that I had left the home with my Iphone so I must have dropped it during my seven minute walk. After exhibiting the behavior of a man who was about to have a full blown panic attack, I went right into sleuth mode. I went online and checked my AT&T phone logs to see if any calls were placed after 9am. There had been eight calls made. I called each and every number.
“Excuse me, you don’t know me but I lost my phone a few hours ago and a call was placed to this number from whoever has it. Can you check your caller display to see if you recognize the person who called you at 9:31, 10:08, 11:02.. I disconnected the service with AT&T and waited. At 1pm, I got a callback from the man who had my phone.
“ I found your phone. I’m really sorry. My mom said I had to call you and return it or she would call my parole officer.”
Did he say… ? Ignore it Dennis. “When can I get my phone?”
“I can’t today, I don’t have a car.”
“Well, I don’t want you to steal a car to get me my phone” (a bad joke that fell on deaf ears) but I need my phone today or else I’ll have to call the police.”
“I will get you your phone. “
An hour later, I got a call from a woman. “I have your phone. I have been helping this young man ever since he was a teenager. He is a troubled kid.
“He said you were his mother”
“Oh no, not me. Where could we meet so that I can get you your phone. I am unemployed so I can meet you now if you’d like.”
We met at a safe Starbucks not far from where I live and work. I gave her $20 for her help and she gave me a huge hug. We parted ways. I got my Iphone.
At around 7pm that night I got another call. This time from a good friend of the man who took my Iphone. It turns out that the man who took my phone is mentally disabled and that the woman who retrieved my phone was indeed his mother. The woman on the line then said in a haunting tone “There is more to this story than you know.” “Listen”, I said, I appreciate you calling me back but I’d rather not learn anymore.”
“Do you pray?, she said. “Please pray for him and for his mother.”
I said I will and then hung up.
I’ve thought about this incident a great deal the past month. Why did it happen? I believe it happened so that I could remember two things:
1. I am a resourceful person who knows how to use his noggin.
2. There is always more to anybody’s story than we know.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 21 days
Three weeks before resignation day! I must admit, it’s getting harder to write from the heart. I keep asking myself: “Do my readers want to hear about dream manifestation or healing prayer? Taking action? Overcoming fears or parallel universes? This is me. This is who I am and I just want to write my story. I had received great advice before I started this process: “If you want to reduce writer’s block, just speak and let your fingers take the dictation. Write for you and no one else. Your readers will make themselves known.”
I feel called to write about one of the greatest figures of the 20th century. She has been an inspiration to me and millions who look for greater and greater ways to serve. She had a moment that changed everything. The “moment” came on September 10, 1946 and the woman’s name is Mother Teresa.
Excerpts from Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire- The Encounter that Changed Her Life And How It can Transform Your Own by Joseph Langford, 2008, Our Sunday Visitor Publishing
Mother Teresa’s moment arrived while on a train to Darjeeling, India. She named this day, “Inspiration Day”.
“Somewhere along the way, Mother Teresa had an extraordinary experience of God. In her characteristic humility, she would refer to this life-changing experience as simply ‘a call within a call’, a call to leave Loreto and go into the slums [of Calcutta]. Only later would she reveal more of what transpired in her soul that September day, and of the extraordinary interior communications during the following year and a half, in which Jesus would commission her to ‘carry him’ and ‘be his light’ in the darkness of Calcutta’s slums.” Pg.21
“..An experience of such power and depth, of such intense ‘light and love’, as she would later describe it, that by the time her train pulled into the station at Darjeeling, she was no longer the same. Though no one knew it at the time, Sister Teresa had just become Mother Teresa.”- pg. 44
I remember learning of her death within a few days after my wife and I had arrived in Colorado, August 1997. I found it so divinely perfect that this humble nun passed away as quietly as she moved through life. Her death and burial was overshadowed by that of Princess Diana's. I have always admired the depth of her humility and hope to grow in its lessons. Mother Teresa did not allow this “Inspiration Day” moment to be spoken of until 1984. It was to be revealed within the context of a reason for her dedication to the poorest of the poor: to quench the divine thirst of God. Human Beings are not the only ones who long for a connection to the divine. The divine longs for a connection with us! A testament to the notion that we are all one disguised as many. Mother Teresa’s mission, which began on September 10, 1946 is best illustrated in her own her words:
“Poverty doesn’t only consist of being hungry for bread, but rather it is a tremendous hunger for human dignity. We need to love and to be somebody for someone else. This is where we denied the poor a piece of bread, but by thinking that they have no worth and leaving them abandoned in the streets, we have denied them the human dignity that is rightfully theirs as children of God. The world today is hungry not only for bread but hungry for love, hungry to be wanted, to be loved.”- Mother Teresa, No Greater Love. p. 93.
The reason I exalt Mother Teresa is because not only did she listen to spirit and obeyed its calling, she did so without regard to the usual barriers human beings put along their path to service. All people, regardless of religion, social class and lifestyle deserve to be loved and cared for. It was a command from her creator. Through the words “I thirst”, the divine conveyed a need for her. The divine conveys the same need for us all.
I have no idea how best to serve. Discovering how best to serve is the bulk of my work. I make people laugh at work with my John Travolta moves, I try to stay positive at home and speak to my daughters about their limitless potential and to have no doubt- Santa will answer their letter. I try to write from my heart ignoring the inner critic who thinks all he is doing is inviting judgement, and help in any way I can. Yet it always feels drastically insufficient. Do I give enough money to charity? Do I volunteer enough of my time? It never feels like enough. My only hope is that I have found a new way to serve-through writing. Mother Teresa consistently did the impossible around the world. She overcame corrupt regimes, wars, political and religious obstacles by focusing on one thing: making the person in front of her feel better. If I can just focus on that and not on meeting Oprah, it will be a purpose driven life indeed.
I feel called to write about one of the greatest figures of the 20th century. She has been an inspiration to me and millions who look for greater and greater ways to serve. She had a moment that changed everything. The “moment” came on September 10, 1946 and the woman’s name is Mother Teresa.
Excerpts from Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire- The Encounter that Changed Her Life And How It can Transform Your Own by Joseph Langford, 2008, Our Sunday Visitor Publishing
Mother Teresa’s moment arrived while on a train to Darjeeling, India. She named this day, “Inspiration Day”.
“Somewhere along the way, Mother Teresa had an extraordinary experience of God. In her characteristic humility, she would refer to this life-changing experience as simply ‘a call within a call’, a call to leave Loreto and go into the slums [of Calcutta]. Only later would she reveal more of what transpired in her soul that September day, and of the extraordinary interior communications during the following year and a half, in which Jesus would commission her to ‘carry him’ and ‘be his light’ in the darkness of Calcutta’s slums.” Pg.21
“..An experience of such power and depth, of such intense ‘light and love’, as she would later describe it, that by the time her train pulled into the station at Darjeeling, she was no longer the same. Though no one knew it at the time, Sister Teresa had just become Mother Teresa.”- pg. 44
I remember learning of her death within a few days after my wife and I had arrived in Colorado, August 1997. I found it so divinely perfect that this humble nun passed away as quietly as she moved through life. Her death and burial was overshadowed by that of Princess Diana's. I have always admired the depth of her humility and hope to grow in its lessons. Mother Teresa did not allow this “Inspiration Day” moment to be spoken of until 1984. It was to be revealed within the context of a reason for her dedication to the poorest of the poor: to quench the divine thirst of God. Human Beings are not the only ones who long for a connection to the divine. The divine longs for a connection with us! A testament to the notion that we are all one disguised as many. Mother Teresa’s mission, which began on September 10, 1946 is best illustrated in her own her words:
“Poverty doesn’t only consist of being hungry for bread, but rather it is a tremendous hunger for human dignity. We need to love and to be somebody for someone else. This is where we denied the poor a piece of bread, but by thinking that they have no worth and leaving them abandoned in the streets, we have denied them the human dignity that is rightfully theirs as children of God. The world today is hungry not only for bread but hungry for love, hungry to be wanted, to be loved.”- Mother Teresa, No Greater Love. p. 93.
The reason I exalt Mother Teresa is because not only did she listen to spirit and obeyed its calling, she did so without regard to the usual barriers human beings put along their path to service. All people, regardless of religion, social class and lifestyle deserve to be loved and cared for. It was a command from her creator. Through the words “I thirst”, the divine conveyed a need for her. The divine conveys the same need for us all.
I have no idea how best to serve. Discovering how best to serve is the bulk of my work. I make people laugh at work with my John Travolta moves, I try to stay positive at home and speak to my daughters about their limitless potential and to have no doubt- Santa will answer their letter. I try to write from my heart ignoring the inner critic who thinks all he is doing is inviting judgement, and help in any way I can. Yet it always feels drastically insufficient. Do I give enough money to charity? Do I volunteer enough of my time? It never feels like enough. My only hope is that I have found a new way to serve-through writing. Mother Teresa consistently did the impossible around the world. She overcame corrupt regimes, wars, political and religious obstacles by focusing on one thing: making the person in front of her feel better. If I can just focus on that and not on meeting Oprah, it will be a purpose driven life indeed.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 22 days
I am noticing that the more I let go of my fears around the decision to quit my job in 22 days and instead put all my energies into creating "The Superman Effect", the more I find myself becoming aware of the most subtle movements in the universe. The Zoo had a giving jar with a sign: “Make a change”. A close friend who has yet to start reading my blog reveals to me one of her deep insecurities and instead of becoming self-deprecating, says “It is what it is”. The interview for the work-from-home job that can supplement my writing with income and provide trips to Italy, is set for December 7th, and I feel so much support from my friends on both sides of the veil.
I feel the presence of my deceased father cheering me on to the finish line. I read Jesus’ words as if for the first time: “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” My friends in spirit are always with me, sending their love and positive thoughts and the coolest part is that even if I don’t hear from them, I feel it their love.
Confidence in my writing is growing every day and I feel lighter, more at ease. Life is fun because I choose to focus on it as fun. I have worried way too much about money in the past and I choose to let go of the worry and fully trust this time around. As long as when I come home, my wife and kids see a happy dad, then they in turn are joyous, so I refuse to let income determine the happiness of my family. We have always had our financial needs met and like my wife says, “If this does not work out and we lose our house, then we build back up again.” With that kind of support, I cannot fail.
I believe that fear creates density in the human experience. Density is responsible for our narrow vision and lack of spiritual and intuitive sensitivity. If we learn to release our fears, and trust that the universe supports our higher purpose, than manifestation becomes easier, we feel lighter and become more sensitive to higher vibrations. As long as our fears keep us from believing in what we don’t see, then we remain closed to life’s possibilities.
We can choose to live life believing we cannot afford anything, that we will never be truly loved, that we can’t do better than the job we have or that we are not creative. The universe will do everything in its power to confirm our beliefs. Our life circumstances are an identical mirror image of the mix between our conscious and unconscious beliefs. Because many of our beliefs contradict each other, ( for example, I want to be financially wealthy but money is the root of all evil) it is no wonder that we feel confused. The most frustrating part is that we are actually made in the image of God with unlimited, pure potential for clarity, creativity, freedom and trust. As a global belief, this is a great place to start.
As far as where the money will come from to replace my management salary? As Deepak Chopra likes to say when quoting the Guru being asked the same question by his devotee:
“Where will the money come from?” “The money will come from where it’s at.”
I feel the presence of my deceased father cheering me on to the finish line. I read Jesus’ words as if for the first time: “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” My friends in spirit are always with me, sending their love and positive thoughts and the coolest part is that even if I don’t hear from them, I feel it their love.
Confidence in my writing is growing every day and I feel lighter, more at ease. Life is fun because I choose to focus on it as fun. I have worried way too much about money in the past and I choose to let go of the worry and fully trust this time around. As long as when I come home, my wife and kids see a happy dad, then they in turn are joyous, so I refuse to let income determine the happiness of my family. We have always had our financial needs met and like my wife says, “If this does not work out and we lose our house, then we build back up again.” With that kind of support, I cannot fail.
I believe that fear creates density in the human experience. Density is responsible for our narrow vision and lack of spiritual and intuitive sensitivity. If we learn to release our fears, and trust that the universe supports our higher purpose, than manifestation becomes easier, we feel lighter and become more sensitive to higher vibrations. As long as our fears keep us from believing in what we don’t see, then we remain closed to life’s possibilities.
We can choose to live life believing we cannot afford anything, that we will never be truly loved, that we can’t do better than the job we have or that we are not creative. The universe will do everything in its power to confirm our beliefs. Our life circumstances are an identical mirror image of the mix between our conscious and unconscious beliefs. Because many of our beliefs contradict each other, ( for example, I want to be financially wealthy but money is the root of all evil) it is no wonder that we feel confused. The most frustrating part is that we are actually made in the image of God with unlimited, pure potential for clarity, creativity, freedom and trust. As a global belief, this is a great place to start.
As far as where the money will come from to replace my management salary? As Deepak Chopra likes to say when quoting the Guru being asked the same question by his devotee:
“Where will the money come from?” “The money will come from where it’s at.”
Friday, November 27, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 23 Days
It’s time to take massive action! After having gone through 36 days of sitting, feeling, purging, emptying, dreaming, and writing now is the time to move and cut off all limiting beliefs. Incision is to cut, decision is to cut off any other alternative option. I have printed 10 copies of my writings and am sending off tomorrow a copy to movers and shakers in the transformation industry. I am not looking back. I want to get these writings out to as many people as possible. He that has no email address has a Hay House Publishing address. Wayne Dyer, my friend, thank you for being my inspiration! A copy is heading your way. I am not listening to that annoying little voice: “What if it’s too early?” What if I didn’t catch all the spelling errors?” “What if nobody responds?”” What if!”
Instead, I am looking ahead. I will leave the university and my book will be published. I will teach classes from my writings. I will continue to listen to spirit. I will continue to have a harmonious family life and enjoy the company of my friends. Every day I will hear stories of people who have cast their fears aside and have taken giant leaps of faith, who notice the extraordinary in seemingly ordinary events. People who have slowed down enough to recognize the child and the dreamer in them.
A month ago, I posted on a well-known spiritual community site an introduction to my blog. I would like to extend the same invitation to you all.
“I'm an ordinary guy who is waking up to the recognition of extraordinary past experiences. I have spent the past 15 years of my life desperately searching for the moment when my life purpose becomes crystal clear. When old constructs of who I think I am, fade away and a sense of clarity of purpose comes upon me that is undeniable. A moment that crystallizes my destiny and compels me to willingly surrender. This moment is filled with a love that burns all perceptions of fear and illusions of separateness. It calls me to act with conviction, and completely transforms the way I perceive the world and my place in it. Overnight, I am made aware of my mission and purpose for being. It can reach me as the sound of roaring waves or as a still small voice, but when it arrives, there is no doubt. I am moved by the creative force of the universe to say "yes" and live.
I would like to read about this moment in your life. It is exquisitely healing to spend the time looking at your past experiences through the eyes of inspired turning points. Did we chart out their exact timing before we were born and thus are we "remembering" the moment?
What was the turning point in your life that propelled you to live out your current vision and purpose? How did you feel when the moment arrived? How did others relate to you? Was rational thought suspended? Did your heart open in newfound ways? Did your fear vanish and did you have to act?
Like the parting of the Red Sea, I believe the universe supports our movements when they are born out of this destiny shaping experience.
Please bless us all with your story!"
Instead, I am looking ahead. I will leave the university and my book will be published. I will teach classes from my writings. I will continue to listen to spirit. I will continue to have a harmonious family life and enjoy the company of my friends. Every day I will hear stories of people who have cast their fears aside and have taken giant leaps of faith, who notice the extraordinary in seemingly ordinary events. People who have slowed down enough to recognize the child and the dreamer in them.
A month ago, I posted on a well-known spiritual community site an introduction to my blog. I would like to extend the same invitation to you all.
“I'm an ordinary guy who is waking up to the recognition of extraordinary past experiences. I have spent the past 15 years of my life desperately searching for the moment when my life purpose becomes crystal clear. When old constructs of who I think I am, fade away and a sense of clarity of purpose comes upon me that is undeniable. A moment that crystallizes my destiny and compels me to willingly surrender. This moment is filled with a love that burns all perceptions of fear and illusions of separateness. It calls me to act with conviction, and completely transforms the way I perceive the world and my place in it. Overnight, I am made aware of my mission and purpose for being. It can reach me as the sound of roaring waves or as a still small voice, but when it arrives, there is no doubt. I am moved by the creative force of the universe to say "yes" and live.
I would like to read about this moment in your life. It is exquisitely healing to spend the time looking at your past experiences through the eyes of inspired turning points. Did we chart out their exact timing before we were born and thus are we "remembering" the moment?
What was the turning point in your life that propelled you to live out your current vision and purpose? How did you feel when the moment arrived? How did others relate to you? Was rational thought suspended? Did your heart open in newfound ways? Did your fear vanish and did you have to act?
Like the parting of the Red Sea, I believe the universe supports our movements when they are born out of this destiny shaping experience.
Please bless us all with your story!"
