Honey, Help YourSelf!

PS . . . Soul Secrets a Week Later

2008-05-28T06:28:00.000-07:00

After a week of finishing Denise's book, I wanted to check in to let you know how I'm doing. Not surprisingly, lots of the hard work has paid off and, dare I say I developed some good habits by the end of it all.

For starters, I'm still sweeping and cleaning regularly. My windows glisten and the sunlight pours through like laser beams. Naturally, my plants are thriving and the overall clean of less clutter—not that I had much to begin with—continues to fill my living space with an incredibly peaceful feeling. I'm still walking and running and taking more time to relax without needing to 'do' something at every given moment.

Though I continue to explore job opportunities with other companies, I'm discovering new ways to work for myself. And there are many. The other day I was on Amazon perusing someone's self -published book and discovered a slew of others in the same genre. Why not write my own, I thought. Well, maybe I will, I said. Later in the week I signed myself up for a summer arts fair where I'll be selling my rugs and other handmade goodies. Now it's a matter of getting down to the mass production of it all. Which thrills and unnerves me.

Musically speaking, I'm putting out more feelers for gigs around town, and I'm proud to say my efforts are being noticed. I walked into a club where a singer and pianist jazzed up the cocktail hour. Turned out I had read about the singer in a local paper and intended to check out her show at another popular venue where she works. What luck to see her also working in the other club I attended. Bitch. Well, I don't have to tell you I sat in my own jealousy for a minute, judging the woman and comparing my style to hers. But, but, but. Instead of bemoaning the fact that she was working all over town and not me (bitch!), I silently celebrated her success and took her presence as a reminder that I can do the same thing. She stood as an example of the benefits of hard work and perseverance. I even congratulated her on her way out and meant it.

It wasn't long before two people came to sit at the bar next to me—one of those two people was the club owner. While sitting there I reminded myself that, short of her coming over to me and ripping the cd out of my hands, I wouldn't have a better opportunity to speak one-on-one with her. See how the fates aligned in so many ways to help me get a gig there? No? Let me elucidate:

Before leaving home I made a conscious decision to put a cd in my purse 'just in case.'
When I arrived at the club, I had no idea the singer I had just been reading about would be performing. And she was good.
I was faced with my own jealousy and insecurity at seeing someone doing something I had wanted to do so badly. Thankfully, I seized the moment as a perfect opportunity to identify and embrace my jealousy since it was part of me. Then I moved through it to sincerely enjoy what she was doing.
I decided to view the woman's popularity as direct results of her hard work and perseverance, which—up to that point—I had not exhibited. My own dose of self-appraisal wasn't so easy to digest, but a glass of Shiraz helped soften the sting.
Having the owner walk right in and sit next to me was a great sign, and you know how fond Denise and I are of signs.
Walking up to her and putting my music in her hands while complimenting her on the talented duo she booked for cocktail hour made me feel good and let her associate my name and good nature with a face.*
Because I was proactive and optimistic, I went away from the experience feeling good, prepared and focused. Hot damn, do I rock or what?

All in all, the revelation that I don't have to sit around being a victim waiting for other people to rush in and save me or help me makes a big difference. Denise's work continues to help me see past my own whining and energizes my confident creative Self. Of course, I was already doing alright before the book, but the added push I got by doing the work has helped me identify and open lots of other doors.

On the romatical front, just two days ago, the man with whom I have occasional sex and meals referred to himself as my husband. Yesterday, I asked him about his comment and he repeated himself, which, of course is no ring on my finger, but he's at least talking in the right direction.

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*An even more attractive face, I might add, since I had just gotten my eyebrows 'fixed' earlier that day.

Day 28: The End of Days

2008-05-20T20:34:00.000-07:00

When it comes to books I love, I'm the kind of reader who slows down toward the final pages in an attempt to extend the pleasure of my experience. In a couple of cases, I have yet to read the last ten or so pages years after rushing through all but the final chapters. I tell myself I'm still enjoying the book. No matter how ridiculous my strategy might sound, it prevents me from 'closing the book' on the book. So to speak. But Soul Coaching is a different story.

Denise's guide to finding my Authentic Self has kept me in a state of upheaval, frustration, excitement and anticipation for the past month, and even though I've arrived at the last exercise of many, today by no means marks the end of my Work.

As other exercises asked us to either go in or outside ourselves, today's task finds us doing both. In fact, she asks us to revisit images of ourselves becoming one with all the elements and going into prayer and thanksgiving. She asks us to dance with abandon and to listen to the voice of our individual soul and to keep an ear out for the Universal Soul, too. She wants us to perceive every experience as bearing a a lesson for our spirits. Today, we are to be all things, merging with the Air, Water, Fire and Earth, got it?

Good.

Throughout my day, I had no trouble identifying most of my encounters as positive ones placed here to help me on my way. When my girlfriend called to share a natural secret* recipe for hair conditioner, of course that was good news. She presented me with a lesson of how to mix up the ingredients and I learned it. Pretty straightforward. Even Denise would agree, I'm sure. Another great lesson for today—though not nearly so obvious as my secret hair conditioner recipe*—was revealed in a run by the lake. To be sure, I didn't want to go. I actually began to offer myself reasons not to go, and, believe me, they were convincing. But I pulled on my gear and took to the streets where I still told myself I could walk if I wanted. No such luck.

As I crossed the street, I picked up my pace and began a slow jog that ended nearly an hour later at my front door. The soul lesson? Many:

I'm allowed to gripe while I'm doing things that are good for me. I don't have to be giddy with enlightenment and perfection while I Improve myself. Usually, upon completion of the exercise—be it physical, mental or otherwise—I feel lots better for sticking it out.
Sticking it out looks impossible from the start if you don't start.
Putting one foot in front of the other can really take you places.
Moving is moving. Thinking about moving isn't. Neither is talking about it.
Moving burns calories. Thinking about moving doesn't. Neither does talking about it.

Now that I've come to the end of this book I can say lots of Changes are occurring, and, as Denise suggested, changes may still be happening in the months and years to come. I've really done it now, huh?

For starters, I have lots more clarity about who I am, what I'm capable of and where my unique voice fits in the larger scheme. As I write that, I'm thinking, WTF, that sounds trite and bullshitty. Maybe the more genuine sounding way to phrase this sentiment is that this program has reminded me that accepting myself totally—all my hissy fits as well as the more socially accepted trait of humility—rocks. When I do that, I own myself and nobody else's judgment or opinions matter.

