Miracles

I started believing in miracles when I was a little girl and pondered under a tree. I was a rather arrogant child quite confident in my thinking abilities and I felt I could explain almost everything in the universe, everything except the tree. I remember clearly still how I thought if I would have created the world I surely would have thought of the birds and bees, the fish and other mammals, and all the elements known and unknown, but I could not imagine that I would have imagined a tree. I love trees and I am glad I did not create the world, for in my world there would be no trees. To me, the tree is a miracle. I can’t see a tree without knowing in my heart that anything and everything is possible.

October 1979. My father was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. His doctors thought his cancer was too advanced and sent him home to die. My mother sent him back. She told them she had three children in college and one in catholic school so she could not lose her husband just yet. One hundred eleven (111) days later, and with over seventy (70) hours worth of surgery behind him, my father came home a small, emaciated man. Within a year, he was back up to 200 pounds.

When my father was very ill I stopped in a Catholic church to pray which was quite the miracle in and of itself for I am not Catholic, despite my Mom’s best efforts and intentions. I stopped to pray for my Dad and my father’s mother, who had been dead six years at this time, came to visit me and simply said,

“He’s going to be alright.”

The interesting thing is that I did not question whether or not my grandmother’s spirit came to visit me; I simply believed she came to visit me and I believed what she had to say, so I stopped worrying. When I later shared this story with my Mother she remarked,

“Wootsie (for that is what we called her) wouldn’t be caught dead in a Catholic Church.”

My Intentions

I'm trying to take Dr. Wayne W. Dyer’s challenge and turn my intentions into my reality. As with everything I do, I have to over think this. You would think by now that with all my thinking I would become good at it, but alas, such is not the case. If anything, the more I think, the less my thoughts make any sense, at least to me anyway.

WEEK 1: Connecting to Intention
So here I am at the very beginning of the challenge stuck at the gate. In order for my intentions to become reality, I have to actually INTEND something. What are my intentions?

I figure I may as well start with the Note for some good ideas. Sounds reasonable, right? Big mistake. I tried to read through the 1,448 comments that were made to his note, but like many Facebook notes, most of his respondents lack the decency to write something meaningful, instead preferring to clutter the page with comments such as “Thanks very much” and “The world is a better place because of you”, as if that is supposed to help anyone.

Perhaps I should intend to stop thinking everything is about me.
Nah, that doesn’t work for me.

I jokingly wrote my sister (who invited me to the challenge) and said my intention was to “rule the world”. As much as I would love to rule the entire world (and would be great at it if I so desired), I think that would be quite lonely and would take a lot of work on my part. To make matters worse, once I became Absolute Ruler of the Galaxy, what would I strive for? Plus, people who try to rule even a small corner of the world usually end up being people I despise such as Madass Insane (Saddam Hussein) and Momar Needstodie Khadafi. I hate to speak ill of the dead and I don't like to wish the living ill, but Saddam had to go and I would love for Khadafi to share a scalping cup of bad coffee in Hell with him.

Nah, Ruler of the Universe doesn’t work for me.

There should be a Week 0. Week Oh: State your intention.
I intend to …
- Become as powerful a force in the world as I can become, without having to work too hard at it.
- Become super rich, without having to sell anything or do anything.
- Be healthy, without having to watch what I eat, exercise regularly, or get enough sleep.
- Be loved by everyone, without actually having to interact with anyone on a regular basis.
- Be the smartest person alive, without having to read anything or listen to those who know more.
- Grow another 3 meters taller.

Wait a minute. I’m stuck. That last one is just a dream. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to grow anymore. I stopped growing when I almost hit 5’4”. I’ve been working so hard trying to grow another ¼ inch that I’ve neglected to grow in other directions, well except for my waist and other parts of my body I wish would shrink.

I have figured out my intentions:

I intend to grow in a positive direction.

I intend to let go of those things which I know are unattainable and instead work on those things which are. I’m never going to be 19 again. 19 was such a wonderful year. I’ve had better years (such as every year since my son was born!) but 19 was so great that Steely Dan wrote a song about it. I’m going to make 48 so great that I’ll want to write my own song about it.

I’m not going to rule the world, but I can rule my life.

I may or may not become super rich, but I can earn more money, invest more wisely, and protect my assets. I can make better choices. I intend to take control of my financial well-being.

I can have a better body today than I did at 26, and I had an awesome body at 26. I know everything I knew back then plus I’ve learned a lot since then. The only thing that has changed is my desire, so now I just have to want it. I have to change my intentions and intend to be in great shape. I intend to maintain a healthy lifestyle.

I INTEND TO REACH MY FULL POTENTIAL AS A HUMAN BEING.

Those are huge intentions. I’m up to it.

http://promos.hayhouse.com/powerofintention/contest/

MY CLUTTERED MIND

Mine is a cluttered mind, full of facts and theories, hopes and fears, logic and emotion. My thoughts swirl around so loudly in my head that I’m most surprised the noise doesn’t disturb those around me. My very sensitive husband claims that most times, he can hear the noise of my brain. My as-sensitive son concurs.

Many times I sit down to pull the thoughts out of my brain hoping that the process of writing will free me from thought, but instead the act of emptying my thoughts onto paper allows the other thoughts to rattle around more freely, generating more noise until my head wants to explode, so I have to stop writing.

Many times I sit down at the computer hoping that the act of typing will force my thoughts to flow in a disciplined manner but instead I find that I am distracted by the blinking of the cursor. It is like the lighthouse beacon, prodding my thoughts to find their way to the space where the blinker once was.

So I stop writing, not because I have nothing to say but because I have so much to say and it feels as thought the thoughts will never end. If I thought my thoughts were worth sharing I would not be so disturbed but instead I read what I wrote and I think, “What was I thinking?”

