Heidi Has A Halo

Finding my way with the help of a four-legged angel.

The Conclusion

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There was a time when I couldn’t quite imagine this day would come. During the month of January 2014, I created this blog, Heidi Has A Halo, and promised myself and my Heidi that I would complete an entry each and every week for a year – or more precisely until the anniversary of her transition out of this world. That day was January 2. I didn’t complete my entry that day, because plans were interrupted (or maybe it’s more accurate to say “life intervened”), and I wouldn’t have my final entry be one lacking in time, commitment and consideration – so I put it off till now. And now that I’m back home (after a week at my mom’s), it’s time to delve deep, to reminisce, to be grateful, to get in touch – and to… whatever else may come from this entry. The final entry. For now.

Heidi, my 9 1/2-year-old, four-legged best friend, left her physical body on January 2, 2014 at approximately 7 a.m. Devastation isn’t a strong enough word to describe the torture I felt when physically losing her became a reality. She was a large part of my identity. She was my source of pure joy. She was my best friend, my kid, and my littlest love guru all in one. She was a piece of me. And when her heart stop beating and she no longer inhaled, I was lost, ruined, broken.

The days that followed were the hardest days of my life. If I left my apartment, entering again was agonizing. I would drop to my knees at the place on the living room floor that she took her last breath. I cried out for her. I held her toys.

I fell asleep crying and awoke the same. The extra leg room at the foot of the bed might be comfortable to some but in this case was excruciating. Opening my eyes each day with my new reality was nearly impossible to bear. And then a peace came.

I went out into nature and journaled. Once, I journaled till dark at one of our favorite parks, and another time, I hiked one of our favorite trails till I came across a comfy place on a tree to write. I wrote freely. Every word that came to mind made it to the paper. I was connecting – to myself and to my Heidi and to something so big and powerful and pure. Clarity rushed over me. Death wasn’t so scary anymore. I felt her in the trees and in the wind, and I saw her in the sunset. I visualized Heidi running ahead of me with other four-legged family we’ve lost, and the picture in my mind felt natural, real and true. I still missed her so, but I was happy for her, too. That peace that surrounded me seemed to assure me of her bliss. She was no longer burdened by the ailments that pained her. She was free.

Two weeks after Heidi passed, I decided to start this blog, and committing to this endeavor is something I’m so very proud of. This experience has been uplifting, difficult, therapeutic, painful, insightful, interesting, burdensome, exciting, disciplined and so much more. I’ve had my good days and my bad, and similarly, I’ve had some really great, motivational, heartfelt entries – and others that probably read like I was in a rush to fulfill an obligation to writing. But without fail, I wrote – each and every week – and here I am now.

I couldn’t be more grateful to Heidi who I still love with my whole heart. To know her was to love her, and I was so very blessed to be touched my her angelic spirit. Her presence in my life was utterly heavenly. She taught me true love. Dogs are quite miraculous in that way, and Heidi, well, she was extraordinary.

With her death came immense pain but also immense gratitude for the years I spent living in such close proximity to one so pure and full of love. I will never forget how moved I was by that little girl; I remain inspired today.

With her death came this knowing – a knowing that seemed to tell me: Love is what’s important in this life, and all else is secondary. I gained perspective. I gained clarity. I was no longer so concerned with what people thought of me or whether or not I would be “successful.” Suddenly, I lived often in the moment, and I focused much of my attention on being loving. I was on to something!

As the months passed, I found myself slip away from that light. Some days I fell into complete darkness while other days I was merely disconnected and out of sync with that Source I had felt so connected to. Call it God or my higher self or the Universe – but that power that found me at my time of desolation didn’t feel so near anymore. So, I worked on getting back to that place, and I did. I read and read and read books that inspire and motivate and drive me to strive toward connectedness. I meditated. I prayed. I read some more. I wrote. I experienced true happiness. And then I’d put down my books for weeks and lose it again.