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 24 days
When I was 10 years old, I fell deeply in love with a girl. I was sure I was going to marry her and told her as much. She was an ensemble member of our 5th grade play- Damn Yankees. I played the lead character Shoeless Joe Hardy which meant we would see each other in class and during drama rehearsals. A minute would not go by when I wasn’t thinking of her. I was convinced as only a 10 year old could be, that she was the one. At the end of my sixth grade, she called me to tell me she was moving and that we would not see each other again. She said she was playing the board game “Life” with her family that day and that the number 10 kept coming up on her dice. Through a broken mini-heart I said “Why don’t we make a pact, to see each other again in 10 years and get married?” She said yes!
The year I graduated from Boston University, my sister ran into my childhood sweetheart on a NY subway. I was home by then and she invited her over. I instantly remembered our pact. It had been 10 years since I last saw her. We dated for a year with what I can only describe as a tempestuous relationship. I still felt however, that she was the one I was to marry. A few days before Christmas she called me to tell me that we would not see each other again. She had rekindled a relationship with another man from Boston. My heart felt like it would explode and the only balm available was the loving arms of my newborn nephew. Holding him tight released the pain of utter betrayal I felt in my chest and these regular hugs made the holiday season a bearable one.
I am thankful for this break up. It forced me to make a decision that would forever alter the direction of my life. A decision that to this day has given me everything I could ever need.
The year after graduating with a bachelor’s degree in acting was filled with as much rejection as there were auditions. I could not land an acting job in NY. I would get callbacks but no gigs. It was a dark and depressing time. Had I spent four years studying to be an actor with no prospects of a career? I worked in the World Trade Center- Tower 2 as a temp that year and passed the time wondering will I ever do anything great with my life. I worked there most of the year and did not care that there had been a terrorist bombing. Losing my childhood sweetheart was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. It was time to leave NY.
I am thankful for this period of deep depression and loneliness in NY. It forced me to look at making a change. Soon after she left me, I called the University of Missouri and set up an audition to enter the Master of Fine Arts program. I was headed to Kansas City. I had no idea at the time that my future wife was waiting for me. She had traveled as many miles as I had from the opposite direction and we were to meet in the middle. Describing what my wife means to me is like asking me to describe God. She is closer to me than any adjective or metaphor could articulate. My love for her is not something I feel as an outside force but is inexplicably intertwined with my very being. There is no denying it, she and I are one.
If I stop to look at the dark nights in my life, I am thankful for each and every one of them. They were not fun to experience but they each had a strong lesson to teach me and most importantly, they have brought me here with you now. Every experience of pain brought with it a deeper appreciation of joy and meaning, without exception.
During Thanksgiving dinner today at the home of one of our closest friends, we all went around the table and said one thing we were thankful for. The five children present went first. My six year old daughter said “I’m thankful for everything.” So am I.
The year I graduated from Boston University, my sister ran into my childhood sweetheart on a NY subway. I was home by then and she invited her over. I instantly remembered our pact. It had been 10 years since I last saw her. We dated for a year with what I can only describe as a tempestuous relationship. I still felt however, that she was the one I was to marry. A few days before Christmas she called me to tell me that we would not see each other again. She had rekindled a relationship with another man from Boston. My heart felt like it would explode and the only balm available was the loving arms of my newborn nephew. Holding him tight released the pain of utter betrayal I felt in my chest and these regular hugs made the holiday season a bearable one.
I am thankful for this break up. It forced me to make a decision that would forever alter the direction of my life. A decision that to this day has given me everything I could ever need.
The year after graduating with a bachelor’s degree in acting was filled with as much rejection as there were auditions. I could not land an acting job in NY. I would get callbacks but no gigs. It was a dark and depressing time. Had I spent four years studying to be an actor with no prospects of a career? I worked in the World Trade Center- Tower 2 as a temp that year and passed the time wondering will I ever do anything great with my life. I worked there most of the year and did not care that there had been a terrorist bombing. Losing my childhood sweetheart was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. It was time to leave NY.
I am thankful for this period of deep depression and loneliness in NY. It forced me to look at making a change. Soon after she left me, I called the University of Missouri and set up an audition to enter the Master of Fine Arts program. I was headed to Kansas City. I had no idea at the time that my future wife was waiting for me. She had traveled as many miles as I had from the opposite direction and we were to meet in the middle. Describing what my wife means to me is like asking me to describe God. She is closer to me than any adjective or metaphor could articulate. My love for her is not something I feel as an outside force but is inexplicably intertwined with my very being. There is no denying it, she and I are one.
If I stop to look at the dark nights in my life, I am thankful for each and every one of them. They were not fun to experience but they each had a strong lesson to teach me and most importantly, they have brought me here with you now. Every experience of pain brought with it a deeper appreciation of joy and meaning, without exception.
During Thanksgiving dinner today at the home of one of our closest friends, we all went around the table and said one thing we were thankful for. The five children present went first. My six year old daughter said “I’m thankful for everything.” So am I.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 25 days
On the eve of Thanksgiving Day, I am ready to write about the real reason why I am doing this. First, let me explain what “this” is.
I have decided to resign my management position at a reputable university after being there for eight years and pursue a writing career. I have decided to share the last 60 days before resignation day with all who would find this blog. I am not talking about this blog at work and no one has come to me saying they have found it. On most days, I have no idea what I am going to write about even minutes before I sit in front of my computer. My intent is to show a play by play real life journey of dream fulfillment and manifestation.
So is this all about starting a writing career and selling millions of books? Well, that would be nice but that is not the real reason I am doing this.
46 years and three days ago, the country experienced a near fatal blow to its dream when President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated in Texas. After the death of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy five years later, millions of Americans feared that civil rights for all citizens would never become a reality. Can the fight continue without them?
100 years prior, another president, Abraham Lincoln was also assassinated and with it, the hopes and aspirations of many who had witnessed the birth of the Emancipation Proclamation. Fear captivated the hearts and mind of the populace. Can the tattered Union be saved?
We now find ourselves as a nation in a similar paralysis. The threat of a global economic meltdown has led many to postpone their dreams indefinitely. How many times did we hear the words during the past year, “the worst since the Great Depression, since the Great Depression, the Great Depression, Depression”. There are 2,600,000 pages with this term “The worst since the Great Depression” in Google’s search engine. We are afraid of losing our house, our jobs, or of going on vacation overseas. The “what ifs” in our lives are all consuming and we feel defeated. We all know someone who is in a job they hate and are watching the days tick by. The family does not get much attention because hating your job causes energy depletion and stress build up. So everything suffers and we are not living.
So what can we do about it? Gandhi said “Be the change you wish to see in the world”. Well, that is what I am attempting to do. I want to show everyone that it is possible to live a life full of possibilities than one full of fear. No matter how dire circumstances seem, there are forces at work in the universe that are working overtime to bring balance into your life.
It is obvious from the past 35 entries, that there is nothing easy about this process. I have had to face my greatest doubts and fears, but I have done so with an eye towards examples of faith and love. I have no choice but to begin to swim against this strong current. My vision is one in which everyone is living a life full of passion and complete unity between their gifts and life purpose. I believe we are all on this earth to further its evolution. The only power working against this goal is fear.
I also believe that Roosevelt had it right when he said “the only thing you have to fear is fear itself”. It is the greatest of all illusions. Since we do not know how much time we have left on this planet, my wish is that everyone makes the commitment to not let fear drive their actions. This commitment requires that we face our perceptions of fear with kindness and non-judgment, learn from them and decide to act out of our true authentic power.
Just like the thirteen colonies overcame their mathematically certain fate of defeat at the hands of the British by acting in spite of fear to an improbable victory, so too I would like no less than the same commitment: to believe in spite of our economic indicators and move to that the new State, seek that fulfilling career, write that memoir, go for that PhD, launch that website, and marry that girl! Yes, I have reached the point of no return. I will quit my job on December 21, 2009 (three years to the day before the end of the Mayan Calendar, the most fear-injected date in recorded history, mere coincidence) and launch my writing career.
I have decided to resign my management position at a reputable university after being there for eight years and pursue a writing career. I have decided to share the last 60 days before resignation day with all who would find this blog. I am not talking about this blog at work and no one has come to me saying they have found it. On most days, I have no idea what I am going to write about even minutes before I sit in front of my computer. My intent is to show a play by play real life journey of dream fulfillment and manifestation.
So is this all about starting a writing career and selling millions of books? Well, that would be nice but that is not the real reason I am doing this.
46 years and three days ago, the country experienced a near fatal blow to its dream when President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated in Texas. After the death of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy five years later, millions of Americans feared that civil rights for all citizens would never become a reality. Can the fight continue without them?
100 years prior, another president, Abraham Lincoln was also assassinated and with it, the hopes and aspirations of many who had witnessed the birth of the Emancipation Proclamation. Fear captivated the hearts and mind of the populace. Can the tattered Union be saved?
We now find ourselves as a nation in a similar paralysis. The threat of a global economic meltdown has led many to postpone their dreams indefinitely. How many times did we hear the words during the past year, “the worst since the Great Depression, since the Great Depression, the Great Depression, Depression”. There are 2,600,000 pages with this term “The worst since the Great Depression” in Google’s search engine. We are afraid of losing our house, our jobs, or of going on vacation overseas. The “what ifs” in our lives are all consuming and we feel defeated. We all know someone who is in a job they hate and are watching the days tick by. The family does not get much attention because hating your job causes energy depletion and stress build up. So everything suffers and we are not living.
So what can we do about it? Gandhi said “Be the change you wish to see in the world”. Well, that is what I am attempting to do. I want to show everyone that it is possible to live a life full of possibilities than one full of fear. No matter how dire circumstances seem, there are forces at work in the universe that are working overtime to bring balance into your life.
It is obvious from the past 35 entries, that there is nothing easy about this process. I have had to face my greatest doubts and fears, but I have done so with an eye towards examples of faith and love. I have no choice but to begin to swim against this strong current. My vision is one in which everyone is living a life full of passion and complete unity between their gifts and life purpose. I believe we are all on this earth to further its evolution. The only power working against this goal is fear.
I also believe that Roosevelt had it right when he said “the only thing you have to fear is fear itself”. It is the greatest of all illusions. Since we do not know how much time we have left on this planet, my wish is that everyone makes the commitment to not let fear drive their actions. This commitment requires that we face our perceptions of fear with kindness and non-judgment, learn from them and decide to act out of our true authentic power.
Just like the thirteen colonies overcame their mathematically certain fate of defeat at the hands of the British by acting in spite of fear to an improbable victory, so too I would like no less than the same commitment: to believe in spite of our economic indicators and move to that the new State, seek that fulfilling career, write that memoir, go for that PhD, launch that website, and marry that girl! Yes, I have reached the point of no return. I will quit my job on December 21, 2009 (three years to the day before the end of the Mayan Calendar, the most fear-injected date in recorded history, mere coincidence) and launch my writing career.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 26 days
What a fascinating dichotomy! There is so much movement around my new life: I am hearing of groups getting together and discussing my blog, people are letting me know about contacts they have with established writers who might be able to help, I have an interview with the travel agency that could provide a flexible, work from home opportunity, I have gained fluidity in my writing and have made deep connections with my loved ones through this blog. Yet at the same time, I am so ingrained in my work right now. As we head towards the start of the spring semester in January, the work that needs to be done is overwhelming. By the sheer number of projects I am involved in, I know I am valued by my co-workers and that I will be missed. 26 days is not a long time. I am trying to do all I can to set up for success those I leave behind. Not enough time.
I feel like I have reached the point of no return, watching my past existence dematerialize and a new exciting life taking shape. I wish I had the physics background to explain what I feel. There is so much illusion constructed by our minds. We live with the illusion that time is constant and linear, that cause and effect should always make sense. We trick our minds into believing that the past equals the future, that if a risk did not work out in the past then it is certain to fail in the future. We believe that we have no choice but to carry past hurts from our childhood into our present life, even though we had such a limited capacity for coping with our feelings as a child. We create these steel fortresses in our minds of limiting thoughts: “I’m too old”, “I’m too young”,” I don’t have a degree”,” I have many degrees but I can’t apply them”, “What will my family think?” “I am too sick to be happy”, “No one has had it worse than me”. As Byron Katie would ask: “Do you absolutely know it’s true?”
I have decided to live under the premise that my thoughts and feelings are just passing stuff, only as real as I decide to make them. What I focus on determines the quality of my life. If I focus on the magic moments, then I get more of them. I can decide to believe that I am more than who I have become. (I love the Lion King!) Once I clear out my old waste, I have room for new thought forms to appear that are empowering and of a higher vibration. I then start noticing that I can create my best life now.
The real secret is in understanding the impact that feeling has on universal forces. When I feel as if I have already received what I want to attract and there is no underlying subconscious anti-feeling that is counteracting my desire, then I am in flow and events happen to support my new vision.
This is why I have spent so much time these past 33 days recognizing and purging old habitual patterns of thought that do not serve me and just contradict what I want. So I write about my insecurities, sit with them without beating myself up and watch them pass like Chinese food. I then create some space and then replace them with empowering thoughts and feelings that support my new life. The most amazing part of this journey is learning to stop judging myself. My partner at work has a saying: “It is what it is.” Everything we cognitively know about reality is just a vehicle. This earth is hurtling through space carrying us, our bodies are moving about carrying us, our mind acts like a neat repository of our thoughts, carrying them around from place to place. So if it is all a vehicle, then why don’t we just enjoy the ride? It is what it is. You know how I know? Because it is. This moment cannot be any different than it is. It’s no surprise that when Moses asked God, “What is your name?” God answered: “I am that I am”. It is what it is.
So work will most likely be crazy next month. We will meet our goals and my last day will be a happy one. Unless something distracts me, tomorrow I will write about why I am really doing this. By the way, I have not forgotten about what I wrote in the first entry. I have discovered a treasure and I can’t wait to tell you what it is. I will however wait till day 1. It’s a doozy!
I feel like I have reached the point of no return, watching my past existence dematerialize and a new exciting life taking shape. I wish I had the physics background to explain what I feel. There is so much illusion constructed by our minds. We live with the illusion that time is constant and linear, that cause and effect should always make sense. We trick our minds into believing that the past equals the future, that if a risk did not work out in the past then it is certain to fail in the future. We believe that we have no choice but to carry past hurts from our childhood into our present life, even though we had such a limited capacity for coping with our feelings as a child. We create these steel fortresses in our minds of limiting thoughts: “I’m too old”, “I’m too young”,” I don’t have a degree”,” I have many degrees but I can’t apply them”, “What will my family think?” “I am too sick to be happy”, “No one has had it worse than me”. As Byron Katie would ask: “Do you absolutely know it’s true?”
I have decided to live under the premise that my thoughts and feelings are just passing stuff, only as real as I decide to make them. What I focus on determines the quality of my life. If I focus on the magic moments, then I get more of them. I can decide to believe that I am more than who I have become. (I love the Lion King!) Once I clear out my old waste, I have room for new thought forms to appear that are empowering and of a higher vibration. I then start noticing that I can create my best life now.
The real secret is in understanding the impact that feeling has on universal forces. When I feel as if I have already received what I want to attract and there is no underlying subconscious anti-feeling that is counteracting my desire, then I am in flow and events happen to support my new vision.
This is why I have spent so much time these past 33 days recognizing and purging old habitual patterns of thought that do not serve me and just contradict what I want. So I write about my insecurities, sit with them without beating myself up and watch them pass like Chinese food. I then create some space and then replace them with empowering thoughts and feelings that support my new life. The most amazing part of this journey is learning to stop judging myself. My partner at work has a saying: “It is what it is.” Everything we cognitively know about reality is just a vehicle. This earth is hurtling through space carrying us, our bodies are moving about carrying us, our mind acts like a neat repository of our thoughts, carrying them around from place to place. So if it is all a vehicle, then why don’t we just enjoy the ride? It is what it is. You know how I know? Because it is. This moment cannot be any different than it is. It’s no surprise that when Moses asked God, “What is your name?” God answered: “I am that I am”. It is what it is.
So work will most likely be crazy next month. We will meet our goals and my last day will be a happy one. Unless something distracts me, tomorrow I will write about why I am really doing this. By the way, I have not forgotten about what I wrote in the first entry. I have discovered a treasure and I can’t wait to tell you what it is. I will however wait till day 1. It’s a doozy!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 27 days
Eight days ago I wrote about beginning a nine day prayer journey that has in the past led to a death. I wrote:
“My co-worker’s nephew is in an intensive care unit. He has developed a blood infection two years after being diagnosed with cancer. After so many chemotherapy battles won, the outcome of this one feels uncertain. He is my age and also has three young daughters which makes me feel uniquely close to his plight. One of my assistant directors has received bad news about her health today. I don’t have the details but I don’t like the feeling I am getting. My sister’s father in law who was pronounced dead two weeks ago is in hospice care. No one expects it will be long. My wife’s grandfather is only ingesting ensure. No solid foods. At 94, his days are not many. My co-worker’s dad received news that there is no sign of brain activity in the area where there is atrophy. She is reaching out to me. Who do I focus on?”
