Deception

“Nature never deceives us; it is always we who deceive ourselves.”

Jean Jacques Rousseau

Ahhh….deception. After the weekend in Toronto at Demartini’s Breakthrough Experience, there is the realization that there are all kinds of deceptions or illusions in my life….i have created.

I have been deceiving myself to think that you can live with the Law of Attraction and not take action….it takes more than inspired action to manifest.

The deception that my husband-to-be will basically ‘fall on my lap” without me loving and being the person I want to marry.

The deception that I have to do all of this before he shows up.

The deception that everyone likes me if not loves me…..I dislike greatly if someone doesn’t like me.

The deception that my negative core beliefs are all gone and not effecting me still.

I have written a love letter to myself some time ago and posted it here and yet after self reflection and just breathing the self love and acceptance is still something that I struggle with. I give, lift and encourage others everywhere in my life….at my design side job, my friends, my coaching clients and yet we all have something in common. We are bound together in the similar struggle of self love.

Love is never something to keep hidden nor is it something that you should feel unworthy of receiving. Stop deceiving yourself…. we are all worthy of great passionate, ‘out-loud’ love. This comes from loving you first…. so being your own worst enemy is not helping…

Taking my own advice,

Ty

A little Miracle

Yes, we I believe that miracles happen all around us everyday. Life in its self is a miracle. We just have to hear of Jill Bolte Taylor’s story to be swept up into the wonder and miracle of life.

Love is powerful. It flows and beats through us every moment. Unfortunately not everyone grows up in a home where love was shared with hugs, kisses or ‘I love yous’. We can feel less than the wonder and power that we truly are.

I had a safe home to live in, clean water to drink, food on the table, both parents at home, extended family close by and involved, structure, rules, and freedom. A wonderful loving home by what was provided. Reflecting on my childhood my sister and I had I pretty good. But the element missing included the verbal reinforcement of this external physical /material love. Our family wasn’t huggy, kissy or lovy-dovy. All the love and affection, hugs so tight that it could induce a skip in the heart beat and lovin’ in the deliverance of freshly baked jimmy jam cookies, came from Grammie, my dad’s mom. Grammie lived down the road from us and she died in 2000.

This day was the last time:

A) I saw my dad cry, and

B) I hugged my dad.

My dad grew up much the way he raised my sister and I, without the hugs, kisses and I love yous. Funny considering how Grammie showered the grandkids with love. So on Father’s day this year my dad reached in my car window and put his hand on my shoulder to tell me how much he believed in me and my entrepreneurial venture it was great to hear. Once I got the car parked and out ready to join the rest of the family at the BBQ, Dad asked if I knew that he loved me. We had a big hug and shared I love yous. A moment I never knew would happen but one that meant a tremendous amount to me. We talked and cried and as my sister would call it ‘bonded’. There are so many things we just know but don’t share. I know my parents love me, I know they are thrilled with me and the work I am doing. But a tiny part of you never really knows for sure until you hear it. Both Dad and I came together and became closer that day.

So my advice or recommendation for today is to go out drop your guard and love someone and tell them. Tell them you are proud of them, it will change them and it will change you. I love my dad even deeper because he had the courage to share how he felt and if you really knew my dad you would know how hard that can be.

Today’s Task: Hug and least 3 people and tell them you love them.

Happy Hugging,

Ty

All about Perspective…

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.
His bed was next to the room’s only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.

She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.’

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can’t buy.

Origin unknown.