Having lots of good laughs at the expense of old Fears was cathartic in ways I couldn't have imagined before. Being an occasional asshole toward the wealthy set was pretty enriching as well because it showed me a whole lot about my own surprising biases.**

And, aside from my $100 rebate check(!) and old friends resurfacing, I can't say I struck material pay dirt. Still, I'm happy with myriad discoveries in the end. No big bangs, keys to the city, rings on fingers or a shopping spree. No fancy cars, high speed chases or free lunches, either. Actually, I did get a free meal or two while I was doing this thing. Even so, you get my point. Ultimately I learned something. And the work's not over.

Day 28 and for all the mental, physical and spiritual Cleansing I've endured, something tells me I better invest in rubber gloves.

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*Since she swore me to secrecy, I'm not at liberty to divulge her special ingredients. Let's just say if you see me running my fingers through my bodaliciously supple, shiny hair, or if I'm distracted by my glistening visage in the nearest mirror, you'll know why.

**Please, Hawaii Self Helpers, do not let my insolence to deter you from granting me a reduced-rate entry into your Improvement programs by the sea. I've come a long way on my own, it's true, but I still have a few areas that need tweaking.

Day 27: Earthquakes

2008-05-19T09:14:00.000-07:00

With one day to go, I'm a lot less wiggy than I thought I'd be. When I initially set out to do this thing, I never thought far enough ahead to see what the completion of this project would look like. To tell you the truth, I'm surprised at myself at having made it through so many exercises back to back with my wits in tact. More or less.

I think I was secretly hoping for an earth-shattering breakthrough when I started this book, a parting of the clouds of my ambivalence or clap of thunderous insights at the end of it all. You know, at least a mini-miracle for my troubles would have been nice, right? Well, I'd be remiss in saying nothing of the sort happened. Because it has, and if you've been reading along at all in the past few weeks, you know as well as I that the experience has been well worth it.

Interestingly enough, today's work focuses on looking ahead to the kind of future we desire. Denise asks us to create it through visualization and intention. Even though I'm still a little bit on the fence here, I'm way more inclined to embrace the validity of creating with my own thoughts if for no other reason than it's always through my creative . She says thoughts from the past are what create our present and that we are currently living the future we once thought about in the past. Which makes perfect sense to me now.*

'Believing is seeing' seems an appropriate turn of phrase here because it wraps up Denise's sentiments and shows just how contradictory this concept is to the conventional 'seeing is believing' strategy. Of course fancy Self-Helpers have been saying much the same thing since well before I came along—I'm talking Bible days here—but today's the day I happened to arrive at a new understanding of it. And if we reference the Good Book for a minute, turn to any passage about faith, and you'll likely arrive at this idea, too.**

Given that I happen to be an expert on the subject of ME, I know what past thoughts*** have led me to this point. Lots of good ones involving creative vision, fun and happiness, which I'm quite proud of. Lots of not-so-good ones, too, that played to fears of 'making it' and being 'enough' in a world of freakishly productive overachievers. Not so proud of there. But! Now that I'm embarking on a self-propelled journey into the future—on my terms—I'm going to create a scene replete with everything I've already got lots of (love, happiness, joy, radiant health and strength, dreams, creativity, friendship, talent, spunk, companionship and fun) and I'll add to that those qualities I feel I'm lacking in the present.**** I won't bother mentioning what it is I think I'm lacking because—if you didn't already get the message—being negative now may very well impact my future, and we don't want that.

And, just like our body language exercise a few days ago, I'm supposed to embody the positive effects of my futurific dreaming by experiencing the associated emotions as I imagine them. So when you see an animated lady singing out loud, twirling uncontrollably and kicking up her heels in the grocery store, you'll know I've just imagined myself winning Mega Millions. So don't worry, I'm not ill, just ecstatic.

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*Considering how clueless and fearful I have been in the past when it came to thinking about my future in terms of overall satisfaction and financial solvency, is it any wonder I'm clueless—and broke—now? Maybe I'd better seee myself with more certainty, conviction of purpose and loot in the future.

**I personally can't tell you exactly where to look for faith passages because I don't know the text like that. However, I can tell you visualizations and all this other talk about positive thinking has shown up as a brand new thing, but it smacks of Sunday schoo

***The waking thoughts, at least. Who knows what else lurks beneath the surface of my conscious self talk?

****Whatever I'm lacking in the present is due to my thoughts of lack in the past, which, if entertained and encouraged, will persist down the line and thereby create a less-than-desired reality if I don't do something proactive and positive right this minute. And I mean now.

Day 26: The Earthly Home

2008-05-18T19:51:00.000-07:00

Way back when we started this work, Denise asked us to build an altar and to construct it with love and mindful attention for what matters most to our Selves and our Spirits. Today she's asked us to revisit that original request and to include—if we haven't already done so—images of loved ones, elements from nature and articles that represent the natural elements of Water, Air, Fire and Earth. She also wants us to include a feather as a reminder to take life lightly. All I've got on that score is a feather duster, and I suppose that could also serve as a reminder to keep my place clean and not to let the dust settle on my dreams.

In walking through my apartment, hand-in-hand with my Soul, as Denise also requested, I imagine us engaged in a conversation about what's working to raise and nurture my energy as well as what isn't. I see my spirit self is surprised and emboldened at my cleaner, fresher surroundings. 'Didn't know you had it in you,' I hear her say. My living room could be more lived in, we agree. And as far as bedrooms go, its spare quality of bed, mirror, table, dresser and chair are joined by soft accents of two plants on the window sill* and a home made rug on the floor. I've always kept this space relatively clutter free, so I'm pretty good on that score.

Moving toward the kitchen, I prefer not to stop at the bathroom because it's in dire need of sweeping, mopping and a major scrubbing of all ceramic surfaces. And I think we can spare my soul this discovery. I'd hate to scare her off on our first official tour.

As I envision us oohing and aahing around the kitchen, we both** sense a distinct change in the vibe where my soul-sucking trinkets used to be. 'Good job, sister' she exclaims as she claps me on the back with her downy spirit hand.

With that, we bid adieu and promise to reconvene at the close of this book. 'Hang in there, keep going and celebrate your small victories,' she urges as she fades back into the ether. I realize as she disappears how much she sounds like Denise. Hmm.

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*My soul delights in the presence of sparkly clean windows!

**In case you've just joined us, I am giving you the blow-by-blow of my imagined hand-in-hand tour with my Spirit as we discuss areas that are lifting my (our?) energy throughout my living space.

Day 25: Earth Angel

2008-05-17T18:37:00.000-07:00

Can you believe I've made it this far through Denise's book? I'm positively thrilled. And before I get to today's work, I must share that my spanking clean windows are awesome. My plants seem to love them as well. They have perked up like mad. I'm also thrilled to be the recipient of a $100 rebate check, which arrived today from the computer company.* I have Denise to thank for giving me the framework to create so much change. So many feelings—even old friends—has been re/surfacing, I can't call it all coincidence. What a spine-tingling clusterfuck!