As I wrote eight days ago, I have kept my promise to spend time in daily prayer even though I did not know who it was for. The past eight days have been incredible. I have felt the energy of my co-worker’s nephew as he guaranteed me that his time has not yet come. Like a child who had seen Santa Claus, I immediately told my co-worker. “He’s not ready to go. He is such strong guy.” “Did you have another premonition” she asked. “Something like that” I said. We went this weekend to a fundraiser in his honor and it was a sight to behold. So many people showed up to show their love for this 42 year old with three beautiful daughters. His family fed us all breakfast and Polish music was played all morning. My wife and I brought my own daughters to bask in the joy of the moment. My oldest daughter has been praying for him by name every night for the past two years. He has seen recovery after recovery and it looks like even with Stage 4 Cancer, he has at least one more in him. So at about day 4 of 9, I realized these prayers for the dying were not for him.
Last night I felt the familiar energy flow and saw in my minds eye a vision of an older woman who I knew as a child. She was a neighborhood homeless woman near the Bronx home where we lived for over 20 years. My mother used to have her over for dinner as often as she could. “Do you have rice?” she would ask my mother. I cannot begin to tell you how incredibly obvious the answer is in a Puerto Rican household. I would sit down with her and watch her eat. There was something so magical about having her visit. You knew she loved my mother and my mother in turn, treated her like one of the family. I knew she had died many years ago. I did not know why someone from the Bronx was visiting me. She did not say anything. She looked as destitute as I remembered her. I completed my seventh day of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy and went to sleep.
I woke up to an email from my sister this morning that her father in law had finally left this world at 3:30am. I now know why I was praying for the dying. Perhaps the connection to the homeless woman was geographical. My brother in law’s father died in the Bronx just like the woman who visited me last night. Who knows.
I want my brother in law to know that those that leave us behind can feel as close to us as when they were here. It is common to believe that they are watching us, but we are also watching them, searching for a rift in our perceptions of reality and yearning for a taste of heaven while on earth. Every time you take a moment to quiet the mind and raise your awareness to memories of those you love, they do the same. You meet between worlds.
My brother in law said to me today “I don’t know why, but I feel like there is something I need to do with my life. Something is missing. I don’t know what it is.” I told him a bit about this blog. My sister had not shared much as he was occupied with his father’s illness. In his vulnerable state, struggling with the shock of death, he said to me words that make my life worth living: He said to me “You know, I always feel good when I talk to you.” I love you too brother.
“My co-worker’s nephew is in an intensive care unit. He has developed a blood infection two years after being diagnosed with cancer. After so many chemotherapy battles won, the outcome of this one feels uncertain. He is my age and also has three young daughters which makes me feel uniquely close to his plight. One of my assistant directors has received bad news about her health today. I don’t have the details but I don’t like the feeling I am getting. My sister’s father in law who was pronounced dead two weeks ago is in hospice care. No one expects it will be long. My wife’s grandfather is only ingesting ensure. No solid foods. At 94, his days are not many. My co-worker’s dad received news that there is no sign of brain activity in the area where there is atrophy. She is reaching out to me. Who do I focus on?”
As I wrote eight days ago, I have kept my promise to spend time in daily prayer even though I did not know who it was for. The past eight days have been incredible. I have felt the energy of my co-worker’s nephew as he guaranteed me that his time has not yet come. Like a child who had seen Santa Claus, I immediately told my co-worker. “He’s not ready to go. He is such strong guy.” “Did you have another premonition” she asked. “Something like that” I said. We went this weekend to a fundraiser in his honor and it was a sight to behold. So many people showed up to show their love for this 42 year old with three beautiful daughters. His family fed us all breakfast and Polish music was played all morning. My wife and I brought my own daughters to bask in the joy of the moment. My oldest daughter has been praying for him by name every night for the past two years. He has seen recovery after recovery and it looks like even with Stage 4 Cancer, he has at least one more in him. So at about day 4 of 9, I realized these prayers for the dying were not for him.
Last night I felt the familiar energy flow and saw in my minds eye a vision of an older woman who I knew as a child. She was a neighborhood homeless woman near the Bronx home where we lived for over 20 years. My mother used to have her over for dinner as often as she could. “Do you have rice?” she would ask my mother. I cannot begin to tell you how incredibly obvious the answer is in a Puerto Rican household. I would sit down with her and watch her eat. There was something so magical about having her visit. You knew she loved my mother and my mother in turn, treated her like one of the family. I knew she had died many years ago. I did not know why someone from the Bronx was visiting me. She did not say anything. She looked as destitute as I remembered her. I completed my seventh day of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy and went to sleep.
I woke up to an email from my sister this morning that her father in law had finally left this world at 3:30am. I now know why I was praying for the dying. Perhaps the connection to the homeless woman was geographical. My brother in law’s father died in the Bronx just like the woman who visited me last night. Who knows.
I want my brother in law to know that those that leave us behind can feel as close to us as when they were here. It is common to believe that they are watching us, but we are also watching them, searching for a rift in our perceptions of reality and yearning for a taste of heaven while on earth. Every time you take a moment to quiet the mind and raise your awareness to memories of those you love, they do the same. You meet between worlds.
My brother in law said to me today “I don’t know why, but I feel like there is something I need to do with my life. Something is missing. I don’t know what it is.” I told him a bit about this blog. My sister had not shared much as he was occupied with his father’s illness. In his vulnerable state, struggling with the shock of death, he said to me words that make my life worth living: He said to me “You know, I always feel good when I talk to you.” I love you too brother.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 28 days
Does quitting my job to follow my dream make me a quitter? This process reminds me of my decision to leave acting after identifying with a performer’s life for almost twenty years. After going through a bachelor of fine arts conservatory in Boston and a master of fine arts one in Missouri, I had a choice: make a career of it or leave it all behind. It was a difficult choice because everyone knew me as the actor and very little else. I had done over a hundred theatre productions by the time I was twenty-five years old. I had been a student of human behavior, voice and speech production, body mechanics and classical theatre history. I studied the method of physical action, practicing clown technique and Greek tableaus. The expectation was that after high school musicals, a bachelors and masters degree, I was sure to continue. Well, there was only one problem. I wasn’t free. I lost the enjoyment of performing and was instead caught in a web of self criticism and tension.
This was never clearer than in my second year of my masters programs. I was cast in the role of Cleante, the voice of reason in a French Comedy called Tartuffe by Moliere. It was an appropriate role for me at the time. I was totally left-brain so an analytical, technically correct, talking-head in super tight French neoclassical attire with a gargantuan wig was perfect for me. Oh the wig!
This role however sent me into a deep depression. I could not breathe and it wasn’t because of the costume or the 47 hair pins keeping my wig in place. I just could not be spontaneous and this lack of freedom was reflected in my voice, my movements and my expression of feeling. In a nutshell: I thought I was awful and felt everyone knew it. Opening night arrived as did my first long speech. (I had many in the play). To illustrate how “so not on” I was that night, the hair pins decided to steal the show. At every pause I would take, a hair pin would fall to the hard wood floor- tink. It happened over and over and over again followed by snickers from the audience every time. Okay, so it is funny now, but it wasn’t then.
I just wasn’t happy. I had lost my passion to perform and although everyone said it was in my blood, I made the decision my final year to leave acting for good. Why continue doing it if you can’t soar.
Not until one last play. This time it was the role of Malvolio in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. By the time I had gotten cast in the role of the deluded, puritanical manservant, I had already informed my colleagues and my directors that I was quitting acting. Having made this decision freed up my creativity enough to enjoy some of the rehearsal process.
There was one night when everything changed. We were doing a run-thru of the show and my director had one note for me before we began. He elected to give it in front of all my peers and every one of my third year graduate teachers: “Dennis, I want everything you do tonight, to be done for the very first time. Do not do any physical action either with your voice or your body that you have ever done before. Do you think you can do that?” My mouth dropped. Complete and total spontaneity? You have got to be kidding. His message was simple: Ignore your left brain. Ignore what you think you know and stop identifying with being the doer. Use your right brain that houses all creative and intuitive impulses and allow yourself to be an instrument instead of the actor. As my first scene began, I felt like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom. Jones took a step into the abyss to reach the Holy Grail and the bridge then appeared. I gave the best performance of my life. I had no idea what would come next and the moment always arrived. And then the next, and the next.
As I look back at the last twelve years since I quit following a career in acting, I know that the bridge has always appeared. It was the right decision and I now have faith that even though I don’t see all the steps coming together yet, I will follow my director’s advice. I will not look back to old patterns or past mistakes. I will not try to rally the forces of worry to ensure security for tomorrow. I will to do everything for the very first time.
This was never clearer than in my second year of my masters programs. I was cast in the role of Cleante, the voice of reason in a French Comedy called Tartuffe by Moliere. It was an appropriate role for me at the time. I was totally left-brain so an analytical, technically correct, talking-head in super tight French neoclassical attire with a gargantuan wig was perfect for me. Oh the wig!
This role however sent me into a deep depression. I could not breathe and it wasn’t because of the costume or the 47 hair pins keeping my wig in place. I just could not be spontaneous and this lack of freedom was reflected in my voice, my movements and my expression of feeling. In a nutshell: I thought I was awful and felt everyone knew it. Opening night arrived as did my first long speech. (I had many in the play). To illustrate how “so not on” I was that night, the hair pins decided to steal the show. At every pause I would take, a hair pin would fall to the hard wood floor- tink. It happened over and over and over again followed by snickers from the audience every time. Okay, so it is funny now, but it wasn’t then.
I just wasn’t happy. I had lost my passion to perform and although everyone said it was in my blood, I made the decision my final year to leave acting for good. Why continue doing it if you can’t soar.
Not until one last play. This time it was the role of Malvolio in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. By the time I had gotten cast in the role of the deluded, puritanical manservant, I had already informed my colleagues and my directors that I was quitting acting. Having made this decision freed up my creativity enough to enjoy some of the rehearsal process.
There was one night when everything changed. We were doing a run-thru of the show and my director had one note for me before we began. He elected to give it in front of all my peers and every one of my third year graduate teachers: “Dennis, I want everything you do tonight, to be done for the very first time. Do not do any physical action either with your voice or your body that you have ever done before. Do you think you can do that?” My mouth dropped. Complete and total spontaneity? You have got to be kidding. His message was simple: Ignore your left brain. Ignore what you think you know and stop identifying with being the doer. Use your right brain that houses all creative and intuitive impulses and allow yourself to be an instrument instead of the actor. As my first scene began, I felt like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom. Jones took a step into the abyss to reach the Holy Grail and the bridge then appeared. I gave the best performance of my life. I had no idea what would come next and the moment always arrived. And then the next, and the next.
As I look back at the last twelve years since I quit following a career in acting, I know that the bridge has always appeared. It was the right decision and I now have faith that even though I don’t see all the steps coming together yet, I will follow my director’s advice. I will not look back to old patterns or past mistakes. I will not try to rally the forces of worry to ensure security for tomorrow. I will to do everything for the very first time.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 29 days
You have read some of my thoughts on why I am calling my first book “The Superman Effect.” But why “My Quest for the Moment When Everything Changes”? What is this moment I refer to and what does it mean for everything to change? What changes?
I had heard it said that if you want to find out what your passion is, look at the content of the books you read for mere pleasure. I realized that my book shelves were full of autobiographies depicting a chronological account of a person’s life and times or memoirs with more of a specific focus and context.
Perhaps because I was an actor and had teachers that would say “find the dramatic potential in every moment”, I always looked for that transformational event or turning point in a story where there was a clear before and after. After this “moment” a character’s personality was forever altered and decisions were deliberate. After this moment, a character felt different, had recognition of a higher calling and was perceived differently by others.
You find this moment clearly depicted in plays. Shakespeare wrote in this moment in almost every one of his plays. The banishment of Cordelia in King Lear, Hamlet’s vision of his father, Malvolio’s delusion after receiving Lady Olivia’s letter in Twelfth Night. The most dramatic accounts however, are those told by the person who experiences the moment. This is why for the past 15 years, I have collected many true life stories in the author’s own words.
For many years now, my outer circumstances have seemed picture perfect. I have a harmonious marriage, a stable job, healthy and happy children, loving friends, a home in a really nice and affluent neighborhood. Yet, I have always sensed dissatisfaction with my inner life and a pursuit for a positive life changing experience that takes me out of my ego traps and brings purpose and clarity to my life.
There are so many words in the English language that describe the moment: Epiphany, Awakening, Inspiration, Intuition, Metamorphosis, Realization, Actualization, Transformation, Revelation, and yes, I guess you can add Enlightenment. If a book had any of these words in its title, I was buying it. I have been endlessly searching and much of the insights that I have learned throughout the years have been born out of this quest. So why not write a book about it? Why not tell the world that this moment does not just come to a select few but to all of us and it does not always have to come out of crisis when we have sabotaged ourselves so much that we hit rock bottom. It can come because we have made a decision to be open to it, to look at the beauty and lawfulness in everyday life, to embrace all of life including our shadow side.
My shadow side: This is the side that I worked tirelessly to keep in the closet until just 30 days ago. It is the side that could never have just one drink, the side that was furious at his dead father for being so abusive and taking away his childhood, the side that was afraid of doing the same to his own kids. My shadow side is the side that judged people as incompetent, lazy, manipulative, and controlling as a projected image of my own insecurities. Embracing this side means kicking it out of the closet for the world to see as just an aspect, no less prominent that the better angel of my nature. Okay, so I get angry, am a glutton, lazy, manipulative and controlling at times. Who isn’t? It’s not all of me. It’s called being human. The harder I worked at denying or better yet, conquering these aspects of myself, the more they would rear their ugly heads and take over. Guilt would set in, which would lead to more self-destructing behavior and the crazy cycle would just continue. Guilt has never served me. By accepting that my shadow side is just passing through and will only stick around if I resist it, fear it or try to deny it, then I allow room for my heart to remain open and welcome in grace.
Back to the moment: It will come. We can’t help but grow and evolve so trust that around the corner things will become clearer. The fastest way to catch up to your moment is to keep dreaming and let go of fear. My vision is that this blog helps you see in your own life the best road map to let go of fear. When we let go of fear, then everything indeed changes. That is my hope.
I had heard it said that if you want to find out what your passion is, look at the content of the books you read for mere pleasure. I realized that my book shelves were full of autobiographies depicting a chronological account of a person’s life and times or memoirs with more of a specific focus and context.
Perhaps because I was an actor and had teachers that would say “find the dramatic potential in every moment”, I always looked for that transformational event or turning point in a story where there was a clear before and after. After this “moment” a character’s personality was forever altered and decisions were deliberate. After this moment, a character felt different, had recognition of a higher calling and was perceived differently by others.
You find this moment clearly depicted in plays. Shakespeare wrote in this moment in almost every one of his plays. The banishment of Cordelia in King Lear, Hamlet’s vision of his father, Malvolio’s delusion after receiving Lady Olivia’s letter in Twelfth Night. The most dramatic accounts however, are those told by the person who experiences the moment. This is why for the past 15 years, I have collected many true life stories in the author’s own words.
For many years now, my outer circumstances have seemed picture perfect. I have a harmonious marriage, a stable job, healthy and happy children, loving friends, a home in a really nice and affluent neighborhood. Yet, I have always sensed dissatisfaction with my inner life and a pursuit for a positive life changing experience that takes me out of my ego traps and brings purpose and clarity to my life.
There are so many words in the English language that describe the moment: Epiphany, Awakening, Inspiration, Intuition, Metamorphosis, Realization, Actualization, Transformation, Revelation, and yes, I guess you can add Enlightenment. If a book had any of these words in its title, I was buying it. I have been endlessly searching and much of the insights that I have learned throughout the years have been born out of this quest. So why not write a book about it? Why not tell the world that this moment does not just come to a select few but to all of us and it does not always have to come out of crisis when we have sabotaged ourselves so much that we hit rock bottom. It can come because we have made a decision to be open to it, to look at the beauty and lawfulness in everyday life, to embrace all of life including our shadow side.
My shadow side: This is the side that I worked tirelessly to keep in the closet until just 30 days ago. It is the side that could never have just one drink, the side that was furious at his dead father for being so abusive and taking away his childhood, the side that was afraid of doing the same to his own kids. My shadow side is the side that judged people as incompetent, lazy, manipulative, and controlling as a projected image of my own insecurities. Embracing this side means kicking it out of the closet for the world to see as just an aspect, no less prominent that the better angel of my nature. Okay, so I get angry, am a glutton, lazy, manipulative and controlling at times. Who isn’t? It’s not all of me. It’s called being human. The harder I worked at denying or better yet, conquering these aspects of myself, the more they would rear their ugly heads and take over. Guilt would set in, which would lead to more self-destructing behavior and the crazy cycle would just continue. Guilt has never served me. By accepting that my shadow side is just passing through and will only stick around if I resist it, fear it or try to deny it, then I allow room for my heart to remain open and welcome in grace.
