Every now and then I download a bucket of instructions from the Big Source. This one came in response to a friend who has so much, but was in a moment of disappointment. He asked me: what do I even want?
My spiritual mentor has advised me for sometime to want what I have. It didn’t make sense. And then it did. You can think of it as a cheat sheet. Or a lifehack.
These are the instructions I have been given on wanting.
Want what you have.
Want what you have because what you have now is the now. Want the now. Want the now even when it is filled with things you appear to not want.
If under no circumstances can you want the now, want the not wanting now.
Want what you have. Wanting what you have is another way of saying be grateful.
Want what you have. And have a dream. Know that when that dream comes true it will include all sorts of things you might appear to not want. Want this dream to come true anyway. And want to have new dreams. And know the things you appear not to want are part of the golden crack.
Nothing is perfect. Or everything is. Want to understand this in your heart. And be grateful for it. Not resentful of it. Want to be able to say in moments of distress and frustration, in moments of loneliness, maybe this is perfect.
Want time. You have time. It mat feel like not enough. Or the wrong time. Want what time you have. Want the kind of time you have. Want to be at one with this time. Want to make this a better time. Patience is another way of saying want what you have.
Want to help. Wanting to help is a want that can always be satiated. You have the ability to help. Want that.
Want your past not to be different. Except as it changes naturally in relation to your ability to want what you have.
Want your future to unfold gracefully, miraculously, delightfully. You have a future. Want it. Want what you have.
If you still wonder how can I want what I have? Love that question. If you do not, begin by wanting to love the question.
Want what you have. And bit by bit you will find you have what you want.
Link to this blog on HuffPo where you can read my other blogs as well. I want you to!Learn More
I don’t know why. Maybe it’s my friend Taylor Negron leaving this dimension, maybe not having had a drink in almost 5 years, maybe the drought/Isis/Indiana layer of things. Probably all the above. But as we round the corner to this Passover/Easter weekend I am steeped in the Mystery layer. Even as I buy groceries and write the script and promote UnCab, the big part is almost always there, asking to be considered. And in that light, sometimes it feels almost impossible that all ‘this’ exists. And I try to hold on to the feeling of cement or that note in Landslide. Sometimes I feel this world is a river of sadness and we are all building boats of comedy or numbness. Sometimes it feels like a river of joy. With rocks and crocodiles to avoid. Right after he died I had a dream that Taylor came to play a card game with me. I don’t play cards and we never played cards together. In this game both sides of the cards were backs. And only once you had the card in your hand was it revealed what the card was. And then as you played the cards morphed into other cards. So that the hand you were dealt actually changed as you were playing. There was no fated hand. Fate evolved as you played. New life grew from life as it was, changing what was. This is my hope for us this spring. That we can rebirth ourselves from here. And find the magic, be the magi, and breathe life into this place, this earth where we have come, ever so briefly, to play our part in the cosmic dance. Much love to you and yours as you part the seas, finding footing were it is almost impossible. As you walk from the cave, seemingly dead, yet back again for more. For we are sensitive and prone to despair those of us in this art tribe, but we are also resilient and surprisingly strong. xox bLearn More
I wrote a bog for HuffPo – Instruction on Grace – please do go read it, I think you’ll like it!
They like you to add a picture to your blogs – and sure, who doesn’t like a picture!
But when I went to grab a picture for grace, well, really all that made sensewas one of those girls-with-open-arms-in-silhouette-against- blue-sun-filled-sky shots. Some included maybe the ocean. Maybe some birds. Maybe some wheat blowing in the wind. But I swear that same girl with her breezy dress is in every shot. And – I mean nothing against her, it’s correct, if you were in that moment you might feel grace, but there comes a point when images loose all their power and instead of saying grace they say hacky. Which spell check really wants to change to tacky. Not tacky. Hacky!
Anyway I made the above image in a crude attempt to picturify my blog creatively. Don’t hold that against the writing which I think you will enjoy. And if you do, please share.
It’s featured on the Life Lessons section. I’m so close to being the next Deepak.
Here’s an excerpt…
This is the instruction I have been given on grace.
Grace cannot be taken. Grace can be received.
Grace is knowing: Don’t make it worse. When things are difficult, no action is required. Waiting is the beginning of grace. Restraint is the beginning of grace.
Grace has the word race in it. And sometimes you can move very quickly when you are filled with grace. The way a car seems to drive better if it has more fuel. You know you have reserves. You can go without thinking about it. Grace. Go with grace.
When you say grace before a meal you say you understand that you and the food are one. There is no separation between you and the food. Or you and anything else. There is no separateness. Separation is illusion. Moving with that knowledge is moving with grace.