A Conversation With "Self"
"All is in Divine Order, everything happens for a reason, all is moving towards the highest good of all," I whisper over and over again to myself, hoping to ward off the tears of frustration that are quickly winning the battle with my illusion of self-control.
"Why am I doing this?" I ask my Self.
"That's a good question, why are you doing this?" my Self responds with her obnoxiously calm voice.
"I don't have a choice. And how the hell can you be so calm? We just drove two days to get here!"
"Sure you have a choice. You always have a choice. And, don't forget, I was in the car with you. We had a blast. We laughed; we meditated, we wrote, and sang and had fun with Brent! What are you complaining about?"
"You wouldn't be saying that if you experienced what I have!" I whine, feeling a little dismissed by my Self.
"Maybe, maybe not; but this isn't about me is it?"
"You are me!"
"Am I?"
I have to admit, this is only a portion of the inner dialogue I had with my many selves during our travels last week. There's only so far you can run from your "selves" when you're confined to the front seat of a tightly packed car, driving up and down I-95, and living out of a bag that is stuffed with more pillows than clothes.
And, tonight was the kicker. 13 hours in the car, sweat from the Florida humidity rolling down my forehead, 90 minutes of setting up the Medicine Wheel and our display table, and no one shows up!
Disappointing? Embarrassing, humiliating, a waste of time?
"God, this is ridiculous. You've got to be kidding me!" I say, shaking my head.
Brent and I patiently wait about 40 minutes before we begin to pack up the CD's and books we had just hauled out of the hot car into the equally as hot building.
I begin to break down the Medicine Wheel; carefully wrapping the Buddha, Mary, Jesus, the Star of David, my statue of Ganesha and all of the candles, stones, and trinkets people have gifted to the wheel over the last year.
Truth, forgiveness, peace, compassion, beliefs, stories, power, faith, unity; one-by-one I place the 41 hand-painted stones back into the worn baskets that house them between our various workshops and retreats.
The rocks are mocking me. They're laughing so hard I swear I'll soon see tears rolling out of the smooth stones that feel more like my enemies than my friends right now.
I find myself tempted to find a dumpster and unload the weight of my heartbreak so I don't have to travel with it anymore. I fantasize about how much more space we would have if I just tossed it all in the garbage.
"I'm not really sure you should throw this all away. Maybe you can find a recycle bin, or drop it off at Good Will so someone else can use it."
"Oh shut up!" I say back to my Self, my eyes rolling at the sound of my own inner voice. "Your sarcasm isn't helping me here."
"Hey, you're the one talk'in trash. I mean, come on! Are you really going to throw away a gift you've been asked to share? You are hours away from being done editing the book!"
"It's just too hard. I can't do this anymore. I'm tired. And irritated. And pissed."
"OK, so quit. Quit what you're doing. Close it all down. Throw the book in the trash. Burn the cards. Delete the files. Dream up another dream. Go get a job."
"I don't want to. That's not why I'm here. I'd rather die."
"Now we're getting somewhere. So you do want this."
"No. I don't want this. I'm tired of the struggle. I want something different. I want more and I want less. More ease and less stress."
"OK, so what does more ease and less stress look like to you?"
"I'm teaching, writing, ministering, healing. Brent and I are creating and sharing our music and working and serving together. "
"You're already doing all these things. Every day. For years. Together."
"I want to start a church, a center, a sanctuary for healing, and learning, and growing, and awakening, and community."
"You have one. It's called the Power of Our Way Community."
"Yeah, but. . ."
"Yeah, but what?"
"Well, I need-or at least I feel like I need-to be physically with people a lot more than I am right now. I am being asked to serve in a different way - a bigger way-again. I'm feeling frustrated because of what I've come to know and what I've seen as possible. I want so badly to share it with as many people as I can. I am actually in pain over this!"
"Pain over what? Your picture of how? Your picture of what would be enough and what isn't? Your time frame? The numbers of people who show up or don't show up? Money?"
"I know why I am here. I know why I create what I create and what I am to be and do!"
"Well, than that makes you one of the luckiest people on the planet. You found your soul calling and your soul mate! You have beautiful children, amazing pets, incredible friends, and many gifts and talents that most would only dream of. Plus, you have a bigger collection of miracles than anyone you know and a capacity to navigate challenges with a smile like no one I've ever met."
"We've been through some crap haven't we?" And some pretty amazing miracles!" I say, feeling the shift into gratitude.
"Yeah, you should write a book about it."
"I should, shouldn't I?"
We stand there in silence. Me and me. Human self, higher self. Little me and big me. My big girl, my little girl. Whatever. We just stand there, looking up at the ever-expanding sky. I take in a breath and a long and deep sigh seems to carry away all of the weight I was feeling.