Back to the moment: It will come. We can’t help but grow and evolve so trust that around the corner things will become clearer. The fastest way to catch up to your moment is to keep dreaming and let go of fear. My vision is that this blog helps you see in your own life the best road map to let go of fear. When we let go of fear, then everything indeed changes. That is my hope.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 30 days
The day started as most mornings do with coffee talk between my wife and I. My sports savvy wife said to me: “We’re at 30 days till you resign. This is the half-time stretch for you.” “Yes, sweetheart, this is the half-time stretch.” I shared with her my desire to have a part-time job that will keep me feeling like I was contributing income through work while I write. “I wish I could find another job that I could do from home between my writing.” I said. “You will hon,” she said. “You will get everything you want.” We continued with a fun conversation about wanting to travel back to Italy next year.
Our first trip to Italy was in March of 2003. My wife was six months pregnant with our first daughter. We had purchased the tickets months in advance and had picture perfect timing. We were set to leave March 21, 2003. The day arrived accompanied by a massive snow storm in Denver, the beginning of the war in Iraq and the SARS epidemic in full swing. As you know by now, we are no strangers to throwing caution to the wind, so we did not let minor disturbances stand in our way. The airport reopened the day after and Lufthansa called with information about a flight for us heading to Frankfurt in two hours and then to Rome. Our close friend and neighbor quickly helped us put our luggage in her Honda Hatchback and off we went to DIA. My muscles were sore from all the tightening as I feared we would slip and slide down the highway. I have never been a fan of flying on a plane and I thought the worse: “What if there is massive turbulence? What if it gets diverted to Iraq? What if someone with SARS coughs on my wife? I need my mommy. I know, I’ll say the Rosary!”
While in the airport’s men’s room, I ran into another friend who was also traveling to Rome with his wife for a marathon. We had not planned to be on the same flight but with all the cancellations due to the storm, suddenly the trip became less tense for me and more enjoyable for my wife. Our friends owned a coffee shop in our neighborhood and had provided there a venue for Italian lessons which I fully took advantage of. It would be fun to hook up in Italy. We didn’t try to force it though. We did not exchange hotel information. All we said was “See you in Roma!”
A day later, we of course ran into them in front of the Pantheon. We took that as a sign that we should see more of each other. We had Gelato on Piazza Navona and cheered them on while they finished the Rome marathon. These are go-getters and even acquiesced at my request to meet us for dinner at the top of the Spanish Steps a few hours after lactic acid had set in. Sometimes I have no awareness.
Ah Roma. Que bella citta!
We have since traveled to Puerto Rico with the same friends and have become business partners as investors in a Sushi Restaurant for the past five years. The Italian coffee shop that they owned in northwest Denver was my “Cheers bar”. It was the place where many of my dreams were conceived and everyone knew my name. The Italian classes that I took there in preparation for my trip would resurface today in a very synchronistic way. Do you remember my morning coffee talk with my wife? Our dreams to travel back to Italy and my wish to get a part-time job working from home while I write? At 3pm today I received this email from the travel agency responsible for the Italian classes I took six years ago:
“We are looking for 3 experienced sales people to join our marketing manager to sell group tours to Italy.
This person should have some knowledge of Italy and Europe and like to travel, although we will train. Tour destinations include Italy , France , Croatia and Germany . This is a perfect part or full time position for anyone who wants to make their own hours and work from home.
Must have a reliable vehicle, computer with Broadband access and cell phone
Flexible hours
Opportunity to travel to Italy at discounted rates
Must be professional and have 3 years experience in sales and able to meet monthly quotas
Serious candidates only, this is not an opportunity for someone who just wants to travel to Italy
Must be detail oriented, highly motivated, self starter, and creative
Please email your resume to xxx. Resumes accepted through December 8, 2009”
The next 30 days will bring serendipitous events that will prove to us all beyond a shadow of a doubt that once you empty yourself of fear-based baggage and dare to act on your dreams, you can create your own reality. This is when it gets fun!
Our first trip to Italy was in March of 2003. My wife was six months pregnant with our first daughter. We had purchased the tickets months in advance and had picture perfect timing. We were set to leave March 21, 2003. The day arrived accompanied by a massive snow storm in Denver, the beginning of the war in Iraq and the SARS epidemic in full swing. As you know by now, we are no strangers to throwing caution to the wind, so we did not let minor disturbances stand in our way. The airport reopened the day after and Lufthansa called with information about a flight for us heading to Frankfurt in two hours and then to Rome. Our close friend and neighbor quickly helped us put our luggage in her Honda Hatchback and off we went to DIA. My muscles were sore from all the tightening as I feared we would slip and slide down the highway. I have never been a fan of flying on a plane and I thought the worse: “What if there is massive turbulence? What if it gets diverted to Iraq? What if someone with SARS coughs on my wife? I need my mommy. I know, I’ll say the Rosary!”
While in the airport’s men’s room, I ran into another friend who was also traveling to Rome with his wife for a marathon. We had not planned to be on the same flight but with all the cancellations due to the storm, suddenly the trip became less tense for me and more enjoyable for my wife. Our friends owned a coffee shop in our neighborhood and had provided there a venue for Italian lessons which I fully took advantage of. It would be fun to hook up in Italy. We didn’t try to force it though. We did not exchange hotel information. All we said was “See you in Roma!”
A day later, we of course ran into them in front of the Pantheon. We took that as a sign that we should see more of each other. We had Gelato on Piazza Navona and cheered them on while they finished the Rome marathon. These are go-getters and even acquiesced at my request to meet us for dinner at the top of the Spanish Steps a few hours after lactic acid had set in. Sometimes I have no awareness.
Ah Roma. Que bella citta!
We have since traveled to Puerto Rico with the same friends and have become business partners as investors in a Sushi Restaurant for the past five years. The Italian coffee shop that they owned in northwest Denver was my “Cheers bar”. It was the place where many of my dreams were conceived and everyone knew my name. The Italian classes that I took there in preparation for my trip would resurface today in a very synchronistic way. Do you remember my morning coffee talk with my wife? Our dreams to travel back to Italy and my wish to get a part-time job working from home while I write? At 3pm today I received this email from the travel agency responsible for the Italian classes I took six years ago:
“We are looking for 3 experienced sales people to join our marketing manager to sell group tours to Italy.
This person should have some knowledge of Italy and Europe and like to travel, although we will train. Tour destinations include Italy , France , Croatia and Germany . This is a perfect part or full time position for anyone who wants to make their own hours and work from home.
Must have a reliable vehicle, computer with Broadband access and cell phone
Flexible hours
Opportunity to travel to Italy at discounted rates
Must be professional and have 3 years experience in sales and able to meet monthly quotas
Serious candidates only, this is not an opportunity for someone who just wants to travel to Italy
Must be detail oriented, highly motivated, self starter, and creative
Please email your resume to xxx. Resumes accepted through December 8, 2009”
The next 30 days will bring serendipitous events that will prove to us all beyond a shadow of a doubt that once you empty yourself of fear-based baggage and dare to act on your dreams, you can create your own reality. This is when it gets fun!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 31 days
So why did I decide to call my first book The Superman Effect: My Quest for the Moment When Everything Changes?
We'll save "My quest for the moment when everything changes" for another day. Let’s just take today why The Superman Effect? Is it because I'm faster than a speeding bullet? Well, I did run three half marathons but the fastest run had a snail’s pace 12-minute split, so that’s not it.
Am I able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? In my dreams! Literally, in my dreams. I have flying dreams all the time and they are awesome. Superman has been a motif in my life ever since I was eight years old. I mentioned earlier that my mother took me to see Superman the movie when I was eight. Superman became my instant action hero of choice. My mother bought me a Superman rubber action figure and I would not let it leave my sight. Then came the day we moved on up from our small apartment on Fordham Road to our first house in the North Bronx. My parents were busy packing, my sisters were staying out of their way and I was playing with my Superman action figure. I stuck my hand out the window of our 8th floor flat and pretended to guide Superman’s flight. Now beneath our apartment, way down on the ground floor, I could see that there was an enormous heap of construction material. Like Buzz Light Year in Toy Story, Superman must have thought this is his time to show off and leave the secure hands of his father. He slipped right through my fingers and headed straight down to landfill.
My heart stopped. What was I to do? Even as an eight year old, I knew there was no sense even telling my parents I had dropped my greatest treasure. There was nothing they could do. I guess they could have bought me another toy but I did not even consider the option. I looked down and saw where it landed. I did not cry, I wept. I took a hiatus from my fascination with Superman. I felt like he had left me and I no longer had any use for him. We would no longer play together. At least not until May 17, 2009.
When the scene from the movie when Clark Kent became Superman flashed before my eyes that day, it was as if my action figure found his way back to his boyhood friend. I could not contain my excitement as I sat in front of my computer and started typing the words:
The Superman Effect
My Quest for the Moment When Everything Changes
By Dennis Rodriguez
May 17, 2009
Since then a few other scenes from the movie have played an important role in my journey towards Resignation Day. I’ll recount one more.
One day in August, I was at my daughter’s swimming class and I was drawn to a little boy on a leash guided by his mother. I immediately felt a strong pull to pay attention to his every step and so I watched him. He looked as if he had a malformed mouth and what seemed to look like a tube tied to his mid-section. Suddenly the little boy laid down on the fitness center floor and did not move. His mother did not miss a beat. “Sweetheart, are you hungry?” She took out some sort of electronic measurement device and proceeded to feed him liquid through the tube by his waist. “Is your son diabetic?” I asked. “No, he was born with a congenital heart condition and the reflux keeps him from being able to eat through his mouth.” My heart sank. His mother seemed so peaceful and accepting. She understood that she could still love her son and that made everything ok. As soon as the mother was done feeding, the boy popped up and began to move about. His energy had returned as quickly as it had left.
I could not get the little boy out of my mind. A few days later, I was meditating on the little boy with the intention of praying for a healing and had a profound experience. I saw in my mind’s eye an embryo. The embryo's life was at a fork in the road, the point in which either organ health or malformation was possible. Electricity ran through my body as I realized that what I was experiencing at some energetic level was a past moment in time when the little boy’s malformation first took place. I watched as the healthy choice was manifested. It brought intense energy movement throughout my entire body. I next had another image come to mind from the movie Superman: This time when Superman loses it after finding Lois Lane, lifeless in the earthquake rubble. He screams and flies high above the earth causing the earth to spin in opposite direction and go back in time to the moment before the earthquake in the hopes of saving her. I immediately saw the connection.
Now before you wonder whether I’ve flown with Superman over the cookoo’s nest, let me say that I have not seen the little boy again. I have no idea whether there was an actual healing. I do know that it brought me closer to the little boy’s energy and with it, a sense of peace. Superman reminds me that now is the time to play, to remember my flying dreams, to time travel and to serve.
"And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven"- Jesus, Mathew 18:3
We'll save "My quest for the moment when everything changes" for another day. Let’s just take today why The Superman Effect? Is it because I'm faster than a speeding bullet? Well, I did run three half marathons but the fastest run had a snail’s pace 12-minute split, so that’s not it.
Am I able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? In my dreams! Literally, in my dreams. I have flying dreams all the time and they are awesome. Superman has been a motif in my life ever since I was eight years old. I mentioned earlier that my mother took me to see Superman the movie when I was eight. Superman became my instant action hero of choice. My mother bought me a Superman rubber action figure and I would not let it leave my sight. Then came the day we moved on up from our small apartment on Fordham Road to our first house in the North Bronx. My parents were busy packing, my sisters were staying out of their way and I was playing with my Superman action figure. I stuck my hand out the window of our 8th floor flat and pretended to guide Superman’s flight. Now beneath our apartment, way down on the ground floor, I could see that there was an enormous heap of construction material. Like Buzz Light Year in Toy Story, Superman must have thought this is his time to show off and leave the secure hands of his father. He slipped right through my fingers and headed straight down to landfill.
My heart stopped. What was I to do? Even as an eight year old, I knew there was no sense even telling my parents I had dropped my greatest treasure. There was nothing they could do. I guess they could have bought me another toy but I did not even consider the option. I looked down and saw where it landed. I did not cry, I wept. I took a hiatus from my fascination with Superman. I felt like he had left me and I no longer had any use for him. We would no longer play together. At least not until May 17, 2009.
When the scene from the movie when Clark Kent became Superman flashed before my eyes that day, it was as if my action figure found his way back to his boyhood friend. I could not contain my excitement as I sat in front of my computer and started typing the words:
The Superman Effect
My Quest for the Moment When Everything Changes
By Dennis Rodriguez
May 17, 2009
Since then a few other scenes from the movie have played an important role in my journey towards Resignation Day. I’ll recount one more.
One day in August, I was at my daughter’s swimming class and I was drawn to a little boy on a leash guided by his mother. I immediately felt a strong pull to pay attention to his every step and so I watched him. He looked as if he had a malformed mouth and what seemed to look like a tube tied to his mid-section. Suddenly the little boy laid down on the fitness center floor and did not move. His mother did not miss a beat. “Sweetheart, are you hungry?” She took out some sort of electronic measurement device and proceeded to feed him liquid through the tube by his waist. “Is your son diabetic?” I asked. “No, he was born with a congenital heart condition and the reflux keeps him from being able to eat through his mouth.” My heart sank. His mother seemed so peaceful and accepting. She understood that she could still love her son and that made everything ok. As soon as the mother was done feeding, the boy popped up and began to move about. His energy had returned as quickly as it had left.
I could not get the little boy out of my mind. A few days later, I was meditating on the little boy with the intention of praying for a healing and had a profound experience. I saw in my mind’s eye an embryo. The embryo's life was at a fork in the road, the point in which either organ health or malformation was possible. Electricity ran through my body as I realized that what I was experiencing at some energetic level was a past moment in time when the little boy’s malformation first took place. I watched as the healthy choice was manifested. It brought intense energy movement throughout my entire body. I next had another image come to mind from the movie Superman: This time when Superman loses it after finding Lois Lane, lifeless in the earthquake rubble. He screams and flies high above the earth causing the earth to spin in opposite direction and go back in time to the moment before the earthquake in the hopes of saving her. I immediately saw the connection.
Now before you wonder whether I’ve flown with Superman over the cookoo’s nest, let me say that I have not seen the little boy again. I have no idea whether there was an actual healing. I do know that it brought me closer to the little boy’s energy and with it, a sense of peace. Superman reminds me that now is the time to play, to remember my flying dreams, to time travel and to serve.
"And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven"- Jesus, Mathew 18:3
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 32 days
Not a minute to reflect today. It is ironic that yesterday’s entry was about the need to let go at work so that I could make room for my new life and today was nothing short of insanity. Back to back meetings, the weirdest questions from my enrollment counselors, a crying international student begging to be admitted so that she is not deported to Moldavia (I looked it up, it’s in Romania), a 15-minute lunch break for a Griff’s hamburger and back in the saddle.
We have enormous goals for my last term at the university and many doubt whether we can pull it off. The MBA enrollments need a Christmas miracle or at the very least my undivided attention.
I know firsthand what it takes to complete an MBA as an adult learner. It was one of the most challenging times of my life. I had two daughters that greeted me every day like a rock star the moment I would get home. “Daddy’s home, Daddy’s home!!” Very rarely did I have the luxury of retreating to the basement without being disturbed. I didn’t mind. I was getting my MBA in International Business but I preferred to play with the children. I did not always have the energy for play or study, but I did the best I could. Some classes were downright hard. After all, I was an acting major with no prior business coursework. Statistics was near impossible and required help from above. I got an A-.
Then there was the capstone at the end of the program. It was a simulation of a global company that required one to integrate all they had learned in the program. You made executive decisions in strategic planning, marketing, supply chain management, finance, human resource allocation and defended your decisions every week in class. I was petrified for the first four weeks. Nothing was making sense and I had to face the prospect of admitting to NOT KNOWING. God help me!
I remember one day, I took the day off to work on my homework. I was walking home from the coffee shop after spending five hours on just one decision and I started to feel a panic attack coming my way. My thoughts were racing: “How can I possibly get through this class? How could I admit to my professor (who is also a faculty member that I consider a colleague and friend) that I can’t cut it? I can’t finish this class! I just can’t.”
Then suddenly, my mind just stopped in its tracks. I sat with it all and fully embraced what I was feeling at the moment. I remember having the sensation of complete silence, my thoughts just stopped and all I could do was smile. “So what if I can’t cut it?” “So what if I blow the presentation?” “So what if my professor loses respect for me?” “So what?”
I finished my homework and a few business concepts clicked that night. Not much, just a few. The next night was the presentation and you know what? I did fine. A few extra financial calculations clicked and by the next week, I was getting the hang of it. I understood. I realized, “I can do this” and I did.
My mother called me today to tell me she received the birthday gift I sent her. It was a photo album of my MBA graduation in May. She could not make it and I knew she would treasure the pictures more than I would. She was ecstatic. Completing the MBA with a full time management position and two young children was a great accomplishment. It pales in comparison however with the knowledge that my mother is happy because I sent her a photo album.
I told her a month ago that I was leaving my job to write a book. You know what her response was?
“Please send me the first copy.” I will.
We have enormous goals for my last term at the university and many doubt whether we can pull it off. The MBA enrollments need a Christmas miracle or at the very least my undivided attention.