Anywho, today's work takes us to deeper into our bodies and into the body of the earth itself. Through a series of visualizations, we're asked to connect to the vibrations of the natural world around us and to feel ourselves at one with Nature. Yesterday's workout ran right along those lines. As I looked out the window of the gym and considered the beauty of the sunset, I reflected on it again this morning, thinking again about how we all benefit from the sun simply being itself. Accordingly, I owe it to the world, the Universe, MANKIND to be my true self, too. Don't worry, I'm only using the caps for dramatic effect. I'm no megalomaniac.

Remember that bullshit job fair I went to a couple of weeks ago? I totally had no business being there, and I knew it. Had I been paying attention to my natural vibration like Denise is talking about, I would have stayed at home, rather than going down there to feel like a complete nincompoop because I didn't 'fit in' to their scene. What I should have been doing was finding ways to do things I'm good at to make money, and—here comes another aha moment—the money would follow. Of course there's no guarantee that money would come from doing things I love—singing for peanuts and writing this free blog illustrate my point perfectly—but I know how great I feel when I do what I love. It sure beats the hell out of toiling away at things I suck at.

Anyway, Denise asks us to close our eyes and imagine ourselves in nature for about fifteen minutes. I attempted to do so today on the train, but got interrupted as the lady sitting next to me began to inch across the line on her side of the seat. She was antsy, way too boundary-free and extremely eager to get up in my space. I wasn't having it.

I see I'll have to revisit that visualization here at home. Alone.

But before I step away to mentally merge with Mother Earth, I'm digging the sound of the rain right now outside my windows.

PS Did I mention my windows now sparkle with clarity by day and by night?

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*Two years ago, I bought a computer that came with a 'free' printer, providing I turned in the rebate in time. I sent it in as per their rules. I then received a letter saying I missed the cutoff date and was therefore ineligible for the hundred bucks. Shit, I thought. Well, more than two full years later, they send me an email asking for my current address because they want to cut me a new check. And sure enough I'm on my way to the ban with it as we speak, er, type.

Day 24: Body Language

2008-05-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

Beyond my discomfort at having to address more guilt and myriad shortcomings of character and good taste, part of the reason I've been waiting until the evening to post my entries is because I'm increasingly ambivalent about nearing the close of this book, the exercises and the blog itself.

After all of my kicking and screaming, I can't imagine that everything's going to tie up nicely in some kind of spiritual bow and ribbons. How can it when I've just begun to address my struggle with portion control and lingering inclination toward sweets?

My own reservations aside, I continue with Denise's daily work. And, today, I'm looking more closely at my body, what I put in it and particularly how I carry it. If a stranger were to watch the way I use my body, she asks, what kind of judgments would that person make about me? Before I began throwing hissy fits and displaying inappropriate behavior all over the place, I would have said people would think I was down to earth, creative, high-spirited and confident. For the most part, I believe that to be true. Unless you see me on my way to the gym or midway through a jog down a neighborhood street. You'd think I was walking the last mile of my life—a kind of Dead Woman Walking—such is my resistance at getting/taking physical exercise lately.

But Denise makes a good point by saying our physical carriage can change the way we see ourselves. Try slouching your shoulders and hanging your head while holding an optimistic attitude. Near impossible, right? She suggested modeling a positive quality throughout the day, and I chose efficiency and initiative. And it worked, right up til the gym.

I dragged myself, sluggish and dense as a bag of wet sand. I waited in the car until I could summon the energy to open the door and get to my business. Once inside, I took my place on the elliptical machine and looked out over the parking lot, wishing I was back in my car. But as the evening sun began to break through the clouds on its way down, it hit me: I'm not doing too bad at all, people. Not bad at all.

Seeing signs in everything as I do these days, I noticed the sun on its slow descent as I powered away on my running machine and thought about how steady and consistent it was at simply being itself. Unlike me, the sun wasn't worried about its progress or its age and status.* It couldn't care less about who was around it, getting in its way (in this case, clouds and the occasional plane) or obscuring its view. Because it was on a mission. It was complete in and of itself. And, as I sweated profusely, I came to yet another revelation** about my body and my Self in general: I'm doing pretty damn good. I've got the wherewithal in body and mind to take my health and wellbeing seriously enough to stay in good shape, and, although I love ice cream, I recognize my limits.***

In the end, I finished my workout with a renewed sense of Self and managed to reclaim the positive attitude I wielded for the greater part of the day. The sun's brilliant lesson showed me I don't have to place judgments on what I do, have or don't have, and the mere act of going about my business is all that's necessary. Doing so allows me to shine, Shine, SHINE! Wait, I feel a song coming on.**** It's a good thing for you I don't know how to work the audio features on this thing.

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*The sun also has no concern for sweets nor money—or getting rings on fingers!—but those are still biggies in my world.

**Gee, how many revelations have I come to in the past week alone? I'll have to go back through my notes.

***Weeeeeellllll, I did have two scoops of the Oreo-stuffed ice cream early in the afternoon. That was the only sweet treat of my day. Besides, two scoops in a cup, to my thinking, is far better than three in a chocolate dipped waffle cone with a mixed nut rim. I'm just saying.

****Think "Here Comes The Sun" by the Beatles.

Day 23: Full of Crap

2008-05-15T19:40:00.001-07:00

I waited so long to get to this entry. Wanna know why? Surprise—Denise is making me uncomfortable again. No wonder why I've been eating like a junk food junkie lately—I must have subconsciously known she was going to ask me to detox and cleanse my body. It's not enough that I've spent the last three weeks going through my apartment evicting dust bunnies, corralling stray papers and PostIts, tossing unused clothes, shoes, books, knicknacks, sweeping, mopping and washing windows. Now she wants me to clean my physical body from the inside out. Grrr.

I know, I know, yesterday looked like I was coming down somewhat from my Anger and settling into what threatened to be a calming, grounding week. Well. You don't know how many fast food joints and point-of-purchase candy displays I had to ignore today. I take that back. If you've gone out of your house or past your pantry at all today, you've likely encountered just as many food-related temptations as I did.

Here's the thing that got me. And before I go any further, I have to admit I know I'm whining. Again. But she's on my case in a whole new way now. She's asking me to cleanse and purify, drink more water, eat greener food, savor fresh produce and then some. Her suggestions may sound healthy on the surface—and generally speaking, I already eat along those lines anyway*—but there's still more to it.