I’ve learned spirituality is like a muscle, and we have to continue to exercise it. The power of the mind can influence us in such a way that we forget who we truly are. Thinking can be so destructive. We get lost in the troubles of the world, and we become completely absorbed by our egos – unless we strive to remain present, focused in the Now, connected to God.

I’ve learned more this past year than I have any other year of my life. I started the year off with pain and confusion. I quit acting and stand up comedy. I found my way through writing. I adopted Grace (my beautiful, silly, copper-colored boxer love), and I really began to figure out who I am. Then, I picked acting and stand up comedy (again) mid-way through the year. I devoted hours and days to both those crafts – as well as writing – and I scheduled each of my days the best I could in order to succeed at also being a good dog and cat mama, girlfriend, daughter, friend and sister. Some days felt overwhelming. Many were so much fun. I figured it out. And I figured me out a little bit more.

Last month, our family was hit with another painful loss when my Auntie Marsha said goodbye to this physical world and left it to return Home. Death is so painful for those of us left behind, and much of my family has been grieving. Losing my Auntie Marsha brought upon a plethora of emotions, and I’ve been sorting through each and every one – working hard to make sense of them all.

I’m going to share a very personal story now. In doing so, I’m being incredibly vulnerable. Here goes… My Auntie Marsha transitioned out of her physical body on a Friday. I didn’t work that night. I spent much of the day on the phone with my mom who mourned for her sister. I didn’t want to go out that night, so I bought some Indian food and stayed in with Grace and Ninny Muggins. I wanted to be close to the phone, and I wanted to be on Facebook – where the many, many members of my family continued to reach out to one another. I wanted to be as near to my family as possible – even though I’m hundreds of miles away. I began to cry. I had cried many times already that day, but this time I felt more in touch, for lack of a better word. I began to cry and talk to my Auntie. I began to pray, aloud, for my cousins (her daughters) and for my mom. And then I felt her. Without words, I felt an outpour of warmth and love surround me, and I felt a sort of message come through. It felt as though she was looking down on me, smiling (maybe even laughing a little) and saying to me, “You’re so precious and cute and sweet.” I laughed. I felt like the shy, little girl I used to be caught red-handed being all those things she told me I was. Ordinarily, I don’t like being talked to like I’m a child, but this was different. It was pure love, and I loved feeling like a little girl in that moment. I was overjoyed. I called my mom to tell her about my experience, and she told me those are the words my Auntie Marsha always used to describe me. I was and am grateful for that interaction. I will be forever.

My Auntie’s passing also brought intense fear from within me. What would I ever do without my mom? How could I live without her? My Auntie’s sudden death shocked us all, and my mom started asking me if I would take care of her animals if she, too, were to leave her physical body soon. I did my best to remain calm when on the phone with my mom who was longing to hear her sister’s voice once more, but as soon as we’d get off the phone, my fear escalated into something that began to haunt me. Suddenly, all the spiritual improvement I’d achieved throughout the year was absent, and I was sinking into a dark hole. Once again, “success” tormented me. If I don’t start making better money, how will I ever be able to help my mom move closer to me? Losing my mom became my biggest fear. I had to find peace again.

Spending this past week with my mama was beautiful. We worked our butts off packing for her move nearer to her brother’s house, and yet we had fun. I am grateful for her. I’m grateful for her insight, her spirituality, her beauty. She reminds me of a truth I already know in my heart, and I know we’ll spend many more years together in this life – and eternity together in another.

Once again, I find myself back where I was at the start of last year. My soul urges me to write, and my drive to focus only on writing is fierce. My desire to continue stand up comedy and acting is no longer present, and I don’t know what that means. I make no promises. I don’t know what the future holds. Maybe I’m being fickle. But I know my spirit is communicating something to me, and I need to be present to listen. Write, write, write. That’s all I can think and feel. So that’s what I shall keep doing. I love it. I’m good at it. And I’ve been doing some form of it or another for a decade and have never tired of it. That’s where I’m being called… for now.

I am grateful to 2014 – and to the journeys throughout it. I am grateful to the loves (the people, the animals) of my life; they are exceptional. I am grateful to this knowing that speaks to me when I’m ready to listen, and I’m grateful for the breath in my body that permits me the time, today, to be and love and live. 