I know firsthand what it takes to complete an MBA as an adult learner. It was one of the most challenging times of my life. I had two daughters that greeted me every day like a rock star the moment I would get home. “Daddy’s home, Daddy’s home!!” Very rarely did I have the luxury of retreating to the basement without being disturbed. I didn’t mind. I was getting my MBA in International Business but I preferred to play with the children. I did not always have the energy for play or study, but I did the best I could. Some classes were downright hard. After all, I was an acting major with no prior business coursework. Statistics was near impossible and required help from above. I got an A-.
Then there was the capstone at the end of the program. It was a simulation of a global company that required one to integrate all they had learned in the program. You made executive decisions in strategic planning, marketing, supply chain management, finance, human resource allocation and defended your decisions every week in class. I was petrified for the first four weeks. Nothing was making sense and I had to face the prospect of admitting to NOT KNOWING. God help me!
I remember one day, I took the day off to work on my homework. I was walking home from the coffee shop after spending five hours on just one decision and I started to feel a panic attack coming my way. My thoughts were racing: “How can I possibly get through this class? How could I admit to my professor (who is also a faculty member that I consider a colleague and friend) that I can’t cut it? I can’t finish this class! I just can’t.”
Then suddenly, my mind just stopped in its tracks. I sat with it all and fully embraced what I was feeling at the moment. I remember having the sensation of complete silence, my thoughts just stopped and all I could do was smile. “So what if I can’t cut it?” “So what if I blow the presentation?” “So what if my professor loses respect for me?” “So what?”
I finished my homework and a few business concepts clicked that night. Not much, just a few. The next night was the presentation and you know what? I did fine. A few extra financial calculations clicked and by the next week, I was getting the hang of it. I understood. I realized, “I can do this” and I did.
My mother called me today to tell me she received the birthday gift I sent her. It was a photo album of my MBA graduation in May. She could not make it and I knew she would treasure the pictures more than I would. She was ecstatic. Completing the MBA with a full time management position and two young children was a great accomplishment. It pales in comparison however with the knowledge that my mother is happy because I sent her a photo album.
I told her a month ago that I was leaving my job to write a book. You know what her response was?
“Please send me the first copy.” I will.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 33 days
How do you create the space for a new life amidst the constant activity bombardment of the old?
I am having a really hard time going into the office and investing my heart and soul into my work while knowing that in 33 days, I will submit my letter of resignation. It’s not because I don’t care about the university’s success or because I lack a commitment to my employees. It’s because no matter how difficult it is to deal with perceptions about my commitment level, my struggle is based on the healthy need to create mental space for something new. It is natural to be restless with the old when you are in transition. I’m sure many of you have felt what I’m writing about. Have you ever dreaded going to work? What is this feeling trying to say to us? “Make that Change.” (Yes, from Michael Jackson’s Man in the Mirror!)
Whether we believe it or not, there is a part of us that sees beyond our loss of a security image and fears of losing that stable income. This higher self is responsible for our lack of energy and dissatisfaction with work. It is calling us to follow a new path. A path that leads to joy, passion, curiosity and growth.
I have a co-worker who makes it a point to say every time someone has resigned, “he/she has already checked out.” For a while I dreaded the prospects of hearing those words about myself. I needed to be assured that everyone saw me as giving 150% every day. I now accept that there is a part of me that has to “check out” and allow others to take my place. Decisions will be made without my input, I don’t have to attend every key meeting or facilitate every networking event. 33 days is not a long time and the best way to deal with work is to start letting things go.
Last week I told my wife a story I had read in either the Holographic Universe by Michael Talbot or The Yoga of Time Travel by Fred Allan Wolf that illustrates the need to empty oneself to make room for something new. She thought I should blog about it that day. I told her I would, but it got bumped by some freaky spirit, energy ghost story. Then I went with a buddy of mine a few days later to see the movie 2012 and there again is the exact same story largely depicted on the silver screen- red robed monks and all! I got the message.
Empty Cup Mind
“A wise old monk once lived in an ancient temple. One day the monk heard an impatient pounding on the temple door. He opened it and greeted a young student, who said, “I have studied with great and wise masters. I consider myself quite accomplished in Buddhist philosophy. However, just in case there is anything more I need to know, I have come to see if you can add to my knowledge.” “Very well,” said the wise old master. “Come and have tea with me, and we will discuss your studies.” The two seated themselves opposite each other, and the old monk prepared tea. When it was ready, the old monk began to pour the tea carefully into the visitor’s cup. When the cup was full, the old man continued pouring until the tea spilled over the side of the cup and onto the young man’s lap. The startled visitor jumped back and indignantly shouted, “Some wise master you are! You are a fool who does not even know when a cup is full!” The old man calmly replied, “Just like this cup, your mind is so full of ideas that there is no room for any more. Come to me with an empty-cup mind, and then you will learn something.”
I have learned that quitting the university and becoming an author is not the real risk. The real risk is revealing all of me to you. It is a crash course in ego management.
My mind gets caught up with ego-based thoughts: “It is so cool that people think I’m so deep”, “What does he mean by this blog is a good marketing strategy?”,” Why doesn’t she write less about what it means to her and more about me?”, “Do they think this is too weird?”, “He said it was interesting, but he didn’t say it was VERY interesting.”
Why am I taking this risk and exposing all of me?
Because I have to empty my mind if I am to learn something new.
I am having a really hard time going into the office and investing my heart and soul into my work while knowing that in 33 days, I will submit my letter of resignation. It’s not because I don’t care about the university’s success or because I lack a commitment to my employees. It’s because no matter how difficult it is to deal with perceptions about my commitment level, my struggle is based on the healthy need to create mental space for something new. It is natural to be restless with the old when you are in transition. I’m sure many of you have felt what I’m writing about. Have you ever dreaded going to work? What is this feeling trying to say to us? “Make that Change.” (Yes, from Michael Jackson’s Man in the Mirror!)
Whether we believe it or not, there is a part of us that sees beyond our loss of a security image and fears of losing that stable income. This higher self is responsible for our lack of energy and dissatisfaction with work. It is calling us to follow a new path. A path that leads to joy, passion, curiosity and growth.
I have a co-worker who makes it a point to say every time someone has resigned, “he/she has already checked out.” For a while I dreaded the prospects of hearing those words about myself. I needed to be assured that everyone saw me as giving 150% every day. I now accept that there is a part of me that has to “check out” and allow others to take my place. Decisions will be made without my input, I don’t have to attend every key meeting or facilitate every networking event. 33 days is not a long time and the best way to deal with work is to start letting things go.
Last week I told my wife a story I had read in either the Holographic Universe by Michael Talbot or The Yoga of Time Travel by Fred Allan Wolf that illustrates the need to empty oneself to make room for something new. She thought I should blog about it that day. I told her I would, but it got bumped by some freaky spirit, energy ghost story. Then I went with a buddy of mine a few days later to see the movie 2012 and there again is the exact same story largely depicted on the silver screen- red robed monks and all! I got the message.
Empty Cup Mind
“A wise old monk once lived in an ancient temple. One day the monk heard an impatient pounding on the temple door. He opened it and greeted a young student, who said, “I have studied with great and wise masters. I consider myself quite accomplished in Buddhist philosophy. However, just in case there is anything more I need to know, I have come to see if you can add to my knowledge.” “Very well,” said the wise old master. “Come and have tea with me, and we will discuss your studies.” The two seated themselves opposite each other, and the old monk prepared tea. When it was ready, the old monk began to pour the tea carefully into the visitor’s cup. When the cup was full, the old man continued pouring until the tea spilled over the side of the cup and onto the young man’s lap. The startled visitor jumped back and indignantly shouted, “Some wise master you are! You are a fool who does not even know when a cup is full!” The old man calmly replied, “Just like this cup, your mind is so full of ideas that there is no room for any more. Come to me with an empty-cup mind, and then you will learn something.”
I have learned that quitting the university and becoming an author is not the real risk. The real risk is revealing all of me to you. It is a crash course in ego management.
My mind gets caught up with ego-based thoughts: “It is so cool that people think I’m so deep”, “What does he mean by this blog is a good marketing strategy?”,” Why doesn’t she write less about what it means to her and more about me?”, “Do they think this is too weird?”, “He said it was interesting, but he didn’t say it was VERY interesting.”
Why am I taking this risk and exposing all of me?
Because I have to empty my mind if I am to learn something new.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 34 Days
My co-worker’s nephew is in an intensive care unit. He has developed a blood infection two years after being diagnosed with cancer. After so many chemotherapy battles won, the outcome of this one feels uncertain. He is my age and also has three young daughters which makes me feel uniquely close to his plight. One of my assistant directors has received bad news about her health today. I don’t have the details but am concerned about her. My sister’s father in law who was pronounced dead two weeks ago is in hospice care. No one expects it will be long. My wife’s grandfather is only ingesting Ensure. No solid foods. At 94, his days are not many. My co-worker’s dad received news that there is no sign of brain activity in the area where there is atrophy. She is reaching out to me and I can't stop thinking about her daddy. Who do I focus on? How can I help? I feel like today is the first day of a nine day journey to help those close to me through prayer. I can’t write about leaving the university right now. I am overwhelmed by the request for prayers and even with all the “proof” through spirit communication, at this moment, I have no idea how I can help. I can’t manipulate or force a mystical experience. Believe me, I have tried. I don’t choose the timing either.
A few years ago, I was in a similar state. One in which I found myself being drawn to an intense period of prayer for nine days straight. I know I have said this before but it begs being mentioned once more: Except for these past 30 days of daily writing, I typically find it hard to do anything consistently. Prayers are usually attempted while lying in bed and last as long as it takes for me to reach REM a few minutes later. So the idea of heading to the basement for two hours of silence is foreign to me as well. Yet, when it happens, I am given the energy and desire to accomplish this task with ease.
I had no idea why I was called to another nine-day period of prayer and for who just a couple of months after the one for my wife's mother. I guess I did not need to know. On the eighth day, I received an email from a friend that a mutual friend of ours, who was battling a kidney disorder at the age of 90, was receiving final visitors. He was home with his newlywed and two daughters to pass in peace. I immediately felt the all too familiar energy course through my body. I knew in that instant that he was the object of my prayers and that I was going to see him soon.
He was a special man. We were neighbors in a cohousing community in Denver and shared countless nights of philosophy and religion chats. You see, in his earlier days he was a CU-Boulder philosophy professor and had a great deal to teach a young lad. Every time there was a community meal, we would find each other and block everyone else out. I would visit him in his little yellow house and he would make me tea. So much to learn, so little time.
On the ninth day, I told my wife that I wanted to visit him and say my goodbyes. I told her that I believed he is expecting me even though he was no longer conscious. At 5:15pm, my wife came by with the kids to the university and picked me up. She drove to the back parking lot of the cohousing community. “Why don’t you wait here, I won’t be long” I said. She was not interested in seeing nor having the two girls see a dying man. I was. I got to the front door and saw a sign that said: “No visitors tonight.” I froze. I did not want to leave. I had to see him. Should I knock? No, it says no visitors. I just stood there waiting for some movement in the house. Finally, his wife saw me peeking through the window and smiled. She opened the door. “Dennis, please come in” “Are you sure?” I said. “The sign said no visitors.” “Yes, you can come in. He does not have long.” I went into their bedroom and asked her if I can have a few minutes alone with him. She said yes and closed the door. He was breathing very heavily and although his eyes were open, he was no longer present in this realm. I put my left hand over his and my right hand on his chest. He started to writhe and moan. I then said to him: “Don’t be afraid. It’s time to let go. I love you.” His struggle stopped and his breathing became slightly calmer. I then left, said a few inadequate words to his wife and daughters and went to join my own. The next day I opened an email that said he had died at 6pm. 30 minutes after my visit.
I now feel I am entering a similar period and again do not know who it’s for.
I asked my wife if it would be appropriate to stop writing for the next nine days while I deal with whatever is happening. Her response was absolutely not. “Write from your heart and write for you.” I will.
A few years ago, I was in a similar state. One in which I found myself being drawn to an intense period of prayer for nine days straight. I know I have said this before but it begs being mentioned once more: Except for these past 30 days of daily writing, I typically find it hard to do anything consistently. Prayers are usually attempted while lying in bed and last as long as it takes for me to reach REM a few minutes later. So the idea of heading to the basement for two hours of silence is foreign to me as well. Yet, when it happens, I am given the energy and desire to accomplish this task with ease.
I had no idea why I was called to another nine-day period of prayer and for who just a couple of months after the one for my wife's mother. I guess I did not need to know. On the eighth day, I received an email from a friend that a mutual friend of ours, who was battling a kidney disorder at the age of 90, was receiving final visitors. He was home with his newlywed and two daughters to pass in peace. I immediately felt the all too familiar energy course through my body. I knew in that instant that he was the object of my prayers and that I was going to see him soon.
He was a special man. We were neighbors in a cohousing community in Denver and shared countless nights of philosophy and religion chats. You see, in his earlier days he was a CU-Boulder philosophy professor and had a great deal to teach a young lad. Every time there was a community meal, we would find each other and block everyone else out. I would visit him in his little yellow house and he would make me tea. So much to learn, so little time.
On the ninth day, I told my wife that I wanted to visit him and say my goodbyes. I told her that I believed he is expecting me even though he was no longer conscious. At 5:15pm, my wife came by with the kids to the university and picked me up. She drove to the back parking lot of the cohousing community. “Why don’t you wait here, I won’t be long” I said. She was not interested in seeing nor having the two girls see a dying man. I was. I got to the front door and saw a sign that said: “No visitors tonight.” I froze. I did not want to leave. I had to see him. Should I knock? No, it says no visitors. I just stood there waiting for some movement in the house. Finally, his wife saw me peeking through the window and smiled. She opened the door. “Dennis, please come in” “Are you sure?” I said. “The sign said no visitors.” “Yes, you can come in. He does not have long.” I went into their bedroom and asked her if I can have a few minutes alone with him. She said yes and closed the door. He was breathing very heavily and although his eyes were open, he was no longer present in this realm. I put my left hand over his and my right hand on his chest. He started to writhe and moan. I then said to him: “Don’t be afraid. It’s time to let go. I love you.” His struggle stopped and his breathing became slightly calmer. I then left, said a few inadequate words to his wife and daughters and went to join my own. The next day I opened an email that said he had died at 6pm. 30 minutes after my visit.
I now feel I am entering a similar period and again do not know who it’s for.
I asked my wife if it would be appropriate to stop writing for the next nine days while I deal with whatever is happening. Her response was absolutely not. “Write from your heart and write for you.” I will.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 35 days
When it comes to sending out positive intentions and manifesting my dream reality, today was not the best of days. I found myself being consumed by thoughts of fear. As always, my wife was there to listen to my negative diatribe. “What if I am making a mistake? I have never written before” “Well then, you get a job” she said. “It was so easy when it was just the two of us and we could pack up our two suitcases and my books, move to Seattle without jobs or apartment. Now we have two precious little ones counting on me...on us.” She then capped the sparkling coffee talk with: “I’m more afraid of what our life will be like if you don’t try to see this through.”
Anthony Robbins has a name for this process: The Dickens Pattern. I have been thinking about Charles Dickens, author of The Christmas Carol ever since I saw the new 3D movie version with my six year old last week. You are probably wondering whether it was appropriate to take my six year old to watch those scary spirits contort, morph and wail. Probably not. I did my best to cover her eyes at the scary parts. How could I have resisted the chance to have a date night with my little lady? We took the train to the theatre, held hands down the streets and went and got a Starbucks baby coffee afterwards (Soy steamer with sugar free vanilla syrup). Magic moments.
Scrooge had a choice to make after he was last visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come: He knew there was more pain associated with continuing to live his life from a place of distrust and selfishness, that would ultimately lead to an unredeemed death, then there was if he forgave himself and changed everything about how he treated others.
I too have the same choice. Which future carries more pain? Life five years after taking a major risk to quit a secure job and become a writer or life five years after staying at a job that no longer brings joy and fulfillment to my life? I have not been visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come (At least not yet). I do believe that it is important to get some leverage on attaching more pain to what my life would be like if I don’t change my job: The lack of motivation and energy that I feel when I go into the office and face the same unchallenging obstacles day after day, the depression that sets in when I feel guilty about taking a day off to take care of a sick child, the extreme frustration that I feel when faced with a constant barrage of political maneuvering by school administrators, and worst of all, my unending work complaints directed at the love of my life.
Could I imagine what my life would be like at this point if I didn’t follow my heart and just deleted this blog? I would continue to be moving a mile a minute at the office, superficially revealing what is appropriate to run a business. My despair with not being able to reveal my true nature has kept me from playing with my children and embracing my life. I have retreated into a dark cave and have shut out the world because of my facade. I have to do this!
The second part of the Dickens Pattern is to attach as much pleasure as you can to making the change. Instead of focusing on my “what ifs”, I choose to focus on your great emails. I have received so much support from all of you. When I am feeling frightened by the changes I am proposing, I do two things: I talk to my wonderfully wise wife (that usually does the trick) and I read your emails. Here are just a few. You have no idea how much I need these right now.