Today's work challenges me to come off of autopilot and take control of what I'm putting in my mouth, and that just leaves a bad taste. Oh, Denise! Here's the deal. Comfort food has the word "comfort" in it because it brings the eater—on the count of three, everybody—Comfort! Who ever gained solace from a stick of celery or coarse rye crisps? WTF? Tell me this instant what real-life woman or man you personally know reached for Brussel sprouts when their significant others walked out the door never to return again or worse. What peace of mind did nuts and twigs ever bring to the gal who gave her heart and never got a ring on her finger? How's she supposed to vent over a plate of tofu?** Where's the comfort in that?

Nowhere, that's where. Frankly put, Denise is refusing to let me sulk and play the victim when I might feel the need. More to the point, if I can't soothe my bruised emotions in empty calories and buttery fat ice cream when they arise, where the hell can I let loose in vice and victimization?

Five days away, and I'm running out of places to hide.*** Fine.

Despite my own Resistance, I went forward with the day's exercise just as I always have and constantly thought of ways to get around doing the work, which is why I'm posting so late. I pass Denise's challenge on to you just as she put it to me. Consider for a moment that your body is your very own temple. Completely yours and no one else's—which in and of itself is kind of radical when you think about it. How many of us can say that we really own OurSelves? Every time you feed the temple, ask yourself if what you're slipping in through its/your front door serves to "cleanse or clog" you. I guarantee after your first few feedings, you won't be feeling too much love either.

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*It's true; my diet is extremely healthy if you don't count when I go away on vacation, when I'm treated to a meal I don't have to pay for, when I'm feeling hemmed in and need an emotional snack to fill an unfillable void and so on. Yeah, for all intents and purposes, my diet's already exemplary. More or less.

**Not to offend tofu eaters because I've got a potentially delicious bland block of the stuff in my fridge as we speak, but I'm edgy because I feel my option to jump for junk food is being compromised, tampered with for these next few days. And, frankly, that troubles me.

***How ironic that I'm looking out through my super-clear windows to the front yard of my neighbors' townhouse as I type this entry. I'm watching in disbelief as a highly motivated skunk digs up their front yard, dragging dirt and grass all the way from the sidewalk into a nook beneath their house. This crafty animal is working under the cover of night, ripping the lawn to bits and setting up house as everyone sleeps, the sneaky bastard.

If I hadn't been a witness to the skunk's destructive orchestration, I wouldn't have believed it by the light of day, suspecting instead neighborhood toughs, hooligans, gangbangers looking to settle a score. (Run for the hills, everybody!) And, thanks to Denise and her directive to see signs in everything, I get the connection between that stinker across the street and my own stinking habit in my own backyard, which, if left unchecked, could undermine all my hard work of Cleaning, Clearing, Makeovering and and Owning Up. Emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, I can see significant changes; I'm totally rocking. Where my salty-'n-sweet tooth's concerned, I'm not so happy right now.

Day 22: Down to Earth

2008-05-14T09:58:00.001-07:00

After a rousing few weeks of upheaval, we enter the final week that—heaven help me—brings it all together. According to Denise, Earth week is all about connecting with the physical environment, which includes our physical bodies as well as our living space. I instinctively reached for my Häagen Dazs knowing she'd ask me to do some kind of cleanse or Atkins-related nonsense before reading any further. After polishing off the pint, I resumed reading with a clear conscious.

Today Denise reminds us about our bodies being temples and offers a checklist to address points we might not so readily look at if left to our own devices. And, if I'm to be honest here, I'll tell you my decision to down the remaining ice cream this morning didn't bode well for my response to her bothersome checklist. C'mon, items like 'I love and cherish my body,' 'I do great things to honor and cherish my body' and my digestive system is excellent' are impossible to address in the affirmative when you're holding a pen that's lightly coated and sticky with black walnut ice cream. Just the same, however, I had no problems positively ticking off items like 'I am satisfied with the muscle tone of my body,' 'I have had a complete physical in the past couple of years' and 'I do not take habit-forming drugs.' Not too bad for a woman on the road to Improvement.

Today's exercise asks me to focus on each of my body parts and ask how it's doing. I'm to imagine what it would tell me. Naturally, I dived right in. I imagined my hands and what their message to me might be. I saw my hands as greenish branches sprouting new buds right before my eyes. I took this to mean that I'm putting my hands to new creative endeavors. It's a good sign. Maybe it also means I'll have to nurture that growth in different ways as well. Moving to my mouth, I saw my teeth as piano keys in motion. Unless this means I'm sorely in need of dental work, I'm choosing to see this in positive relation to my burgeoning singing career.

Righty-O, then. I'm off to rinse the goo from my pen and meditate on my other parts to see what they have to say.

Day 21: Slow Burn

2008-05-13T21:51:00.001-07:00

I took a long time working up this entry because there was a lot I wanted to say that had nothing to do with the day's exercise. Which is what I generally do anyway, but today's different. Different because we're coming to the end of the Anger Week. Denise calls it Fire Week, but I know better. Admittedly, I started this project not knowing what to expect beyond my own discipline at sitting down to write each day, but to see myself now situated in the middle of a near-sparkling and far less cluttered apartment was by no means on the list. I also had no idea I'd be talking about porn, discount spirituality, being broke and bullshit job fairs, either. And yet, I see how these seeming loose ends tie in to my overall process.

So. Now that we've come to the end of the third week in the hunt for my Authentic Self, I've arrived at even more realizations, which I am all to happy to share with you here:

I am growing fond of the recently-discovered indenting feature on this software. At the click of a button I can indent in the same way I can instantly italicize, embolden and color text for added emphasis.
I have made good friends with my anger, disillusionment and fiscal inertia. These elements are not pretty or noble by any stretch, but they are surprisingly inspiring and wholly mine. I have also experienced the benefits of throwing hissy fits and being altogether ridiculous whenever necessary. Even better when it's unnecessary.
I now appreciate the uselessness of holding on to old Fear and pent-up feelings about what my folks did or didn't do. So what I never had a pony. I lived. And now that I have a cat, I see that pony cleanup would have presented major problems for everyone involved. See? Sometimes parents really do know what they're doing.
I don't need as much as I think I do. Denise's annoying cleanup and clearing exercises really got on my nerves at first, but I get it now. Moving old Stuff gives me breathing room and changes the way I see my living space. Since I tossed those energy-draining totems in my apartment, I got that rebate check notice and a surprise job interview.
Seems my clearing has blown the dust off of my relationships. In the past couple of weeks I've heard from more old friends than I have in a long time. Cards in the mail, unexpected phone calls and emails have turned up from people I hadn't spoken to in years. Coincidence? Maybe. Gee, it just occurred to me they are checking in on my state of mind after witnessing my semi-collapse online.
Probably the biggest aspect of this work is my newfound appreciation for Change. Based on my frequent mention of having to burn Self-Help chapters in a back alley fire for warmth, you can imagine how many books I have on the subject (of Self-Help, not back alley fire maintenance). However, this time around is different because I'm actually doing the exercises.* Hell or high water I have committed to them. And as you can see, it's pretty difficult most days. Imagine doing your own home renovation because that's the closest point I can put on what I'm experiencing—a renovation. Digging up my Stuff and handling all the unpretty bits (which gets better over time, I'm learning) and trusting something better will be waiting on the other side. Or else.
Going it alone is the only way to go, really. When I started this thing, I imagined we'd all join cyber hands and jump right in with Denise and find our Authentic Selves together. I thought, 'Who wouldn't want to Improve?' Once the business started getting challenging which happened almost right away, I got my answer. This kind of thing isn't for everyone. And if I hadn't made a public commitment to this thing, I would have dropped it long before I began bagging my debris. But sticking with it has emphasized what I already knew: You've/I've/We've got to be willing to do things that matter to us independent of what anyone else may think. I love that this statement is a cliché, but when it really clicks for your/me/us, that's all she wrote, and nothing else matters.