It's beautiful. My favorite time of day. Purples, pinks, oranges, and blues swirling and dancing in complete joy. They don't need anyone watching them to be beautiful. They just are. The heavenly view changes a million times as the sun and moon blow kisses into the sky and wave hello and goodbye in their magical changing of the guard.
"It's been a hot one," says the sun. "I'll cool things down," smiles the moon. "I'll help!" the wind giggles as he blows a loving and cooling breeze across my face.
"Hey," I take in a deep breath and say to my Self, "thanks for being here. And thanks for being so honest and patient with me."
"Where else would I be? We're kind of stuck with each other."
"Thank God."
"Yeah, thank God."
As I shove the last of the boxes and close the rear door of my stuffed-to-the- hilt car, my eye catches my bumper sticker-the one bumper sticker I've ever been willing to adorn on any car I've ever owned.
Will Work For Peace
I smile as I climb into the passenger seat, making sure I've got my journal, pens, my little pillow, my book, and a bottle of water. I look over at Brent and we both shrug our shoulders and laugh. Everything I need is literally within inches of me. Most is inside of me. All is surrounding me.
"You've got it pretty good don't you?" my wise Self says with her eyebrows slightly raised, as if she is peeking over a pair of invisible spectacles.
"Yeah," I smile to my Self, nodding with agreement. "I'm the luckiest woman on the planet."
"Let's go get something to eat. You've got a big week ahead of you; a lot of places to be, and a lot of people to see! It's kind of nice to have the night off isn't it?" my Self winks back at me, glancing at my handsome hunk of a husband with a sly grin. "Go have some fun tonight girlfriend!"
"Indian?" I ask my increasingly sexy looking husband. "Indian sounds good!" Brent says, "Then, let's go ahead and make the rest of the drive to Jacksonville," he winks back.
"All is in Divine Order, everything happens for a reason, all is moving towards the highest good of all," I whisper over and over again to my Self.
"Did you ever doubt it?" she giggles.
"All is in Divine Order, everything happens for a reason, all is moving towards the highest good of all," I whisper over and over again to myself, hoping to ward off the tears of frustration that are quickly winning the battle with my illusion of self-control.
"Why am I doing this?" I ask my Self.
"That's a good question, why are you doing this?" my Self responds with her obnoxiously calm voice.
"I don't have a choice. And how the hell can you be so calm? We just drove two days to get here!"
"Sure you have a choice. You always have a choice. And, don't forget, I was in the car with you. We had a blast. We laughed; we meditated, we wrote, and sang and had fun with Brent! What are you complaining about?"
"You wouldn't be saying that if you experienced what I have!" I whine, feeling a little dismissed by my Self.
"Maybe, maybe not; but this isn't about me is it?"
"You are me!"
"Am I?"
I have to admit, this is only a portion of the inner dialogue I had with my many selves during our travels last week. There's only so far you can run from your "selves" when you're confined to the front seat of a tightly packed car, driving up and down I-95, and living out of a bag that is stuffed with more pillows than clothes.
And, tonight was the kicker. 13 hours in the car, sweat from the Florida humidity rolling down my forehead, 90 minutes of setting up the Medicine Wheel and our display table, and no one shows up!
Disappointing? Embarrassing, humiliating, a waste of time?
"God, this is ridiculous. You've got to be kidding me!" I say, shaking my head.
Brent and I patiently wait about 40 minutes before we begin to pack up the CD's and books we had just hauled out of the hot car into the equally as hot building.
I begin to break down the Medicine Wheel; carefully wrapping the Buddha, Mary, Jesus, the Star of David, my statue of Ganesha and all of the candles, stones, and trinkets people have gifted to the wheel over the last year.
Truth, forgiveness, peace, compassion, beliefs, stories, power, faith, unity; one-by-one I place the 41 hand-painted stones back into the worn baskets that house them between our various workshops and retreats.
The rocks are mocking me. They're laughing so hard I swear I'll soon see tears rolling out of the smooth stones that feel more like my enemies than my friends right now.
I find myself tempted to find a dumpster and unload the weight of my heartbreak so I don't have to travel with it anymore. I fantasize about how much more space we would have if I just tossed it all in the garbage.
"I'm not really sure you should throw this all away. Maybe you can find a recycle bin, or drop it off at Good Will so someone else can use it."
"Oh shut up!" I say back to my Self, my eyes rolling at the sound of my own inner voice. "Your sarcasm isn't helping me here."
"Hey, you're the one talk'in trash. I mean, come on! Are you really going to throw away a gift you've been asked to share? You are hours away from being done editing the book!"
"It's just too hard. I can't do this anymore. I'm tired. And irritated. And pissed."
"OK, so quit. Quit what you're doing. Close it all down. Throw the book in the trash. Burn the cards. Delete the files. Dream up another dream. Go get a job."