"Well Dennis, your blog is quite something. Your writing talent far exceeds many who could only lightly touch the depths in which you write. I wish you the best of luck on your continued journey not only to your Resignation but the path in which you are being called to follow. Thank you for sharing yourself."
"Dennis,
Your blog keeps getting better and better. I admire your vulnerability and your courage. I see that when you write from your heart, your words carry tremendous power and authenticity. Keep it up. You are an inspiration!"
"Wow, I'm up to day 53. Don't you feel that you are inspiring a revolution in our culture? We are in such a collective emotional depression. You know how contagious that is and it has to be stopped."
"Hello Dennis,
Still following :-)
I must say that your writings allow me to peer deeper into your soul than ever before.....I admire your courage to "expose" your deepest thoughts and thought processes in such a public way."
“My brother, my brother. I love you. Thanks for sharing yourself with me and the world. I read your blog, every entry as soon as I got it day before yesterday. It is honest, enlightening and compelling. I
think even if I didn't know you, I'd be rooting for your transformation from corporate to holistic. Because I do know you, I actually believe your receptiveness to energies as they come and go.
I know 1st hand that you are intimately aware of spirits that I could only barely perceive. I'm proud of you for being diligent with your relationships, especially your relationship with God. “
Had a bit of scare today. I noticed my darling little sis posted the link to my blog on Facebook. I had to ask her to delete the posting. The university has over 2000 fans on Facebook and I have a profile page. Too soon. I plan to give her the honors after Resignation Day. I love you little sis.
Anthony Robbins has a name for this process: The Dickens Pattern. I have been thinking about Charles Dickens, author of The Christmas Carol ever since I saw the new 3D movie version with my six year old last week. You are probably wondering whether it was appropriate to take my six year old to watch those scary spirits contort, morph and wail. Probably not. I did my best to cover her eyes at the scary parts. How could I have resisted the chance to have a date night with my little lady? We took the train to the theatre, held hands down the streets and went and got a Starbucks baby coffee afterwards (Soy steamer with sugar free vanilla syrup). Magic moments.
Scrooge had a choice to make after he was last visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come: He knew there was more pain associated with continuing to live his life from a place of distrust and selfishness, that would ultimately lead to an unredeemed death, then there was if he forgave himself and changed everything about how he treated others.
I too have the same choice. Which future carries more pain? Life five years after taking a major risk to quit a secure job and become a writer or life five years after staying at a job that no longer brings joy and fulfillment to my life? I have not been visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come (At least not yet). I do believe that it is important to get some leverage on attaching more pain to what my life would be like if I don’t change my job: The lack of motivation and energy that I feel when I go into the office and face the same unchallenging obstacles day after day, the depression that sets in when I feel guilty about taking a day off to take care of a sick child, the extreme frustration that I feel when faced with a constant barrage of political maneuvering by school administrators, and worst of all, my unending work complaints directed at the love of my life.
Could I imagine what my life would be like at this point if I didn’t follow my heart and just deleted this blog? I would continue to be moving a mile a minute at the office, superficially revealing what is appropriate to run a business. My despair with not being able to reveal my true nature has kept me from playing with my children and embracing my life. I have retreated into a dark cave and have shut out the world because of my facade. I have to do this!
The second part of the Dickens Pattern is to attach as much pleasure as you can to making the change. Instead of focusing on my “what ifs”, I choose to focus on your great emails. I have received so much support from all of you. When I am feeling frightened by the changes I am proposing, I do two things: I talk to my wonderfully wise wife (that usually does the trick) and I read your emails. Here are just a few. You have no idea how much I need these right now.
"Well Dennis, your blog is quite something. Your writing talent far exceeds many who could only lightly touch the depths in which you write. I wish you the best of luck on your continued journey not only to your Resignation but the path in which you are being called to follow. Thank you for sharing yourself."
"Dennis,
Your blog keeps getting better and better. I admire your vulnerability and your courage. I see that when you write from your heart, your words carry tremendous power and authenticity. Keep it up. You are an inspiration!"
"Wow, I'm up to day 53. Don't you feel that you are inspiring a revolution in our culture? We are in such a collective emotional depression. You know how contagious that is and it has to be stopped."
"Hello Dennis,
Still following :-)
I must say that your writings allow me to peer deeper into your soul than ever before.....I admire your courage to "expose" your deepest thoughts and thought processes in such a public way."
“My brother, my brother. I love you. Thanks for sharing yourself with me and the world. I read your blog, every entry as soon as I got it day before yesterday. It is honest, enlightening and compelling. I
think even if I didn't know you, I'd be rooting for your transformation from corporate to holistic. Because I do know you, I actually believe your receptiveness to energies as they come and go.
I know 1st hand that you are intimately aware of spirits that I could only barely perceive. I'm proud of you for being diligent with your relationships, especially your relationship with God. “
Had a bit of scare today. I noticed my darling little sis posted the link to my blog on Facebook. I had to ask her to delete the posting. The university has over 2000 fans on Facebook and I have a profile page. Too soon. I plan to give her the honors after Resignation Day. I love you little sis.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 36 days
So what do I mean when I write about a higher self? Is there really an aspect of us that already is that person we are trying so hard to become? For years I have decried my inability to overcome my judgments and addictions and have doubted that the wise, compassionate, creative, peaceful person is truly in here. How could I be compassionate and not call my sister for over a year and tell her I love her? How is it possible to be peaceful while I constantly experience inner turmoil and frustration with the direction of my work life? Six months ago, how was it possible for me to listen to my wife and become a writer when I truly felt I had nothing to say? Now here I am. My higher self is in here and it is pushing that scared, lonely, judgmental, frozen guy out of the way. It all starts with believing that our true nature as human beings is essentially good. That our potential is limitless and that we are here to collectively create a better world. In the midst of such a pandemic of cynicism, what is wrong with being an idealist? A vision must be conceived before it can be birthed.
Just two weeks and two diary entries before Ann Frank, along with her family were captured by the Gestapo after two years in hiding; she penned these words below in her diary. Our consciousness is raised just by reading these clearly enlightened words of forgiveness, understanding and hope.
Excerpt from The Diary of Anne Frank
“Deep down, the young are lonelier than the old.” I read this in a book somewhere and it’s stuck in my mind. As far as I can tell, it’s true. So if you are wondering whether it is harder for the adults here than for the children, the answer is no, it’s certainly not. Older people have an opinion about everything and are sure of their actions. It’s twice as hard for us young to hold on to our opinions at a time when ideals are being shattered and destroyed, when the worst side of human nature predominates, when everyone has come to doubt truth, justice and God.
Anyone who claims that the older folks have a more difficult time in the Annex doesn’t realize that the problems have a far greater impact on us. We’re much too young to deal with these problems, but they keep thrusting themselves on us until, finally, we are forced to think up a solution, though most of the time our solutions crumble when faced with the facts. It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything that people are truly good at heart.
It’s utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death. I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder that one day will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change [emphasis mine] for the better that this cruelty too will end, that peace and tranquility will return once more. In the meantime, I must hold on to my ideals. Perhaps the day will come, when I will be able to realize them!”- The Diary of Anne Frank pg. 327. Edited by Otto H. Frank and Mirjam Pressler.
I do not believe these are the words of a 12 year old girl but of an old soul whose words reach across time. It is a beautiful thing to connect to your higher self and the higher self of those around you. I have found that simply by asking to do so, doors to communication will open. The twin story from an earlier entry is one example. For those of you that have been around me on a number of occasions when I have fumbled through my words, the very existence of this blog, is another.
Just two weeks and two diary entries before Ann Frank, along with her family were captured by the Gestapo after two years in hiding; she penned these words below in her diary. Our consciousness is raised just by reading these clearly enlightened words of forgiveness, understanding and hope.
Excerpt from The Diary of Anne Frank
“Deep down, the young are lonelier than the old.” I read this in a book somewhere and it’s stuck in my mind. As far as I can tell, it’s true. So if you are wondering whether it is harder for the adults here than for the children, the answer is no, it’s certainly not. Older people have an opinion about everything and are sure of their actions. It’s twice as hard for us young to hold on to our opinions at a time when ideals are being shattered and destroyed, when the worst side of human nature predominates, when everyone has come to doubt truth, justice and God.
Anyone who claims that the older folks have a more difficult time in the Annex doesn’t realize that the problems have a far greater impact on us. We’re much too young to deal with these problems, but they keep thrusting themselves on us until, finally, we are forced to think up a solution, though most of the time our solutions crumble when faced with the facts. It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything that people are truly good at heart.
It’s utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death. I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder that one day will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change [emphasis mine] for the better that this cruelty too will end, that peace and tranquility will return once more. In the meantime, I must hold on to my ideals. Perhaps the day will come, when I will be able to realize them!”- The Diary of Anne Frank pg. 327. Edited by Otto H. Frank and Mirjam Pressler.
I do not believe these are the words of a 12 year old girl but of an old soul whose words reach across time. It is a beautiful thing to connect to your higher self and the higher self of those around you. I have found that simply by asking to do so, doors to communication will open. The twin story from an earlier entry is one example. For those of you that have been around me on a number of occasions when I have fumbled through my words, the very existence of this blog, is another.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 37 days
The day began with an all-staff meeting. At least 50 people crammed into the break room to hear updates and recognition from us managers. I envisioned what would the next all-staff meeting be like? The next one will be around the time I am to resign and I will have a platform to make the announcement to everyone in my department.
I am finding it increasingly difficult not telling people at work about this blog. There is so much positive energy around it and I would love to share it with those I am close with at work. My time has not yet come. There is the matter of Google’s organic listings. It is becoming easier to find this blog on the web so I really don’t know how much time I have before people at my university find it. Do I have 37 days or one? Does it matter? If people find out, then they are meant to. If they do, will I feel like a lame duck that is not taken seriously when making decisions? Will people at work cheer me on or feel like I am abandoning them?
It is a trip to sit with the uncertainty of it all. There is freedom in surrendering to uncertainty. At first it feels uncomfortable and you want to control and grasp what you think you know: “I’m sure some will miss me. I’m certain some will cry. I know who will be happy for me and the heck with those that aren’t.” Or the flip side: “I guarantee they will feel let down. I doubt they’ll replace me. They just can’t find out yet.” The truth is I don’t know anything, and that’s ok. If I can just give in to the peace of not knowing what the next moment will bring, life becomes exhilarating. Our thoughts create the perceptions of our present reality and they rarely reflect what is really real.
I do love the people I work with and I treasure so many wonderful memories. I will miss Shakespeare Friday with one of my co-workers where I would recite monologue after monologue from any Shakespeare play he chooses. Or going out onto the sales floor like a running bull in a china shop to cheer my reps on. I will miss the daily grapes that are left in my office by a man who has been working at the university for 30 years reminding me to get my fruit intake. Most of all and oddly enough, I will miss the tragic moments. The moments that brought us all together: Sudden deaths that we shared and long illnesses that we suffered through.
When my family and I were in Canada during my mother in law‘s final days, prayers were being sent over the internet on a daily basis. The support was palpable and it sustained me through a very difficult time. My employees would tell me that their inspiration to meet their goals was to not let me down in my absence. You cannot buy this type of loyalty and it does make me wonder if I am reciprocating this loyalty by resigning? I don’t know, and that’s ok. I don’t need to know.
In many ways the vision of that last all-staff feels like a funeral. The man my co-workers thought they knew will pass away soon and the man you are all getting to know will then emerge. It is important to me that the man they thought they knew be eulogized well. Why is this important? I don’t know.
I saw a friend tonight who is the most “full of life” woman you’ll ever meet. She embodies how I would like to be remembered. As someone who was full of life.
There is one thing I do know for certain: My time will come. So too will yours.
I am finding it increasingly difficult not telling people at work about this blog. There is so much positive energy around it and I would love to share it with those I am close with at work. My time has not yet come. There is the matter of Google’s organic listings. It is becoming easier to find this blog on the web so I really don’t know how much time I have before people at my university find it. Do I have 37 days or one? Does it matter? If people find out, then they are meant to. If they do, will I feel like a lame duck that is not taken seriously when making decisions? Will people at work cheer me on or feel like I am abandoning them?
It is a trip to sit with the uncertainty of it all. There is freedom in surrendering to uncertainty. At first it feels uncomfortable and you want to control and grasp what you think you know: “I’m sure some will miss me. I’m certain some will cry. I know who will be happy for me and the heck with those that aren’t.” Or the flip side: “I guarantee they will feel let down. I doubt they’ll replace me. They just can’t find out yet.” The truth is I don’t know anything, and that’s ok. If I can just give in to the peace of not knowing what the next moment will bring, life becomes exhilarating. Our thoughts create the perceptions of our present reality and they rarely reflect what is really real.
I do love the people I work with and I treasure so many wonderful memories. I will miss Shakespeare Friday with one of my co-workers where I would recite monologue after monologue from any Shakespeare play he chooses. Or going out onto the sales floor like a running bull in a china shop to cheer my reps on. I will miss the daily grapes that are left in my office by a man who has been working at the university for 30 years reminding me to get my fruit intake. Most of all and oddly enough, I will miss the tragic moments. The moments that brought us all together: Sudden deaths that we shared and long illnesses that we suffered through.
When my family and I were in Canada during my mother in law‘s final days, prayers were being sent over the internet on a daily basis. The support was palpable and it sustained me through a very difficult time. My employees would tell me that their inspiration to meet their goals was to not let me down in my absence. You cannot buy this type of loyalty and it does make me wonder if I am reciprocating this loyalty by resigning? I don’t know, and that’s ok. I don’t need to know.
In many ways the vision of that last all-staff feels like a funeral. The man my co-workers thought they knew will pass away soon and the man you are all getting to know will then emerge. It is important to me that the man they thought they knew be eulogized well. Why is this important? I don’t know.
I saw a friend tonight who is the most “full of life” woman you’ll ever meet. She embodies how I would like to be remembered. As someone who was full of life.
There is one thing I do know for certain: My time will come. So too will yours.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 38 days
If I am going to reveal all of me, then I have to write about my spirit communication. I have been resistant to write about what I will call ghosts for fear that my readers will be turned off, some might question my sanity or worse, become afraid themselves. First let me just say that I have never had a scary experience with any spirit beings. Partly because of what happens to me physiologically when I encounter them.
I should first warn you: I personally do not find any of these stories scary, but if you have a tendency to be frightened by ghost stories, you may want to either skip this blog entry or wait till it is daytime to read this. My only intention is to present a full canvas of my experiences as I formulate my new life.
I did not start my communication by actually seeing ghosts. About nine years ago when we moved to our first home, I would notice the presence of multiple beings in my bedroom. It was happening on a nightly basis and usually came between the awake and dream state. I would go to sleep and wake up in the middle of the night with a clear sense that there were others besides my wife and I in our room. I would be cognizant of where the ghosts were but would not receive information from them. Information came much later. At times I would wake up and the feeling of others was so strong that I would jump into a state of alert. My alertness would dissolve any perception of ghosts. I would later learn that my brain frequency had much to do with my extrasensory perception. The longer I remained in alpha brain frequency through a state of relaxation, the longer the perception would last. If I jumped back to beta, then the portal was closed.
In 2006, I had my first experience of seeing a ghost. My friend reminded me recently that I claimed to have seen my dead grandmother when I was 19, but I don’t remember that. I do remember 2006. My wife was pregnant with our second daughter and was experiencing a spiritual challenge of her own. One night, I was praying the rosary in bed while she struggled with lack of sleep and worries about her dying mother. Soon after falling asleep, I came back up to this realm and saw a girl who I immediately recognized as being 12 years old. She had beautiful red hair which reminded me of my three year old daughter at the time. In fact, I saw the ghost as a 12 year old version of my daughter. She was standing right next to me and looking straight ahead towards the wall behind me. She then proceeded to go right through the wall and I proceeded to go back to sleep. I maintained a trance–like state during the whole apparition.
When we moved to our new house in 2008, the visions became much more frequent. One night, I was awakened by my older daughter with a tug on my blanket. When I turned around to look at her, I saw a heavy set woman in a bun standing right next to her looking straight at me. I looked at her, looked at my daughter and then back to the woman who was then gone. A week later, I woke up to another woman standing about three feet above my bed. She had long black hair and was looking peacefully at me. The room was too dark to notice the color of her clothing but I knew she was wearing a long dress and she was floating over my bed. Again, no fear just an observation. A startling moment did occur in 2008, when I woke up to a man dressed in a brown flannel suit, sporting a goatee and wearing a 1920’s hat (similar to the one young Vito Corleane wore in Godfather II before he kills the Black Hand) also hovering over my bed. The man had a frantic look on his face and began to run straight towards me. I jumped out of bed and to the room behind me which happened to be the bathroom only to find my oldest daughter washing her hands. While my youngest daughter was still in her crib, I saw a toddler running across our bedroom. Was this an older version of my second daughter?