Moving on. Today marks the end of Fire week, and Denise has switched gears on us yet again. Today she wants us to draw up our own success in the form of "Vision Seed Maps," which are feel-good collages made up of cut-outs from magazines and colored paper. You may have seen these referred to by any number of award-winning Self-Helper authors, and I'm sure all the Maui gurus have specially-priced kits for this purpose.**

Where I might thumb my nose at the value of sticking up pictures to generate actual experiences, I am an unwitting witness to the effect of them, based on my recent removal of energy-zapping images. On top of that discovery, evidence in the "Times" article and Nova special about our amazing brains supports what Denise is saying, and I'm becoming more convinced of it each day: visualizing works. At worst it can't hurt.

With that, I'm off to dig into my teetering stack of magazines formerly marked for recycling.

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*I actually did another process book like this one, which helped shake up my relationship space and eventually led me to meeting a pretty great guy who has yet to enter into a shared-address status and put a ring on my finger, but we'll give him time.

**Hey, I got a right; I'm still in my Anger week. Didn't I mention having hissy fits is valuable? Surely, you don't want me to gag on suppressed bitterness?

Day 20: Hot Headed Angel

2008-05-12T06:10:00.000-07:00

Before I even look at what today's exercise requires, I must confess on top of my up-and-down anger, bewilderment and upheaved feelings at embarking on this arduous journey inward, I am wondering what the point is, now that I've returned from the dead.*

This morning I awoke to an epiphany: not only does my housecleaning require a consistent, applied effort—action!—on my part, my inner Clearing does, too. Dust bunnies are attempting another takeover and tiny piles of paper are hanging out near the water cooler quietly grumbling among themselves, planning my demise. The inward parallel is my previously buoyant attitude is taking on water; it's not looking great right now. Awhile back I called this process a Spiritual Atkins Plan—near impossible carry out without caving to the sweet refrain of pervasive carbs and bready goodness. And, you guessed it, I have become the human vacuum of delicious food.

It's a good thing I committed to walking each day.

I'm sure Denise is aware of this plan's inherent pitfalls because she opens the day's exercise urging me to hang in there, keep going and not to give up. I'm also reminded of that Times article about creating new habits and how every little step is crucial to lasting Change. So maybe what I'm needing here is a return to a gentler one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, steady-as-she-goes method versus my problematic I-want-it-all-now-dammit strategy.

Yeah, I'm going to try that angle.

Okay, so I've looked at the day's exercise and now she's asking me to commit random acts of kindness because that will brighten the light of my Spirit, which may have been dimmed due to Fear, Shame, Grief, Mistreatment—not to mention dying repeatedly—and so on. Won't you join me as I visualize opening my tattered angel wings to embrace everyone in love and light? Doing so will remind us we are spiritual beings put here to spread goodness through out the world. Me personally, I've decided to cast myself as Touched By an Angel's saucy ringleader, Della Reece—a messenger of peace and love . . . and attitude.

The trick behind today's work is to perform these random acts anonymously. That's right: no one must know. That's because this kind of act, which helps empower, support or contribute to the well-being of others, as Denise puts it, "will make your entire being radiate with incredible light." Do what you can.

I'll get started right after I clean my apartment. Again.

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*See yesterday's exercise on Death.

Day 19: Burn Baby Burn

2008-05-11T19:37:00.000-07:00

Today's a good day to die. So says Denise.

Day 19 gives us an opportunity to look at our views around death, because, she believes, once we can embrace the fact that we will die at some point, we are that much freer to live. Makes sense, but I still wasn't crazy about doing this work. At first.

One of the exercises today asks us to imagine sitting in a rocking chair, reviewing our lives at the end of our days. Denise offers a list of questions to help tease out our true feelings on the subject and whether we feel complete and content with what we've accomplished up to this point. Personally, a major facet of my personal philosophy is to 'leave it on the road' or to go 'balls out' in life. Put another way—no regrets. So while I can't tell Denise I'm actually ready to die,* if I kicked the bucket right now** I wouldn't balk.

I like that Denise really gets jiggy on this exercise by asking us to practice dying. She suggests we 'practice dying over and over again' until we no longer feel afraid.*** When I first read that, I thought, WTF. I wondered about her sanity. I felt for her family because surely they had been saddled with a nut job. I feared for her teenagers if she had any because a nutty mother who asks people to practice dying can't be good for adolescent instability and angst.

Nevertheless, I've committed to this thing, all twenty eight days of it—and because I've already shared more than a few of my most delicate bits with you—I got into this one with the same amount of zing and vigor as all the rest. And after having done so, I get it. I understand how the exercise loosens fear around Death. Doesn't lessen my concern for her kids' esteem though.

Here are some ways I have envisioned myself dying. And, no, no one was harmed or killed in this process.