As this entry comes to a close, I feel both sadness and eagerness. This chapter of my life is coming to an end, and truly, it has been so good to me. As this door closes, I look forward to meeting the one that opens. I love my past and who it has made me; I embrace my present and what it creates in me; and I will greet my future with an open heart. May the next journey begin. So be it. So it is.

To my Wittlest, Dearest, most Precious Angel,

I asked you to guide me, and you have. Your love is something I could never describe with any and all vocabulary, and I am eternally grateful to know your spirit. Thank you for entering my life, for guiding me, for teaching me, for loving me, and for letting me shower my love onto you. Thank you for the years you gave to me. Thank you for the imprint you made on my soul. I will always love you. I will never forget you. And it is my truest belief that I will see you again, that our souls will rejoice when we reunite. I love you. Thank you. You are precious. Your birthday, June 19, will forever be a holiday in our home. ❤

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The Machine

Another week passes, and I nearly miss my weekly entry deadline once again. I wouldn’t have allowed myself to forget, but the holidays are sure busy, hectic and emotional.

Once again, I’ve been uncertain of what to write about this week. I’ve continued feeling a bit similar to last week (for lack of a better word: yucky), but I don’t want to write something so “Debbie Downer” again – although that’s exactly what I was going to do until I made a trip to northern California to visit my mama.

Getting out of L.A. has been emotional in itself (in a good way). I love my boyfriend dearly – and I’ve known this beyond a shadow of a doubt – but on the 8-hour drive up north, I missed him like crazy (almost literally CRAZY) and realized how important it is that I never take him (or anyone I love) for granted. Life is short; it’s true. And it would be so much more fulfilling if we spent our time here loving and appreciating those we truly do love and appreciate (yet forget we do all too often).

I suppose all this goes back to being vs doing. It’s so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of life and the drive and perseverance associated with success that we merely forget to just be. All of the sudden, simply being who I am isn’t good enough unless I’ve achieved something or am close to accomplishing some goal. But none of this is true. It’s what we tell ourselves in this society, but it’s completely false.

This month has been painful. I’ve longed for Heidi – who passed nearly one year ago. I’ve grieved for my beautiful Auntie Marsha who’s hangin’ out in Heaven (with Heidi). I’ve talked with friends suffering from their own sets of painful loss and other life-altering issues. And I realized: we all love; and we all grieve; we all have both good times and bad. And in the end, nothing is going to matter except the time we spend loving – and I surely want for this powerful, profound and beautiful emotion to outweigh the others.

I haven’t achieved all of the things I’ve set out to do. (I’ve achieved some.) And I while I don’t know that I’ll experience every single thing I’ve ever desired EVER, I know I’ll experience some more. Some of my experiences will be amazing, and others will hurt, and this is life.

It truly is “the little things” in life that bring us great joy. It’s the feeling of the wind on your skin and the warmth and smell of a wood stove burning in the cold winter. It’s the prancing of a playful puppy and the laugh of your closest family and friends. It’s those moments that make us completely present – that let us forget about the past or future. It’s the moments in which we’re truly being. While I would surely fancy a badass job and a humongous paycheck, I know it would all be worthless without the people (and animals) I love to share it with. It would be worthless unless I was present to experience it. It would be worthless without true joy. (All this sounds cheesy and cliche, I know. But it’s cheesy, cliche and 100% truth.)

As I sit here typing away on my mom’s computer, Grace (my adopted, four-legged kid) and Zoser (my mom’s adopted, four-legged kid) are wrestling all over this house… As I said earlier, it’s been nearly a year since Heidi left this world, and it’s been several years since my mom’s beautiful Rottweiler, Tonka, passed on, too. As puppies, Tonka and Heidi would wrestle and run and run and run and wrestle each other all the livelong day. Watching their pure delight brought us humans much joy. Their happiness was contagious, and we’ve since missed those days so badly. We’ve missed our four-legged best friends, and it’s been all too painful.