I have had one instance where I saw a ghost outside my home. It was during a business trip to Chicago. Up to this point, I had not tried to make verbal contact with a ghost and had decided that the next time I saw one, I would do so. I had just finished praying and went to sleep. When I awoke in the middle of the night, I saw a young man standing by my bed in the hotel room. He was a Caucasian man around 20 years of age and wore a blue baseball cap. I asked him, “What is your name?” He then smiled but did not tell me his name. Believe it or not, I went back to sleep. You are probably wondering how I could I possibly go back to sleep after seeing a ghost alone in a hotel room? For some reason I feel sedated throughout each experience. In this calm state, I have no problem drifting back into a dream.
After getting back from Chicago and for all of 2009, there has been a shift in the type of experiences I have had. I have not seen a ghost all year but I have increased communication with the spirit world. I noticed for a while that my children were not sleeping well and that whenever I would go into their room, the energy would feel quite different. I knew that there were spirits present and that I needed to help send them towards the light. I am still surprised by my level of courage during these encounters. I feel like the spiritual protector of the family. One night, we were having a sleep-over with the children of our close friends. The boy was having his first sleep-over and was a bit scared. My wife and I kept hearing noises coming from their room and my oldest daughter was breathing very heavily. I went into their room and found everyone fast asleep but the air extremely thick. I sat down next to the little boy who was sleeping by then and started speaking internally. “It is time to leave now. These children have to get some sleep and you are keeping them from doing so.” Immediately I felt the air get lighter and my daughter’s breathing turn normal. I went back to bed and told my wife of my experience. I then was hit like a bolt of lightning with information. Every piece of communication was punctuated with the flow of energy that I have written about in earlier entries. I started speaking about what was coming through to my wife. “The boy’s grandfather is here. He came to protect his grandson. He did not know me and was suspicious so he made his presence felt. When I sat down by the boy, the grandfather realized I was trustworthy and left me alone. There are two. The boy’s great grandfather is here also. They are so peaceful and calm. They are worried about the boy’s father. He needs to listen to his feelings and his wife can help him do so. They are pulling their energy back and thanking me.”
This type of communication has been frequent but I think this is enough for now. Perhaps it will be my sixth or seventh book. I think that there has been a progression and a convergence. I may not see ghosts anymore but I do get information that helps to, in the words of the little boy’s dad “heal souls.” Convergence comes from my communication with the higher self of those still in the physical plane.
None of these stories mean anything if they do not point to healing and evolution. It is clear that spirits have wanted to communicate with me and that I do not let fear get in the way. If we allow ourselves to be guided by our higher intuition and stay open to communication on all levels, we can all become a channel for the healing of souls. I don’t know how large of a role these experiences will play in my new life. I’m trusting it will all become clearer in the next 37 days. We’ll see.
I should first warn you: I personally do not find any of these stories scary, but if you have a tendency to be frightened by ghost stories, you may want to either skip this blog entry or wait till it is daytime to read this. My only intention is to present a full canvas of my experiences as I formulate my new life.
I did not start my communication by actually seeing ghosts. About nine years ago when we moved to our first home, I would notice the presence of multiple beings in my bedroom. It was happening on a nightly basis and usually came between the awake and dream state. I would go to sleep and wake up in the middle of the night with a clear sense that there were others besides my wife and I in our room. I would be cognizant of where the ghosts were but would not receive information from them. Information came much later. At times I would wake up and the feeling of others was so strong that I would jump into a state of alert. My alertness would dissolve any perception of ghosts. I would later learn that my brain frequency had much to do with my extrasensory perception. The longer I remained in alpha brain frequency through a state of relaxation, the longer the perception would last. If I jumped back to beta, then the portal was closed.
In 2006, I had my first experience of seeing a ghost. My friend reminded me recently that I claimed to have seen my dead grandmother when I was 19, but I don’t remember that. I do remember 2006. My wife was pregnant with our second daughter and was experiencing a spiritual challenge of her own. One night, I was praying the rosary in bed while she struggled with lack of sleep and worries about her dying mother. Soon after falling asleep, I came back up to this realm and saw a girl who I immediately recognized as being 12 years old. She had beautiful red hair which reminded me of my three year old daughter at the time. In fact, I saw the ghost as a 12 year old version of my daughter. She was standing right next to me and looking straight ahead towards the wall behind me. She then proceeded to go right through the wall and I proceeded to go back to sleep. I maintained a trance–like state during the whole apparition.
When we moved to our new house in 2008, the visions became much more frequent. One night, I was awakened by my older daughter with a tug on my blanket. When I turned around to look at her, I saw a heavy set woman in a bun standing right next to her looking straight at me. I looked at her, looked at my daughter and then back to the woman who was then gone. A week later, I woke up to another woman standing about three feet above my bed. She had long black hair and was looking peacefully at me. The room was too dark to notice the color of her clothing but I knew she was wearing a long dress and she was floating over my bed. Again, no fear just an observation. A startling moment did occur in 2008, when I woke up to a man dressed in a brown flannel suit, sporting a goatee and wearing a 1920’s hat (similar to the one young Vito Corleane wore in Godfather II before he kills the Black Hand) also hovering over my bed. The man had a frantic look on his face and began to run straight towards me. I jumped out of bed and to the room behind me which happened to be the bathroom only to find my oldest daughter washing her hands. While my youngest daughter was still in her crib, I saw a toddler running across our bedroom. Was this an older version of my second daughter?
I have had one instance where I saw a ghost outside my home. It was during a business trip to Chicago. Up to this point, I had not tried to make verbal contact with a ghost and had decided that the next time I saw one, I would do so. I had just finished praying and went to sleep. When I awoke in the middle of the night, I saw a young man standing by my bed in the hotel room. He was a Caucasian man around 20 years of age and wore a blue baseball cap. I asked him, “What is your name?” He then smiled but did not tell me his name. Believe it or not, I went back to sleep. You are probably wondering how I could I possibly go back to sleep after seeing a ghost alone in a hotel room? For some reason I feel sedated throughout each experience. In this calm state, I have no problem drifting back into a dream.
After getting back from Chicago and for all of 2009, there has been a shift in the type of experiences I have had. I have not seen a ghost all year but I have increased communication with the spirit world. I noticed for a while that my children were not sleeping well and that whenever I would go into their room, the energy would feel quite different. I knew that there were spirits present and that I needed to help send them towards the light. I am still surprised by my level of courage during these encounters. I feel like the spiritual protector of the family. One night, we were having a sleep-over with the children of our close friends. The boy was having his first sleep-over and was a bit scared. My wife and I kept hearing noises coming from their room and my oldest daughter was breathing very heavily. I went into their room and found everyone fast asleep but the air extremely thick. I sat down next to the little boy who was sleeping by then and started speaking internally. “It is time to leave now. These children have to get some sleep and you are keeping them from doing so.” Immediately I felt the air get lighter and my daughter’s breathing turn normal. I went back to bed and told my wife of my experience. I then was hit like a bolt of lightning with information. Every piece of communication was punctuated with the flow of energy that I have written about in earlier entries. I started speaking about what was coming through to my wife. “The boy’s grandfather is here. He came to protect his grandson. He did not know me and was suspicious so he made his presence felt. When I sat down by the boy, the grandfather realized I was trustworthy and left me alone. There are two. The boy’s great grandfather is here also. They are so peaceful and calm. They are worried about the boy’s father. He needs to listen to his feelings and his wife can help him do so. They are pulling their energy back and thanking me.”
This type of communication has been frequent but I think this is enough for now. Perhaps it will be my sixth or seventh book. I think that there has been a progression and a convergence. I may not see ghosts anymore but I do get information that helps to, in the words of the little boy’s dad “heal souls.” Convergence comes from my communication with the higher self of those still in the physical plane.
None of these stories mean anything if they do not point to healing and evolution. It is clear that spirits have wanted to communicate with me and that I do not let fear get in the way. If we allow ourselves to be guided by our higher intuition and stay open to communication on all levels, we can all become a channel for the healing of souls. I don’t know how large of a role these experiences will play in my new life. I’m trusting it will all become clearer in the next 37 days. We’ll see.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 39 days
I slept last night! I think it helped to write about one of my greatest obstacles to dream fulfillment: fear of success, arrogance and a fatal fall. I find it fascinating that the process of putting my words out there, not only provided peace of mind but it also jogged some deep-seeded memories. I remembered today that as a nine year old, I read for the first and only time, the Greek myth of Icarus. It made such an impression on me that to this day without re-reading the story, I still remember the highlights. I even quoted part of the story in my first blog entry.
Icarus and his father wanted to fly as high as they can so they fashioned wings out of feathers and wax. Icarus’ father warned his son to be careful not to fly too close to the sun as the wax would certainly melt. Icarus did not heed his father’s warning and with the loss of his wings, fell deep into the sea.
I don’t know whether this story cast a 30 year fear spell on me or if an older memory will resurface that is the cause of my debilitating fear. I trust that what needs to come up, will when it is safe to do so.
Trust: that is another biggie, isn’t it? One of the reasons why I am including this story now instead of yesterday when it may have had more of a literary impact is because I am writing real-time without any forethought of what I am going to write about. It is a tough thing to do for 20 days straight much less for 60 as it requires superman-like trust. My wife gave me the greatest advice before I started this blog: “Don’t get in the way of your-self.” If I think too much about what I should write about, then it will stifle my creative impulses. The reason why it is getting harder is because more people are being exposed to this blog. The self-critic muses: “Am I writing too much of one thing? What if nothing comes up? Do people really care? Is it self-indulgent? Can I keep this up for 39 days? Can I really quit my job?
I was looking today for the name of a movie that I saw advertized in the Nexus Holistic Journal. I knew it was a documentary about people from 100 countries being asked the same question: “What is God?”
I Googled “Nexus Denver” and still could not find the name of the movie. I did however find an advertisement for an evening with James Van Praagh and another for Wayne Dyer’s website. I decided that it is time to try to get my blog out there so I emailed Van Praagh and posted a message on Dyer’s Healyourlife.com blog. I also sent an email to Nexus editors letting them know what I am doing. Nexus is the paper that focuses my thoughts and sparks my intuition. There are times when a single ad featuring the face of a therapist or a description of a therapy speaks volumes to my heart and shifts the trajectory of my day. It reminds me that help is ever present. We just have to be open to its many forms.
Why is it so hard to trust that if creativity has sprung for 20 days it can do so for 39 more? I am convinced that my dreams cannot manifest unless I deal with my resistance to trust. This blog is part of the therapeutic process. I will once again heed the words of my wife and “get out of the way of my-self.”
James, Wayne or the Nexus person,
If any of you three are reading this, I know it is not the greatest of marketing tactics to admit to my fears about continuing this blog, but this is really just about being honest and true with my-self and the world. I trust you understand.
Icarus and his father wanted to fly as high as they can so they fashioned wings out of feathers and wax. Icarus’ father warned his son to be careful not to fly too close to the sun as the wax would certainly melt. Icarus did not heed his father’s warning and with the loss of his wings, fell deep into the sea.
I don’t know whether this story cast a 30 year fear spell on me or if an older memory will resurface that is the cause of my debilitating fear. I trust that what needs to come up, will when it is safe to do so.
Trust: that is another biggie, isn’t it? One of the reasons why I am including this story now instead of yesterday when it may have had more of a literary impact is because I am writing real-time without any forethought of what I am going to write about. It is a tough thing to do for 20 days straight much less for 60 as it requires superman-like trust. My wife gave me the greatest advice before I started this blog: “Don’t get in the way of your-self.” If I think too much about what I should write about, then it will stifle my creative impulses. The reason why it is getting harder is because more people are being exposed to this blog. The self-critic muses: “Am I writing too much of one thing? What if nothing comes up? Do people really care? Is it self-indulgent? Can I keep this up for 39 days? Can I really quit my job?
I was looking today for the name of a movie that I saw advertized in the Nexus Holistic Journal. I knew it was a documentary about people from 100 countries being asked the same question: “What is God?”
I Googled “Nexus Denver” and still could not find the name of the movie. I did however find an advertisement for an evening with James Van Praagh and another for Wayne Dyer’s website. I decided that it is time to try to get my blog out there so I emailed Van Praagh and posted a message on Dyer’s Healyourlife.com blog. I also sent an email to Nexus editors letting them know what I am doing. Nexus is the paper that focuses my thoughts and sparks my intuition. There are times when a single ad featuring the face of a therapist or a description of a therapy speaks volumes to my heart and shifts the trajectory of my day. It reminds me that help is ever present. We just have to be open to its many forms.
Why is it so hard to trust that if creativity has sprung for 20 days it can do so for 39 more? I am convinced that my dreams cannot manifest unless I deal with my resistance to trust. This blog is part of the therapeutic process. I will once again heed the words of my wife and “get out of the way of my-self.”
James, Wayne or the Nexus person,
If any of you three are reading this, I know it is not the greatest of marketing tactics to admit to my fears about continuing this blog, but this is really just about being honest and true with my-self and the world. I trust you understand.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 40 days
I’m afraid of success. I don’t know where it comes from but I have a fundamental fear that if I am successful, I will be tempted by pride into arrogance. This arrogance would lead to a cataclysmic fall. It is as old of a mythological story as the Fall of the Light bearer, yet it is all too real in my psyche. I was deeply affected by the reports of death coming out of Sedona, Arizona. For those of you not aware of what I am referring to, acclaimed self-help guru James Arthur Ray, who some of you may have seen in “The Secret” or on Oprah, was conducting a sweat lodge ceremony in Sedona that went awry. Here is a guy who was on top of the world, writing book after book on creating harmonic wealth and charging $9000 for a weekend retreat. Even though he is not legally liable for the deaths, by the sounds of reports coming from his organization, he undoubtedly feels responsible on many levels and is experiencing an excruciatingly painful test of his faith.
You have read about the events that led me to quit drinking and you may recall that in my first entry, I wrote: “I’d rather be insecure than proud.” If I am being truthful with myself, at a deeper level I am afraid of my new life. Every day that I build in self-confidence is a day that I must confront my ego, like the timid Oliver Twist asking: Please universe, “can I have some more?” I know that my subconscious wiring does not want to be wealthy or well known. It doesn’t even want to leave the university. This inner resistance is at odds with my new vision and is responsible for any delays in manifesting my dreams and vision. It is hard for me to accept that at any level I want to stay in my little box, but in its acceptance, I begin the process of reprogramming my mind and create space for something new to take its place. This is hard work; to look deeply at our resistance to freedom, success, joy and abundance. If I told you that subconsciously you don’t want to be happy, would you believe me? It is; however, necessary work, without which affirmations fail, journaling or having a vision board seems useless and we wonder why everything does not change. For me, the ultimate resistance culprit is fear of falling from grace, of losing my loved ones because of a fatal mistake, of reaching the height of success only to see it all be taken away because of arrogance. I want to fully welcome success, wealth, abundance, joy, freedom and love.
I took the day off from work today. Did not sleep last night. Boy that twin kicked my you know what. I feel ready to get back into prayer. Needed the five days off. I’ll let you know if anything comes up. 40 days left till I resign. Should I start a fast? Nah, I’m not Jesus.
“When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?"- John 5:6
You have read about the events that led me to quit drinking and you may recall that in my first entry, I wrote: “I’d rather be insecure than proud.” If I am being truthful with myself, at a deeper level I am afraid of my new life. Every day that I build in self-confidence is a day that I must confront my ego, like the timid Oliver Twist asking: Please universe, “can I have some more?” I know that my subconscious wiring does not want to be wealthy or well known. It doesn’t even want to leave the university. This inner resistance is at odds with my new vision and is responsible for any delays in manifesting my dreams and vision. It is hard for me to accept that at any level I want to stay in my little box, but in its acceptance, I begin the process of reprogramming my mind and create space for something new to take its place. This is hard work; to look deeply at our resistance to freedom, success, joy and abundance. If I told you that subconsciously you don’t want to be happy, would you believe me? It is; however, necessary work, without which affirmations fail, journaling or having a vision board seems useless and we wonder why everything does not change. For me, the ultimate resistance culprit is fear of falling from grace, of losing my loved ones because of a fatal mistake, of reaching the height of success only to see it all be taken away because of arrogance. I want to fully welcome success, wealth, abundance, joy, freedom and love.
I took the day off from work today. Did not sleep last night. Boy that twin kicked my you know what. I feel ready to get back into prayer. Needed the five days off. I’ll let you know if anything comes up. 40 days left till I resign. Should I start a fast? Nah, I’m not Jesus.
“When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?"- John 5:6
Monday, November 9, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 41 days
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote:
http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I am tired. Four days ago I experienced such an intense manifestation of divine energy. I have even chosen to take a break from praying the rosary while I assimilate these higher frequencies into my being. The practical dilemma is that I am not sleeping and I feel like I am expelling so much energy at work. I want to sprint to Resignation Day. I feel like my bosses and employees need this from me. My position requires that I interact with marketing, community colleges, business development, admissions, enrollment services, financial aid, distance learning, faculty, school administrators, outside vendors, and people looking for work. I could stay in my office, sit quietly and within minutes I would have at least one of 75 people in my office. Today I was interrupted by someone who showed up without an appointment looking for a job. “Hey, I’m Dr. Murdock and I’m the guy you need to hire next. I’m a leader, been a leader for 30 years. I teach it, I live it. What do you got for me?” Wo, I wanted to pass out!
