I’ve changed, and this is a very good thing. In week one the word trust comes to mind. I trusted this was the right program for me. That spark within me had nudged me along for months before jumping in with both feet. I knew something magical was about to happen, if I would only follow without question or protest. So I gave my all and by week two, belief was the word of the day. I am both amazed and amused by how simple this program is if we just relax and let it happen.
Today, near the end of week three, I am certain of the outcome. I do not need to question. I know. I have deleted the word “will” in Og Mandino’s first scroll.
“I will form good habits and become their slave,” now reads, “I form good habits and am their slave.” I have moved away from living in a world of “…quiet desperation,” to one of certainty.
Mark Januszewski says in his blog this week that it feels good, “…to be overwhelmed with awareness.” Boy! Did that hit home. I am waking up! Although I am not new to the quest to find myself, I’ve made giant leaps in awareness these past three weeks. I’m even reading Haanel with more clarity. I mean…er…when I first started reading Haanel, I thought, when was this written? Had they not spoken English, yet? Or was it pure academic scribble…you know…the kind we need to read over and over, then stand on our heads in order to “get it.” Guess what? I’m “getting it” on the first read now.
Haanel writes, “Fear is the cloud that hides the sun.” Fear of failure. Fear of being laughed out of literary circles. Is it any wonder then that I’ve struggled for years to write my book, that I was mostly talk and very little action, sitting with hands perfectly poised over the keyboard, and hovering. Frozen, that is until I shed fear from my life.
Today, my solar plexus rules. When I look to my heart for love, I feel it in my solar plexus, my sun that radiates and starts spinning and buzzing and letting my light shine.
People often ask me, “What’s your book about.” I tell them it’s the story of my life, how I went from hard labor and poverty on a chicken farm to great wealth and power, (via a trip through hell and out), then losing it all before finding my true worth. If their eyes haven’t glazed over and they are still listening, I add that the book is about significance, about being of value, of being heard. I’ve always longed to be counted, to be relevant.
I’m beginning to feel that significance now.