But today, we’ve been able to support West Coast Boxer Rescue and their efforts to rescue pups in need by fostering and adopting these rambunctious, little monsters (who are getting too close to breaking expensive lamps), and we are overjoyed to benefit from loving and receiving love once again. We hold the fondest memories of our loved ones who have passed inside our hearts, and we pray we’ll meet again. That love is forever untouchable and sacred. We will never forget.

All a while life goes on… It’s almost mechanical in that way. Like a machine, it can be well-oiled or not, but it’s still a machine. It might run really well, or it might operate poorly (or it might just completely break down on you and require a mechanic), but we still have to deal with it in some way. It’s forever changing, and that’s all we can count on. We can choose to accept it and be, or we can resist it and fight Life till the end.

I am grateful for this reminder. It’s time to stop resisting, surrender and choose to make Life an ally. I learned this from a yoga instructor, and I’ve definitely said it before: Non-resistance gives me peace.

Dearest, Wittlest, Chutiest Monkey… I love you so. As this year comes to a close, I see how far I’ve come. I see that there have been days (sometimes weeks) in which I’ve taken several steps back before even inching forward, but I’ve grown and learned and grieved and loved. This journey began with you. I am grateful. I love you and your little spirit forever.

This, Too, Shall Pass

After this week, I have two weeks left to complete a year of weekly blogging since my Heidi’s transition January 2 (nearly one year ago). This entire year has been a learning experience – full of growing, grieving, loving, longing, laughing and, of course, pain. Last week my beautiful Auntie left this physical world and entered the world I truly believe we all came from but no longer remember. My family has been grieving. My heart breaks for those in so much pain. My heart breaks for those in pain all around this world. This world is brutal, yet beautiful. I hate it, and I love it. My mind will never understand it. I’m lost.

Which brings me to today. This is the first week in all the weeks I’ve dutifully fulfilled my promise to add an entry to mine and my Heidi’s blog that I nearly forgot to write anything at all. The week was busy. Tis the season. Yada, yada, yada. BUT IF I HAD FORGOTTEN TO BLOG THIS WEEK, I WOULD HAVE BEEN SO DISAPPOINTED. It’s not always been easy to find the inspiration to write. Some weeks were tough. Others were so full of inspiration that the words seemed to flow freely – as if my hands were receiving some magical message from a heavenly entity, driving my little fingers to type, type, type away. But that’s not today, and that’s not this week. I’m sad. I’m tired. I’m a little hopeless.

One of my hopes when first beginning this journey, Heidi Has A Halo, was that I would grow into the person I was meant to be by way of speaking truthfully about myself and my life while searching for the answers I long to know. At this moment in time, I can’t say I have many of those answers.

The biggest truth that speaks to me in this very instant is this: This, too, shall pass. Yes, I mean my sadness, my borderline poverty, the ache in my neck and the emptiness in my heart. But I also mean to say: Those joys that come with successes, achievements and relationships will also pass – for there is no permanency in anything. The people and animals and places we love most can be gone tomorrow. And this is life.

This all sounds incredibly depressing, I’m sure, but maybe it’s not supposed to be. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve failed to read from any of the incredible books / spiritual teachings that keep me from madness. (I’ve allowed myself to forget those good habits I formed, but I know I’ll get back on track here real soon – because I HAVE TO.) But as I’ve said before, I’ve learned the power is in the Now, and I truly believe that. That’s the biggest truth I know. I don’t know what happens in the future, and the past is only the past because I remember it in this Now. So, “this, too, shall pass” is a beautiful lesson to us all. This life is ever-changing. Identifying with any part of it will ultimately bring about pain when change occurs.

Still uninspired and melancholy, I’m not going to write anymore today. (But I’m so glad I didn’t forget this week!) My goal for my last two entries is to delve deep and spend time pondering and writing – especially my final entry which will be on the year anniversary of Heidi’s transition from this world. But for the rest of this day, I plan to take it easy with my wonderful boyfriend who has been kind enough to let me lean on him this month. We’re going to get lost in a fun movie and medicate with comfort food. This moment is all I have, so tonight, I’m not stressing over the future; instead, I’m eating eggplant parmesan. 🙂 And this, too, shall pass…

Dearest Monkey, I am missing you this season, and our memories make me feel all kinds of things. I love you so.