I don’t know if anyone at work can tell how tired I feel and if they can, I doubt anyone is aware that it does not have a thing to do with any energy vampires in my office. I work with amazingly talented people who defy the odds term after term overcoming insurmountable obstacles. I try to hide my fatigue by making people laugh and drinking lots of coffee. It’s an integration of my second life that drains me. In this life, I meet souls with higher vibrations. They come down a bit to meet me at my level but I also raise my consciousness to meet them half-way. The moment of contact fills me with impulses that at times feel like amplified voltage. The residual effects of these types of interactions, leaves my body fatigued and my mind reeling. My extra-sensory perception is in full swing and I have a deep sense that I am traveling to other dimensions, where healing is possible at the quantum level. I am convicted in the knowledge that our minds are just scratching the surface of what it means to turn possibility waves into probability curves into our perceptions of physical reality. With faith you can move mountains.
Today marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. College students from Western Germany encouraged students from Eastern Germany to ignore the water hoses and defeat fear-induced communism. What these students saw as possible, the world was now witnessing as probable. The Wall will come down. Our wall separating our perceptions of reality can seem so thick. I have to believe that I was created to enjoy creation, to live in the present and to dance with the forces of the universe.
The experience of divine energy that I referred to at the beginning of this post happened the day after my birthday. The day prior, I had heard from a friend that I had not spoken to in months. She revealed to me that writing a memoir is something she had also started but quit when she had a frightening experience with the spirit of her twin that had died at childbirth. That morning while I was walking to work (7-minute walking commute... Nope, not enough to keep me there) I emailed her from my phone that she should not be afraid of her twin speaking through her. She should finish her memoir. I did not think about her or her twin brother for the rest of the day. When I finished my evening post, I began my nightly prayers. I will now conclude with the email I sent her after my experience:
“I just finished my prayer session. No sooner had I began the rosary than you and your twin came to mind, followed by the most powerful energy I have yet to experience. It was contact with your brother. He is an extremely powerful soul and he has shared quite a bit with me tonight.
First of all, he is responsible for bringing us together. It is no coincidence that your last dramatic experience with him happened when you were writing your memoir and now while I am writing mine.
The reason why he did not go through with his incarnation was because he knew if he did so, he would have overshadowed your journey. His energy could not be denied and would have colored your every move. It was a selfless act so that you could live out your life.
Your mother never got over this and he is sorry for that.
He gave you the experience of his all-consuming energy while you were writing so that I could at this time make the connection for you. He is ready to let you write. You now know why he did not incarnate. It was not your fault. It was however, for you. His life purpose in other realms is so fulfilling. He is perfectly happy leaving earthly existence to you.
Finish your memoir.
Love and blessings,
Dennis”
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote:
http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I am tired. Four days ago I experienced such an intense manifestation of divine energy. I have even chosen to take a break from praying the rosary while I assimilate these higher frequencies into my being. The practical dilemma is that I am not sleeping and I feel like I am expelling so much energy at work. I want to sprint to Resignation Day. I feel like my bosses and employees need this from me. My position requires that I interact with marketing, community colleges, business development, admissions, enrollment services, financial aid, distance learning, faculty, school administrators, outside vendors, and people looking for work. I could stay in my office, sit quietly and within minutes I would have at least one of 75 people in my office. Today I was interrupted by someone who showed up without an appointment looking for a job. “Hey, I’m Dr. Murdock and I’m the guy you need to hire next. I’m a leader, been a leader for 30 years. I teach it, I live it. What do you got for me?” Wo, I wanted to pass out!
I don’t know if anyone at work can tell how tired I feel and if they can, I doubt anyone is aware that it does not have a thing to do with any energy vampires in my office. I work with amazingly talented people who defy the odds term after term overcoming insurmountable obstacles. I try to hide my fatigue by making people laugh and drinking lots of coffee. It’s an integration of my second life that drains me. In this life, I meet souls with higher vibrations. They come down a bit to meet me at my level but I also raise my consciousness to meet them half-way. The moment of contact fills me with impulses that at times feel like amplified voltage. The residual effects of these types of interactions, leaves my body fatigued and my mind reeling. My extra-sensory perception is in full swing and I have a deep sense that I am traveling to other dimensions, where healing is possible at the quantum level. I am convicted in the knowledge that our minds are just scratching the surface of what it means to turn possibility waves into probability curves into our perceptions of physical reality. With faith you can move mountains.
Today marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. College students from Western Germany encouraged students from Eastern Germany to ignore the water hoses and defeat fear-induced communism. What these students saw as possible, the world was now witnessing as probable. The Wall will come down. Our wall separating our perceptions of reality can seem so thick. I have to believe that I was created to enjoy creation, to live in the present and to dance with the forces of the universe.
The experience of divine energy that I referred to at the beginning of this post happened the day after my birthday. The day prior, I had heard from a friend that I had not spoken to in months. She revealed to me that writing a memoir is something she had also started but quit when she had a frightening experience with the spirit of her twin that had died at childbirth. That morning while I was walking to work (7-minute walking commute... Nope, not enough to keep me there) I emailed her from my phone that she should not be afraid of her twin speaking through her. She should finish her memoir. I did not think about her or her twin brother for the rest of the day. When I finished my evening post, I began my nightly prayers. I will now conclude with the email I sent her after my experience:
“I just finished my prayer session. No sooner had I began the rosary than you and your twin came to mind, followed by the most powerful energy I have yet to experience. It was contact with your brother. He is an extremely powerful soul and he has shared quite a bit with me tonight.
First of all, he is responsible for bringing us together. It is no coincidence that your last dramatic experience with him happened when you were writing your memoir and now while I am writing mine.
The reason why he did not go through with his incarnation was because he knew if he did so, he would have overshadowed your journey. His energy could not be denied and would have colored your every move. It was a selfless act so that you could live out your life.
Your mother never got over this and he is sorry for that.
He gave you the experience of his all-consuming energy while you were writing so that I could at this time make the connection for you. He is ready to let you write. You now know why he did not incarnate. It was not your fault. It was however, for you. His life purpose in other realms is so fulfilling. He is perfectly happy leaving earthly existence to you.
Finish your memoir.
Love and blessings,
Dennis”
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Countdown to The Superman Effect- 42 days
My mother in law was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma on August 5, 2005. She was a force to be reckoned with. A smoker for over 30 years, she was the type of woman that was willing to carry the world on her shoulders. As a Home Economics teacher until her retirement in 2001, she was committed to bringing out the best in her students. She was a pragmatic woman who had very little use for things that could not be validated by scientific inquiry. Religion was suspect as was anyone who was not willing to sweat and bleed for a living. Stress was a common state in her life and it took a movement of heaven and earth for her to admit feeling any pain. She suffered a great deal the year and a half of her fight with cancer.
I felt a strong kinship with my mother in law. Primarily because like she, I worried too much about what others thought of me. I shared in her feelings of inadequacy and compensated by having a “work horse” type of ethic.
She once asked me “Dennis, do you think I am judgmental?” I said “Yes, I do. We all are.” I have to admit, I was afraid of being judged by her. She would have driven Julie from Julie and Julia crazy with her criticism of how to perfect deboning a chicken. I did not know how to wash the dishes correctly or set the table so I typically stayed clear away from the kitchen. My fascination with spirit was foreign to her so we did not speak about my extracurricular activities.
Christmas 2006 would go on the books as one of our greatest adventures. My wife was to be induced with our second child on December 22, 2006. My mother in law was determined to make a trip to Denver and meet her grand-daughter even with failing kidneys, round the clock transfusions and the threat of dialysis. If this prospect was not stressful enough, Denver had a blizzard the week prior and cancelled the flight she and my father in law were to be on. We were fortunate to live across the street from the fire department and I joked with my wife that we may need those good looking fireman to help me deliver. Fortunately the road was paved for us to be driven by our daughter’s angelic sitter to the hospital for the inducement on schedule. No sooner had we arrived home with our new daughter on Christmas Eve, than a new blizzard hit the area and cancelled the second flight my in laws were to be on. My mother in law then took a turn for the worse and was hospitalized for the last time.
Canada and the US had just passed a law requiring passports to travel to and from even for newborns. We made the decision to go to Canada and try to fulfill my mother in law’s last wish of seeing her second grand-daughter. With three feet of snow we headed to a post office and with my hand holding the head of our 5 day old child, we had a passport picture snapped and were on our way.
For two weeks prior to leaving for Canada, I was spending hours in our basement praying for my mother in law and for my wife. I was empathetic to the challenge they were experiencing and I welcomed joining them in this struggle through prayer.
At this point I have to say that I don’t normally spend hours in prayer for anybody. I have enjoyed mystical experiences throughout my life but am too lazy to have any consistent meditative discipline. So when I say, I was called to prayer, I truly mean I am given the energy and motivation from somewhere and I have no choice but to spend hours. I felt obsessed by the thought of helping my mother in law in some way deal with death, yet I was not willing to address this with her in the physical. I felt I could help. I just did not know how, but to pray.
The trip to Canada was not uneventful. We did not know how long my mother in law would be conscious and the doctors believed she had days not weeks to live. There was a huge line through immigration but that did not matter. A customs officer saw us with a newborn and flagged us to the front of the line. We ran as fast as we could to meet up with a friend who was going to take us to the Vancouver Ferry on our way to Vancouver Island. When we arrived at the Ferry, the gates were already closing. My wife jumped out of her friend’s van and ran to convince the attendant that he had to let us on. This was the last Ferry of the day and we did not come this way to miss the opportunity for a reunion that night. The attendant consented and we boarded.
We got to the hospital at 7:30pm. My mother in law was very lucid and thrilled to see us and meet her grand-daughter. When I saw her I realized we made it by a hair. She looked emaciated and beyond recovery. I then turned my sights to her spirit. We all engaged in idle conversations about the weather in Denver, the children’s lives and my work at the university. Nothing too heavy, nothing too deep.
It was time to say goodbye for the night and put the kids to bed. I went to hold her hand and say goodbye when suddenly everything changed. She grabbed my hand tightly and I noticed she was trembling. She looked at me with bone-chilling fear in her eyes and said “Help me.” In an unusually calm voice I said “You don’t have to be afraid.” She released her grip and smiled. We then went home. After that first night, she was unable to carry on a coherent conversation. We were fortunate to have made that Ferry.
For the next five nights, I was not functioning on this plane of reality. I did not understand my feelings but I knew that I was inextricably linked to her death journey. I was experiencing strange physical sensations including an intense pain in my arm and a loss of appetite. I also noticed that I had gone a day without drinking water. We went to visit her at the hospital and continued our idle chats. She would only listen and not speak. Then one moment, she looked straight at me and blurted out in front of my father in law, my sister in law and my wife, “Are you ready?” Everyone looked at me and I froze. I was not prepared to ask the obvious follow up- “Ready for what”. So I ignored the question and we continued on with our chatter.
What did she mean by am I ready? Ready for what? I continued to pray and read spiritual books. After that day, she was no longer able to speak. She had stopped eating and drinking water but held on for a week after we arrived. The night before she died, I was wide awake at 2am. I sat in my insomniatic state on the stairs leading to the kitchen and then I had a moment of realization. Similar to the movie Angel Heart, when Mickey Roarke’s character sees a series of flashbacks that brings clarity to his current predicament, I clearly saw that she needed me to release her. I was given empathic insight into her illness through the pain in my arm and loss of appetite so that I could experience our spiritual union at a deeper level. I then said in a soft yet audible voice, “I am ready”. I went back to bed but could not fall asleep until 4am.
She died the following morning. I believe she died in peace. This type of experience with the dying has happened since and will undoubtedly happen again. It is one piece of a large puzzle that I hope will be synthesized in my new life. It has since evolved to helping confused spirits cross over who would rather spend the time keeping my daughters awake in their room. This is enough for now. We’ll save that for another day.
I felt a strong kinship with my mother in law. Primarily because like she, I worried too much about what others thought of me. I shared in her feelings of inadequacy and compensated by having a “work horse” type of ethic.
She once asked me “Dennis, do you think I am judgmental?” I said “Yes, I do. We all are.” I have to admit, I was afraid of being judged by her. She would have driven Julie from Julie and Julia crazy with her criticism of how to perfect deboning a chicken. I did not know how to wash the dishes correctly or set the table so I typically stayed clear away from the kitchen. My fascination with spirit was foreign to her so we did not speak about my extracurricular activities.
Christmas 2006 would go on the books as one of our greatest adventures. My wife was to be induced with our second child on December 22, 2006. My mother in law was determined to make a trip to Denver and meet her grand-daughter even with failing kidneys, round the clock transfusions and the threat of dialysis. If this prospect was not stressful enough, Denver had a blizzard the week prior and cancelled the flight she and my father in law were to be on. We were fortunate to live across the street from the fire department and I joked with my wife that we may need those good looking fireman to help me deliver. Fortunately the road was paved for us to be driven by our daughter’s angelic sitter to the hospital for the inducement on schedule. No sooner had we arrived home with our new daughter on Christmas Eve, than a new blizzard hit the area and cancelled the second flight my in laws were to be on. My mother in law then took a turn for the worse and was hospitalized for the last time.
Canada and the US had just passed a law requiring passports to travel to and from even for newborns. We made the decision to go to Canada and try to fulfill my mother in law’s last wish of seeing her second grand-daughter. With three feet of snow we headed to a post office and with my hand holding the head of our 5 day old child, we had a passport picture snapped and were on our way.
For two weeks prior to leaving for Canada, I was spending hours in our basement praying for my mother in law and for my wife. I was empathetic to the challenge they were experiencing and I welcomed joining them in this struggle through prayer.
At this point I have to say that I don’t normally spend hours in prayer for anybody. I have enjoyed mystical experiences throughout my life but am too lazy to have any consistent meditative discipline. So when I say, I was called to prayer, I truly mean I am given the energy and motivation from somewhere and I have no choice but to spend hours. I felt obsessed by the thought of helping my mother in law in some way deal with death, yet I was not willing to address this with her in the physical. I felt I could help. I just did not know how, but to pray.
The trip to Canada was not uneventful. We did not know how long my mother in law would be conscious and the doctors believed she had days not weeks to live. There was a huge line through immigration but that did not matter. A customs officer saw us with a newborn and flagged us to the front of the line. We ran as fast as we could to meet up with a friend who was going to take us to the Vancouver Ferry on our way to Vancouver Island. When we arrived at the Ferry, the gates were already closing. My wife jumped out of her friend’s van and ran to convince the attendant that he had to let us on. This was the last Ferry of the day and we did not come this way to miss the opportunity for a reunion that night. The attendant consented and we boarded.
We got to the hospital at 7:30pm. My mother in law was very lucid and thrilled to see us and meet her grand-daughter. When I saw her I realized we made it by a hair. She looked emaciated and beyond recovery. I then turned my sights to her spirit. We all engaged in idle conversations about the weather in Denver, the children’s lives and my work at the university. Nothing too heavy, nothing too deep.
It was time to say goodbye for the night and put the kids to bed. I went to hold her hand and say goodbye when suddenly everything changed. She grabbed my hand tightly and I noticed she was trembling. She looked at me with bone-chilling fear in her eyes and said “Help me.” In an unusually calm voice I said “You don’t have to be afraid.” She released her grip and smiled. We then went home. After that first night, she was unable to carry on a coherent conversation. We were fortunate to have made that Ferry.
For the next five nights, I was not functioning on this plane of reality. I did not understand my feelings but I knew that I was inextricably linked to her death journey. I was experiencing strange physical sensations including an intense pain in my arm and a loss of appetite. I also noticed that I had gone a day without drinking water. We went to visit her at the hospital and continued our idle chats. She would only listen and not speak. Then one moment, she looked straight at me and blurted out in front of my father in law, my sister in law and my wife, “Are you ready?” Everyone looked at me and I froze. I was not prepared to ask the obvious follow up- “Ready for what”. So I ignored the question and we continued on with our chatter.
What did she mean by am I ready? Ready for what? I continued to pray and read spiritual books. After that day, she was no longer able to speak. She had stopped eating and drinking water but held on for a week after we arrived. The night before she died, I was wide awake at 2am. I sat in my insomniatic state on the stairs leading to the kitchen and then I had a moment of realization. Similar to the movie Angel Heart, when Mickey Roarke’s character sees a series of flashbacks that brings clarity to his current predicament, I clearly saw that she needed me to release her. I was given empathic insight into her illness through the pain in my arm and loss of appetite so that I could experience our spiritual union at a deeper level. I then said in a soft yet audible voice, “I am ready”. I went back to bed but could not fall asleep until 4am.
She died the following morning. I believe she died in peace. This type of experience with the dying has happened since and will undoubtedly happen again. It is one piece of a large puzzle that I hope will be synthesized in my new life. It has since evolved to helping confused spirits cross over who would rather spend the time keeping my daughters awake in their room. This is enough for now. We’ll save that for another day.
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