Death by chocolate. Because I'm often motivated by food, and because I'm sure I have ordered an actual dessert with this very same name, it stands to reason that one day my delicious treat would hold true to its title and finish me off instead, and that scares me to death.
Death by happiness. Ever said, 'I'm so happy I could just die?' Me too.
Death by Columbo-inspired scene. I don't like those little metal guardrails along the side of high-up highways. They're always dented and far too low, which suggests they're weakened, and I'm sure when I come careening around the bend—gaining speed because a dastardly ex has cut my brake cables like they do on Columbo—I'll be done for.
Death by surprise. I'm the sensitive type, and whenever someone sneaks up on me or calls my name, I'm startled. So much so that I have on occasion felt like I'd have a (mild) heart attack because of it. And if that happens, there's a chance I could, in fact, bite the dust.
Death by boredom. What if I run out of splashy ideas and witty things to say? What if one day my brain decides it's tired of working for me and simply refuses to share its insights with anyone willing to listen? If it ever goes on strike and stops sending down its gems and clever obsessions for me to nurse and cuddle, I'm sunk.
Death by drama. What if I'm standing at the top of the stairs of a very glamorous house. I'm wearing stilettoe heels to elongate my athletically curvaceous frame (compliments of my Personal trainer). I am dripping in fancy gems and my acquired accent is rattling full throttle. I am having 'words' with someone who is pissing me off. I turn on my heel for dramatic effect and it gets caught in the high-pile carpet, which sends me hurtling headlong down the stairs where my necklace pops and sends my gems flying throughout the manor. The fall nearly does me in, but it's my dishevelment, the loss of face—and my precious jewels—that truly sends me over the edge.
Death by planes and porn. One day a friend and I met for cocktails after work where we bemoaned our lackluster love lives. I convinced her we were savvy enough to take matters into our own hands until such time as proper suitors arrived to do it for/to us. After downing the last of our drinks, we marched proudly across the street to the Pink Pussycat where she purchased a curvy fluorescent dildo and I took home a saucy video. Weeks later I'm on my way to visit a friend on the west coast when I remember that flick is still in my VCR. What if the plane goes down and my mother had to claim my effects? Knowing her then thirty year-old daughter (the baby of the family!) was having sex (the baby!)—let alone watching other people having it—would have killed her. My (posthumous?) knowledge that she knew would have killed me too. Consider this one a double death between the crash and the video.
Death by debt. What if I one day amass so much debt through a perfect-storm accumulation of principals, interest, inflation, wage stagnation, recession and chronic fiscal inertia so as to tremble, lose my footing, fall and crack my head against the cold floor of the local post office where I get my mail (bills and circulars, mostly) because I no longer have a consistent address, which in and of itself is enough to kill me in the first place.
Death by gas. I love beans. Beans occasionally give me gas. What if—after dining on a delicious Mexican meal of frijoles—I experience stabbing pains of trapped gas in my guts and die? Or worse. What if I inadvertently fart myself to death?
Death by fear of death. What if no amount of supplements, age-defiance, plumping, sculpting, rainy-day funds, nest eggs, holidays, Secrets, hydration, creativity, Actualization and Self-Help can stave off the inevitability of my having to die? That freaks me out most of all and means my hard work at Improving means nothing. That tragedy alone has 'lethal' written all over it, don't you think?

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*If I was ready, I wouldn't need to Self-Help myself because I'd figure, 'What's the point? I'm gonna die, right?'

**You should see what my meals have been looking like lately. Calorically speaking and fatty-wise, I'm definitely tempting fate.

***She reminds us here that she absolutely does not mean dying for real. Duh, Denise. Otherwise, how could we finish the remaining nine days of this book?

Day 18: Fire It Up

2008-05-10T15:03:00.001-07:00

Fire energy has everything to do with spontaneity, creativity and vitality, Denise says. According to her, it's what constitutes the Life Force and our ability to say yes to Life itself. No wonder I'm so into this week of anger, hotheadedness and general badass behavior. It suits me surprisingly well. And even though today's work is challenging me beyond simply going ballistic, I cannot leave this invigorating emotion without telling you emphatically that the gift anger can be a real treat if you let it.

Since I embarked on this engrossing Self-Help quest, one of my biggest breakthroughs hit me harder than a smack in the jowl: I don't like Change. More to the point, I'm being sharply reminded that experiencing Change requires me to change. Before you go, 'Well, yeah, Loser,' may I remind you merely saying you desire Change has absolutely nothing to do with genuine transformation.*

Most of us* let ourselves off the pointy hook of Change and accountability by saying we're interested in doing, being or having new things, yet we rarely* demonstrate any consistent game plan for working toward those professed goals. I know firsthand from whence I speak. I've got extensive experience in this area of talking.** Not to be confused with doing 'jack' (aka nada, zip, zilch and bupkis) about Change, hanging out in talk mode has its perks. E.g./i.e. womb-temperature safety of the comfort zone, no stirring up of the status quo, rocking of boats, cracking of eggshells, and no risk of failure (or success).

Sticking with this work, however, has given me a structure for Change, which I have to return to repeatedly. Only because I committed to doing so for the duration of the program. Otherwise, Soul Coaching would have found a warm spot on my bookshelf right next to all of my swollen heap of Self-Help publications. All that to say these Changes are pretty frigging huge. And, as synchronicity would have it, I discovered an article in today's New York Times addressing this very topic.

This article, "Can You Become a Creature of New Habits?" explained the physio-neurological stuff behind how we create real transformation in our lives. A few passages I was particularly fond of are:

“Try lacing your hands together,” Ms. Markova says. “You habitually do it one way. Now try doing it with the other thumb on top. Feels awkward, doesn’t it? That’s the valuable moment we call confusion, when we fuse the old with the new.”
AFTER the churn of confusion, she says, the brain begins organizing the new input, ultimately creating new synaptic connections if the process is repeated enough.
But if, during creation of that new habit, the “Great Decider” steps in to protest against taking the unfamiliar path, “you get convergence and we keep doing the same thing over and over again,” she says.

“You cannot have innovation,” she adds, “unless you are willing and able to move through the unknown and go from curiosity to wonder.”

So perfect was this article for today's exercise, it seemed to fall right into my lap. And that's part of what Denise was looking for by asking us to stay present to the day as it unfolded in waves of tiny miracles, blessings and synchronicity at work. Naturally, I'm all to happy to include a few of mine here:
1. Rick James. The first song cued up in my iTunes this morning was "Bustin' Out" by America's sorely missed master of funky R&B. His lyrics spoke of breaking away from the imprisonment of 'L7 Square' in favor of a funkier, more suitable situation. I took his tune to mean a great day of Change was afoot. He also suggested it was time to fire up a "J" and even though I don't indulge in marijuana, I can appreciate his mention of getting 'fired' up.

2. Free sweets. An east-coast friend called this evening and said he was taking himself to the movies. I had been entertaining a similar idea of taking myself out to a neighborhood café for some leisure reading and a scoop or two of ice cream. My friend's call gave me the boost I needed. On top of his gift, the café workers offered me two free pastries before I left because, they explained, they'd have to throw them out otherwise.

3. A Miracle Meter. As I drove downtown this morning I saw an open parking space right outside my destination, but it was blocked by a huge beverage truck. Rather than waiting for it to move, I pulled around the corner and discovered another open spot that had a four-hour meter and rolled right into it. The original spot only had a two-hour meter, which would have sent me running back to feed it in the middle of my errands.