Remembering Auntie Marsha

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When I think of my Auntie Marsha, I think of silly and precious animal videos like the one of a Boxer pup on a trampoline or the sweet Golden mommy’ing the baby chicks. I think of the silly way in which she talks to our precious animals and the voices we all use that demonstrate immense love. I think of the sister who called me numerous times to not only make sure my mama, her little sister, was being cared for post surgery, but also to discuss her sister’s birthday, and finally, to assure that my mama would have the support and friend she would need as my Auntie Marsha’s body prepared to say goodbye to this world. I think of a loving mother, a devoted grandmother and an adoring aunt. That is my Auntie Marsha.

When I think of my Auntie Marsha, I feel something significant. I feel her warmth and her love. It’s palpable. And it’s profound. As my mom said, it’s like a blanket. That is my Auntie Marsha.

This morning, my beautiful and glorious and strong Auntie Marsha began her journey back home. She left the pain of her body behind. She is free.

So many of us love her, and right now, my heart goes out to her beautiful and strong daughters, my cousins, Jaime, Megan and Ginny. Their grief breaks my heart. I love them, and I’m so sorry for their pain. Oh, how she must have worried about those she would leave behind. Their mama, my dearest Auntie Marsha, was and is and will forever be beyond special. That is my Auntie Marsha.

Like so many other Earthlings, I have questions about death. I want to know: Why? Where do we go? And most importantly, Will we all be together again? I’ve pondered this painful subject a long time.

A peace came over me today – a peace I remember feeling after my Heidi’s transition. There is still a connectedness we feel to our loved ones after their physical bodies pass on, and it’s not an illusion. It feels very real to me. Yesterday, I said to my own sister, “I just want to know we’ll all see each other again.” She assured me we would, yet how could she know? But that same Peace that visited me today seemed to promise me we would, and we do. That same Peace even removed some of my fear and allowed me to enter into a state of Presence. For this reminder, I am grateful.

I haven’t lost many loved ones in my life, but the physical absence of those who have transitioned on has been terribly painful. But I do believe that in death comes something words cannot express, something that those of us still bound to this world have difficulty realizing and knowing. I believe we go home. And my Auntie Marsha’s truest, purist, Heavenliest self was ready to return.

I want to take this moment to say I love you to my Auntie Marsha whose spirit is beautiful and glorious and bright. I want to take the moment to say I love you to my amazing mama who is my dear friend and a strong, beautiful and enlightened woman. I want to take this moment to say I love you to my cousins who are hurting and to all my family.

Our family has experienced so much pain, and I pray for healing for each and every one of you. In honor of your loving mother and sister, and our precious Auntie, and everyone’s friend, let us all love her with our whole hearts and love each other to our fullest capacity.

Dearest Auntie Marsha, I haven’t seen you in person since I was a little girl, but I loved keeping in touch with you on Facebook, and I adored hearing you on speaker phone while you and my mom talked about everything under the sun. I’m blessed to be your niece. Thank you. I love you.

I always take a moment at the end of each entry to honor my Heidi whose transition out of this physical world brought upon a grand change in the way in which I view this life. I am eternally grateful for my special friend and teacher and angel, my Monkey. I miss you and I love you.

In the words of Diana Ross:

“…Someday, we’ll be together. Yes we will. Yes we will.”

Sticks and Stones

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We’ve all heard it at one point or another: It doesn’t matter what people say; Don’t let others affect you; Sticks and stones may break my bones…; Opinions are like assholes… All of the above are designed to make us feel better when we feel rejected or hurt by someone, and all of the above are true statements and EXCELLENT lessons to take from life. But I’ll be the first to admit: it’s not always easy to develop that thick skin that creates a barricade against hurtful words.