Why do I think the things I think? I wonder how many people think as often or as deeply as I do, but more often I wish I could one of those people who think less.

So I google “cluttered mind” and discover that there are many who too, think too much, but that does not make me feel less alone. I naturally align myself more with Albert Einstein than the tattoo artist from Florida, but chances are that we are all three alike. That takes my thoughts to an entirely different situation which reminds me of a show my spouse taped for me on Attention Deficit Disorder. The show was close to 2-hrs so naturally I didn’t watch it all (though the portions I saw where done quite well!) but I know it was an excellent piece of work for one of the noted experts was Dr. Edward Hallowell, a man whose writings helped me understand far more of myself than my previous therapists. [In fact, as soon as Dr. Hallowell was showcased I stopped watching the show to get his book off the shelf, which according to my spouse is evidence of my ADHDI, as if we really needed more evidence.]

This is my cluttered mind. I start out thinking one thought and planning to go in one direction but I rarely end up at my destination. When I have something absolutely critical to think about I pull out my poster which has served me well for several decades. It reads, “FOCUS”.

I sat down to write about my emotions and why I haven’t been around much, but that was far too difficult a subject for today. I will save that for tomorrow, tomorrow.

Continuation

The problem with new beginnings is that it automatically implies an ending. Not much has changed about me since I was that little girl skipping to School #5 in Baltimore, Maryland. I am the same little girl, only larger and better informed. Yesterday as I was trying to explain the concept of infinity to my son, I realized that I still think many of the same thoughts, such as wondering how language came to be and if infinity truly is the largest number. How does one approach negative infinity? Despite my many years of formal education and so-called superior intellect, I fell back on the same explanation my oldest brother gave to me when I was a mere seven ... "think of the largest number you can think of and then add one".

To me infinity will always be "plus one". So, I don't do new beginnings because I can't let go of who I was yesterday in order to become who I want to be tomorrow.

Every time I say I'm going to change, my husband laughs, as I can only imagine that God also chuckles, if only just a wee bit. I say I'm going to be kinder, more compassionate, and less intolerant but that usually lasts less than a fleeting instant. I don't think I'm mean, but I know I am not kind. My mind doesn't see what my heart should feel. Being me, I've read several books on the subject and I can probably explain how the symphony in my brain has a conductor that can't quite seem to get all the instruments to play together, but you would have had to have read the book to know what I am talking about. I could explain how my neurons misfire in such a manner that I'm missing that pause between "think" and "do", but unless you are well verses in impulsivity, you'll just think it's Karen rambling on again. Instead, suffice it to say that I'm tired of trying to rewire my brain. As much as I enjoyed biofeedback, e-stem, psychological counseling, and other attempts to mold me into society definition of "normal", I'm not going to change.

If I were to change, who is to say it would be in a positive direction?

My Space

This is my space.

People who piss me off will be blocked.

Stupid people will be ridiculed.

Criminals will be exposed.

If you don't like it, too bad. Start your own space and talk about me.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Did I Do Anything to Make the World a Better Place Today?

Did I do anything today to make the world a better place? I don't know. I probably inspired four or five people, but why didn't I reach out to four hundred or five thousand?

I read a book, "The Good Black" by Paul M. Barrett. I grabbed it on my way out of the house because I couldn't find "The Mis-Education of the Negro", which I am re-reading for the third or fourth time. [If I were as smart as everyone thinks I am, I would have gotten it by the second go-round, but like "Go Rin No Sho" I go back to that book and although the pages seem familiar, I don't know these books as well as I know some of my other favorites such as "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People", "The Goal", "Jonathan Livingston Seagull", and of course "Fox in Socks".]

I hugged my son. He hugged me back. That always makes my world a better place. I know I shouldn't watch television and I usually don't, but this season I had to watch "Celebrity Apprentice" with HollyRod and Brett Michaels. We DVR'ed it and watched it as a family and used it as a teaching tool for the Bear. That Donald Trump is something else, and I saw in that show many of the mistakes I was committing and identified several of my gifts which I was not fully utilizing, so like Darryl Strawberry, I am grateful to have learned from "The Donald", even if my learning was filtered and controlled. I still remember the first time I went into one of his establishments. I was mesmerized with his attention to detail and his demand for perfection. I truly admire that. Hugging our son was great.

I stood up for right, at least twice. I opened someone's eyes to what was going on around them. I got involved in political debates with people who had opposing views as well as came to the defense of those who share my views. I helped an anonymous child simply because he needed my help. I think I made his world a better place.

I did the right thing instead of the easy thing or the fun thing simply because it was the right thing to do.

I've probably accomplished more than 96% of the general working population, but before this afternoon I could never understand why I couldn't seem to crack that 97th percentile. That's my glass ceiling. Then it dawned on me that I was not engaged. I was not passionate.

I used to think that I wasn't doing my part, but someone explained that all I was doing was my part. That's probably not the message they intended to send, but that is how I interpreted it. I am doing my part, but I am strong enough that I need to be showing others and encouraging others to do their part as well.

I must not only become part of the solution, but I must drive the solution. This is the fourth post I have written today, but the first time I've thought anything that truly mattered.

I've been quite diligent about praying in the morning and at evening, and I have found that my quiet time with God works well for me, especially when I share them with the Bear, even if that means I have to pray twice in the morning and twice at night since we are not on the same sleep schedule. [If I were as smart as I think everyone thinks I am, I probably should have been able to so the math and figure out that I'm praying at least four times per day, but I'm an engineer, not a mathematician!]

(After I post my "When I Was Younger I Wanted to Be A ..." that last comment will make more sense.)

Did you do anything to make any part of the world a better place?

Dashed Hopes

I had such high hopes of making the world a better place, but I have slowly accepted the inescapable reality that I am not that person.