I had loads of little goodies like these all day long, and I had fun thinking the day was tailor-made for me, rife with gifts sent compliments of the universe. What a turnaround from my last entry. (Can I just say how fond I am of anger right now?)

What a difference a day makes.

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*Don't ask me for hard numbers on this; I just know I'm right.

**Gee, I wonder how I could sneak this highly marketable skill into my résumé.

Day 17: Firecrackers

2008-05-09T12:31:00.000-07:00

To recap: According to Denise, Fire Week is about releasing all of the emotional gunk that floated to the surface during Water Week. She assured us there would be lots of anger and irritation, facing old Fear and moving in new directions.

I'm all over it.

Maybe it's because I'm a fire sign.* Maybe it's because I'm starting to see the benefit in this process of looking at What Lies Beneath. After much kicking, spitting and screaming I have become accustomed to appearing ridiculous to my reading visitors. I seem to have washed away the idea of shame and decorum, and that brings me to today's work of Letting it Rip.

Denise urges us to air old skeletons because, she writes, they are attached to guilt and shame and keep us separated from personal freedom and Authentic Self-realization. So, if you haven't already had enough of my raucous revelations, here are a few more Issues that had been rattling around in the crannies of my Shadow Self** since I was a pup:

1. When I was about three or four, I defaced our family bible with a black felt marker. To my mind, I was doodling, but when my father found it and urged my siblings to fess up—since he was certain there was no way I could have discovered writing implements at such a young age—I kept my mouth shut. I knew speaking up meant trouble, and why ask for trouble? Still, I felt bad about the awkwardness of that situation.

Even then, I remember thinking it would be worse to pipe up and tell him the truth. He was convinced I was still a baby—helpless and entirely innocent, so why deprive him of his false though perfect picture? All I knew was not to piss him off any more than he was at the time.

Here's another:

2. I ripped out a boy's fake rattail, threw it to the ground and stomped on it in front of our middle school friends. It was a totally spontaneous gesture on my part, and the boy's extension was attached by a barrette so no hair was lost, thank Goodness. Still, as I ground his rattail into the dirt with the heel of my shoe, I understood I had embarrassed him deeply, but I couldn't easily apologize and save face at the same time. For all I know, Jeff's synthetic barretted braid is still languishing in the dirt of our old junior high school lawn.

What a load off! Confession rocks. Guilt is useless. And as I've said before, Fear is boring.

Last on our list of duties today is to make a list of our sexual history and to project what it might be like in the future. She says even though we all have sexual pasts, they don't have to determine our future. I'll leave that one alone online and continue it privately. Even I have my limits, people.

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*Hi, I'm an Aries, and I like long walks on the beach, candle light and Nabisco Cheezits. This is not a come-on because I am happily involved with a lovely man right now. We have Relations and share occasional meals. He's my Partner, so no funny business, y'all. However, I don't have no ring on my finger as yet and could possibly—however remote the suggestion—be open to reading heartfelt professions of love and adoration from others via email at this time.

**Denise uses this term to suggest 'darker' aspects of ourselves that we do not acknowledge or take credit for.

Day 16: Hot Under the Collar

2008-05-08T21:57:00.001-07:00

Denise warned me there'd be days like these. Yesterday, on account of technical difficulties and being away from my computer, I was unable to post the day's entry as I had intended, which pissed me off. On top of that, I awoke to rising anger at spending the bulk of my previous afternoon at a job unfair that cost me time and money that I may never recoup. Just the same, yesterday was full-tilt madness.

Here are a few more reasons why I was so hot under the collar:
1. I was mad at trying to be so fucking positive, which caused me to be
2. mad about not being positive despite knowing an optimistic outlook really does make a fucking difference. On top of which,
3. resorting to foul language only makes me look like a dumbass because I'm a writer, and surely I can use bigger, better words to make my points. And that shortfall in my character totally burns me. In addition to which,
4. I resented the fact that gas costs $4 a gallon. I can't say WTF enough on that one. I was also beside myself, positively seething with rage because
5. my cat has perfected his shitty habit of waiting until I'm sitting near the litter box to take an atomic dump that I have to clean up. No doubt you see the metaphor of my having to take crap on a daily basis.*

Need I mention the day's mounting irritations made me feel altogether victimized and powerless? Which, of course, led to me right back to #2.

Then, just as I was ready chalk up my losses for the day, a miracle ripped through my cloud of fury and funk like a . . . like a . . .. Quick, what's something that rips through clouds? (Lightning? The Mighty Hammer of Thor? Jet planes?)

At an evening workshop I was leading, I asked participants to share something about themselves that we didn't already know with the rest of the group. When I presented my litany of grievances, I was surprised and heartened by the laughter that erupted around the table. True to form, I realized that series of events was working out the day's exercise for me without even consciously thinking about it.

Day 16 was about stepping out of comfort zones by breaking old habits and having fun. The request seemed easy enough, but being a hearty independent Can-Do kind of woman often meant I had major Resistance when it doing things in a new way. For example when it came to asking for assistance of any kind, I refused, despite my own incessant need to help, Help, HELP anyone who looked like they needed it. Being Can-Do also meant 'sucking it up' and avoiding the expression of anger (and Fire) because:

a. anger looks bad on sensible women;
b. it's better to do something constructive instead of going apeshit for no apparent reason;
c. anger could never be constructive, and;
d. if you don't have anything nice to say, it's better to keep it to yourself because
e. anger is dangerous and can hurt people's feelings.

Yesterday I recognized items a–e are utter bullshit.**

Man, do I love this Fire week!

Yesterday—and every other day of this process—I broke old habits switching up my routine and stepping out of the tried and true. I had lots of fun moving out of Can-Do by sharing my Issues with others, not worrying how they received it, and not only did I manage to bust out a great big laugh at myself, but I risked rejection and broke my taxing Can-Do habit in favor of throwing a pretty little fit.

I never knew burning anger could warm the heart so.

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*If you're not rending your garments and wailing in sympathy for me right now, you've got no heart. Seek help.

**Believe me when I tell you I had no idea I'd be cursing this fucking much on this blog. What can I tell you; I'm on Fire.

Day 15: Trial by Fire

2008-05-07T15:55:00.000-07:00

As we enter our third week, the week of Fire, we continue down the road to Actual Self-realization with more purification and cleansing by the burning flames of introspection and outward confrontation. Today's target: Fear.