Sometimes I wonder why I chose the path I did in this life. At times, I honestly question whether or not it’s all Karmic – like maybe I’m making up for my past or for my past-life mistakes by experiencing a series of constant rejections and painful put downs. I’m sure any soldier would hate hearing me say this, but I’m going to: Striving to survive in the entertainment industry is like boot camp in that we’re being broken down and dissected. The difference is there is no hardcore drill sergeant who [hopefully] has our best interest at heart and is only breaking us down to later build us up.

I’ve been told I need to fix my teeth (which isn’t cheap – assuming I even want braces). I’ve been called a bad actor. I’ve been told I’m not funny. My writing has been picked apart. And to think: I signed up for this! But did I really? Does anyone? We don’t always ask for the opinions of others, but most of the time it doesn’t matter. Some people think what they have to say needs to be said.

In this industry we’re constantly told we suck. So, we have to surround ourselves with good, loving people who are there to catch us when we fall, and I am fortunate to know some great people who have picked me up time and time again.

This week was rough, and I received some painful criticism from someone I deemed important. My talent was condemned (dramatic, I know, but it’s how it felt). The criticism caused me to question everything and ask myself: Am I good enough? It took me awhile  before I answered the question with a “YES!

Lucky for me, I was immediately shown love when I reached out to a number of friends and family. Several people jumped to my defense and even brought with them reinforcements (in the form of love and support), and I am INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL to those people. I am incredibly grateful for the relationships I have with the amazing people in my life, so THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU if you are one of them.

I wish I could be a little more like a duck, meaning: I wish I was better at “shaking it off.” But that’s not really my strong point, as of yet, and I’ve come to find I am a highly sensitive person.

In today’s society, we’re taught that being sensitive is a weakness, so I’ve always tried to pretend I’m unaffected (while in public). But it’s bullshit, and I am sensitive, and that’s perfectly OK. I’m vulnerable – and vulnerability is not weakness; instead, it shows strength and demonstrates bravery. So no, I don’t need to be “less sensitive,” but I do need to live in the place of I love myself completely, because it is in that place that I might get really good at allowing painful criticism to roll off my back.

I miss you always, My Monkey. I’ve been so blessed to love you and know you.

Thankful

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Happy Thanksgiving to All!!!

On this day last year, my boyfriend was out of town, so me and Heidi and my vicious kitty, Ninny Muggins spent the morning together. Heidi woke up excited. She was having one of her good days, and I was so THANKFUL for that. We spent our morning cooking for a “Friends Giving” we had planned on attending later that evening. I’m a Tofurky gal myself, but Heidi was not. For dinner, she had turkey and mashed potatoes. (The photo above is from Thanksgiving.)

At “Friends Giving,” Heidi had nearly too much fun chasing itty bitty dogs around my friend’s house. She loved small dogs. They posed no threat. And she still “boxed” with them – despite their inabilities to do the same.

On the way home, she passed out in the passenger’s seat like the tired kid she was. She was sleepy, and I was full – not just of food but of love and contentment. Heidi was happy. She was feeling good. I’m remembering her now… and my cup runneth over.

I am so thankful for so many things – especially for Heidi. I was blessed to spend nearly ten years with the most amazing four-legged angel in my world. She taught me to love more than I knew possible, and she has since guided me to the place I am now.

In the 9 1/2 years I spent loving Heidi in the physical, I grew more than I would have ever anticipated. From day one, I knew she was special, but I had no idea what was to come – the deep, out-of-this-world connection we would have.

Heidi helped me through the toughest moments in my life – including her own transition out of this physical world. Our bond was and is untouchable and sacred.

I’m spending this Thanksgiving with my amazing boyfriend, Ninny Muggins and Grace – the sweet, silly and special boxer girl we adopted in the spring. I will never experience another holiday with my Heidi in the physical, but she’s with me in a deeper, very real, formless way each and every day.

I’m thankful to have been moved to adopt our sweet Grace, and I look forward to many healthy years and abundant holidays together. ❤

Thank you, my Monkey. I love you so.