"I don't want to. That's not why I'm here. I'd rather die."
"Now we're getting somewhere. So you do want this."
"No. I don't want this. I'm tired of the struggle. I want something different. I want more and I want less. More ease and less stress."
"OK, so what does more ease and less stress look like to you?"
"I'm teaching, writing, ministering, healing. Brent and I are creating and sharing our music and working and serving together. "
"You're already doing all these things. Every day. For years. Together."
"I want to start a church, a center, a sanctuary for healing, and learning, and growing, and awakening, and community."
"You have one. It's called the Power of Our Way Community."
"Yeah, but. . ."
"Yeah, but what?"
"Well, I need-or at least I feel like I need-to be physically with people a lot more than I am right now. I am being asked to serve in a different way - a bigger way-again. I'm feeling frustrated because of what I've come to know and what I've seen as possible. I want so badly to share it with as many people as I can. I am actually in pain over this!"
"Pain over what? Your picture of how? Your picture of what would be enough and what isn't? Your time frame? The numbers of people who show up or don't show up? Money?"
"I know why I am here. I know why I create what I create and what I am to be and do!"
"Well, than that makes you one of the luckiest people on the planet. You found your soul calling and your soul mate! You have beautiful children, amazing pets, incredible friends, and many gifts and talents that most would only dream of. Plus, you have a bigger collection of miracles than anyone you know and a capacity to navigate challenges with a smile like no one I've ever met."
"We've been through some crap haven't we?" And some pretty amazing miracles!" I say, feeling the shift into gratitude.
"Yeah, you should write a book about it."
"I should, shouldn't I?"
We stand there in silence. Me and me. Human self, higher self. Little me and big me. My big girl, my little girl. Whatever. We just stand there, looking up at the ever-expanding sky. I take in a breath and a long and deep sigh seems to carry away all of the weight I was feeling.
It's beautiful. My favorite time of day. Purples, pinks, oranges, and blues swirling and dancing in complete joy. They don't need anyone watching them to be beautiful. They just are. The heavenly view changes a million times as the sun and moon blow kisses into the sky and wave hello and goodbye in their magical changing of the guard.
"It's been a hot one," says the sun. "I'll cool things down," smiles the moon. "I'll help!" the wind giggles as he blows a loving and cooling breeze across my face.
"Hey," I take in a deep breath and say to my Self, "thanks for being here. And thanks for being so honest and patient with me."
"Where else would I be? We're kind of stuck with each other."
"Thank God."
"Yeah, thank God."
As I shove the last of the boxes and close the rear door of my stuffed-to-the- hilt car, my eye catches my bumper sticker-the one bumper sticker I've ever been willing to adorn on any car I've ever owned.
Will Work For Peace
I smile as I climb into the passenger seat, making sure I've got my journal, pens, my little pillow, my book, and a bottle of water. I look over at Brent and we both shrug our shoulders and laugh. Everything I need is literally within inches of me. Most is inside of me. All is surrounding me.
"You've got it pretty good don't you?" my wise Self says with her eyebrows slightly raised, as if she is peeking over a pair of invisible spectacles.
"Yeah," I smile to my Self, nodding with agreement. "I'm the luckiest woman on the planet."
"Let's go get something to eat. You've got a big week ahead of you; a lot of places to be, and a lot of people to see! It's kind of nice to have the night off isn't it?" my Self winks back at me, glancing at my handsome hunk of a husband with a sly grin. "Go have some fun tonight girlfriend!"
"Indian?" I ask my increasingly sexy looking husband. "Indian sounds good!" Brent says, "Then, let's go ahead and make the rest of the drive to Jacksonville," he winks back.
"All is in Divine Order, everything happens for a reason, all is moving towards the highest good of all," I whisper over and over again to my Self.
"Did you ever doubt it?" she giggles.
Rev. Anita Pathik Law is known as a midwife to the soul. She is the author of The Power of Our Way; A Path to a Collective Consciousness, and a powerful voice in the consciousness movement. Anita is preparing for the next phase of her service and is feeling wide open to all that is emerging. To get to know Anita on a soul level, please enjoy the following "movies" by Anita and her husband, Brent Law. Her most recent co-creations can be previewed and enjoyed at www.hypnoticmanifestation.com and www.powerofmyway.com/havingitall.html |
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Wow, have it been in similar shoes...I love your positive talk to your inner self, I am doing this now and it sure helps, but sometime the Self doesn't even want to listen and that is when it is difficult to see thru the trees, huge trees at times.
When I can get to that place that I know is always there, know that my God is always right beside, behind and in front of me, then the Light starts to flicker and then burn brightly again.
I love it when people share their honest feeling and happenings to us.
Posted by: irene | June 27, 2008 at 11:54 AM