Checks and Balances

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Eckhart Tolle and Dr. Joe Dispenza are among my favorite spiritual teachers and authors. Thus far (in this lifetime), nothing keeps me quite on track like regularly reading from one of these brilliant authors’ books. I’ve experienced much more peace and joy in my life since making my spirituality a priority, and I intend on continuing this journey for the rest of my life (big commitment, I know). But lately I’ve been struggling to marry the two forms of teaching, and while both authors (and many others) have incredible insight and have affected me greatly, I sometimes struggle with which path to take. I’d like to take both. (I’m probably over-thinking this.)

Over-thinking? That’s a given. But allow me to continue – because I just might find my truth while typing, typing, typing away.

Let me start with Eckhart… His teachings remind us to stay Present; to do every single task at hand with one of the “three modalities” (which are acceptance, joy and enthusiasm). He teaches that it is our egos that crave “things” and allow us to feel “separate” from the rest of the world. He touches on the teachings of Buddha who said to be free of pain we need to cut the bonds of desire.

(I’ve just took what I’ve learned from two Eckhart Tolle books and wrote a measly few sentences on the matter – which doesn’t do it justice.)

And then there’s Dr. Joe Dispenza (also so brilliant). He talks about quantum physics (fascinating stuff). He explains, in terms I can actually understand, how our brains and bodies work together to create both good and [more often] bad habits that form the foundation for how we live our lives. Like Tolle, Dispenza also urges us to remain present, BUT he pushes us to create our futures, whereas Eckhart Tolle helps me to accept.

Here’s where I struggle: Buddha says that pain and suffering arise through desire and cravings and to be free of that suffering we need to cut the bonds of desire, BUT how then do we simultaneously strive for the greatness we, well, desire?

Is it merely my ego that wants to experience a career in the arts? Will I ever be able to achieve one while simply Being Present?

I’d like to experience both. In the months leading up to right-this-second, I’ve come to find the great power that lives in this moment – and only in this moment. There is no fear here. It’s safe, and it’s powerful (and this is coming from someone who only sticks around in the Now for small moments of time). Having said that, I do want to experience more! I do want “things” – because it would be fun!

Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Joe Dispenza talks about the importance of remaining in this moment, but he uses the moment to create. Quantum physics tells us that our bodies have the same experience whether or not we actually physically experience something or we merely think about physically experiencing something. So, Dr. Joe teaches us to create that desired future event while remaining in this moment. Let yourself truly feel what it would feel like to experience that job, that vacation or that relationship. Quantum physics tells us that like attracts like. Once you are vibrating at the frequency of your desired outcome, those experiences/events/etc. will make their way to you.

Similarly, Eckhart Tolle reminds us of these powerful words spoken by Jesus: Whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. Essentially, Dr. Joe Dispenza is saying the same thing that Jesus said. Eckhart Tolle is saying the same thing. It’s as if these teachers are are playing the same song with different instruments. Am I tone deaf?

I know there’s a massive power in the present moment, and I know that nothing outside of myself can bring me true joy. That being said, I still have the desire to experience more of life. I want to “break the habit of being myself” and lose the negative mindset that reminds me and my life experience that I believe “life is tough, so keep giving me what I put out, Universe.” I want to create my future. I want to have fun, be joyful, be enthusiastic. All the while, I want to be Present and accepting. I want to un-identify with form and know the inner peace that comes with doing so (doing is the wrong word, but I’ll go with it).

Overall, I’m trying to figure out how I can make both teachings (and others, too) work for me. No, that’s not right… Both teaching already have worked for me. I’ve gained much wisdom and peace and enthusiasm and joy from both. But can they coexist at the same time? Or do I tap into one or the other based on the situation and/or my need – like some form of nongovernmental checks and balances? So far, that feels right, because both these dudes are gRRReat (and so are many others like: Marianne Williamson, Dr. Joe Vitale, Abraham Hicks, etc.) I guess I should just read what I need, and STOP THINKIN’ SO DARN MUCH! (Stop thinking. It always boils down to that!)

I love you, Heidi. Thank you for guiding me.