Once again I'm way ahead of Denise because, as you may recall, I provided a short list of my fears a few days ago.* This time around, though, Denise urges us to move past Fears by looking at them head on and nudging past their perceived edges. I like that she reminds me, "the road to success is often paved with failure." Not that I'd call myself an outright failure by any means—unless I already have and conveniently chose to forget it here—but her statement gives me the slightest push to pour a little more elbow grease into my dreams and to stay busy doing them, if that makes sense.

On any given day the overwhelming temptation to view myself as hapless victim and unwitting pawn in the game of Life makes me want to throw up my hands and say WTF. However, as she so deftly points out in her exercises, we can choose to see the value in what we do—whether we've screwed up royally or not.

Allow me to illustrate yet another opportunity to bust past my fears and take action toward getting something I wanted. Don't tell my employers, but I went to a job fair today. Laying my fear of never having a decent income aside, I spruced up and headed downtown to network and mingle with professionals from more than forty—40!—different companies. I put several $4-gallons of gas** into my tank and headed to the facility in a smart coat dress, nude lip gloss and kitten heels. I was sooo cute! I mean, professional and savvy. While en route stopped at the copy shop and had fifty resumes printed up. Ten bucks later, I pull into the $19 parking garage, which inconveniently happened to be the only option within a half-mile radius. Of the seventeen businesses present at the unfair, I spoke to four and didn't feel compelled in the least to chat with the Secret Service, Marines or Morton Salt people. Call me picky, but I gotta draw the line, folks.

I'd be lying if I said I was happy to be out $50 for what amounted to nothing. I was victimized! Somebody call the police!

BUT.

Because I've got new tools now, new ways of seeing my experiences, I decided to interpret my venture into the job market from a successful perspective. I broke out of my fear/comfort zone regarding work and took action. Nevermind I could have bought groceries and kept my lights on with the money I forked over to . . . WTF?

In other areas of breaking out of fear patterns and taking action, I called the bar owner where my band occasionally plays and told him he must pay us more or we're done. Ordinarily I might have been reluctant to say as much because I used to be all trembly with gratitude that people actually let me hold a microphone in their establishment at all. That was then. Interestingly enough, the man's feathers were ruffled by my news. I was stepping out of line, according to him. But, guess what, y'all? This is the week of Fire, and that means I gotta reduce the frequency at which my ass gets burned.

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*See the "Fear of Air" entry if you need a refresher on this one.

**WTF!

Day 14: Half-full Glass

2008-05-06T21:18:00.000-07:00

Today marks the halfway point on my quest to meet my Authentic Self and that's great news. I think. After the first week of pulling teeth and behaving badly, I'm starting to see how much muck I had to wade through to arrive at this point. Daily synchronicities are mounting, and I can't deny the fact that I feel much better and not nearly so riddled with a loser-ish vibe like before.

And to prove it, a quick story about positive signs. As I was writing my notes in an offline journal earlier this evening, a ladybug landed on my hand. If you've seen Under the Tuscan Sun, I can stop right there. If, however, you're one of the three people who didn't catch it—one of those three people sorely in need of Self Help—the story's central character, Francis, is told by one of the more colorful expatriates in the Italian village that when a ladybug lands on you, it means love either has found you or it's on its way. I'm sure I've destroyed the sentiment of that scene; I'm also positive no one's going to write me and tell me what a poor a job I've done on that score.*

While our Water week is all about letting emotions flow freely, Denise is encouraging me yet again to continue cleaning my place and clearing out clutter in whatever places I've missed. Actually, I mopped my floors the other day and got incredibly frustrated at rifling through my junk draw earlier this morning. Funny how it never bothered me so much before.

In addition to the continued Clearing, Denise is challenging me to release victim thinking by finding the positive lessons in Everything. She's suggesting that in order to find my Authentic Self, I have to look directly at all of my not-so-flattering bits and come clean with the reasons why I brought them on myself. That one's gonna take a while.

Another area of getting Authentic is in looking at the kinds of questions we ask of ourselves and others. She breaks these into categories of Unworthy and Worthy. An Unworthy question—ripped from a page of my own as-yet unpublished (and unwritten) bestseller—might be, "How come I'm always broke?" According to Denise, this kind of query perpetuates negative thinking because it's generated from a stance of lack. Naturally, the subconscious will respond in kind by saying something like, "Because you're a Loser, and that's what Losers do; they stay fiscally inert, Loser." Not only have I put myself down by suggesting I'm destined to be broke and bungling forever, but I've sent a message to my Deeper (Higher?) Self that gives it/Her/me the go-ahead to kick me square in the ass when I'm down. That smarts!

Now, when I go in and flip the script, transforming my earlier question to a Worthy one, I'm phrasing it like a winner might. Not only does my subconscious mind accept that I'm on top of the heap, it/She/I will respond with winnerly answers and impulses. And so will the world around me. Here's what my Unworthy question looks like as a Worthy one:

Unworthy: "How come I'm always broke?"

becomes . . .

Worthy: "What's the best way to direct my constant stream of infinite wealth and abundance now that I'm totally out of debt, totally money in every way and exceedingly fabulous?"

I can get used to this.

Finally, Denise asks us to recall a situation where we felt poorly treated. Again, I'll walk you through my own personal experience so as to enlighten and guide you in the process.

The Offending Incident: No one ever returned my electronic request for getting a discount rate at a fancy Hawaiian Self-Help seminar. I was vulnerable and in desperate need of a Life Makeover. I interpreted their lack of response as so-called enlightened, elitist b.s. and outright rejection. Those fuckers.

Revised: On the positive hand, when I look at what I gained from that experience, I can't help but think it's a good thing I was broke and couldn't afford to go Improve myself in Hawaii. Otherwise, I'd never have the opportunity to sit at home spilling my guts and most intimate moments of insecurity and midlife malaise with a virtual group of supporters who never call and rarely write to me. I'm not victimized at all anymore, see?

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*I'm still waiting for an explanation of e.g. and i.e., so I know you won't bother me about a few lines from a not-so-recent chick flick.

Day 13: Dripping with Gratitude

2008-05-05T08:22:00.000-07:00

Hello again and thank you for your continued company on the journey to my Authentic Self. Did I tell you how much I appreciate your fellowship, despite the fact that you don't call or write?

I know, you're wondering where all this newfound attitude of gratitude has come from, even though it might sound to your ear that I'm being snarky and rude. I can't claim the credit for it. Denise is at it again.

Today's exercise is about being grateful. For everything. And, as I think about it, I can look out through my squeaky clean east-facing windows and find lots of reasons things to be thankful. It's a good thing, too, because you know Denise wants me to put it in a list. Even the items I'm not so thankful for, she wants me to put a grateful spin on 'em. Again, I'll be crafting a longer list offline, but here are a few gratitude items that come to mind:

I'm truly grateful for:
• Overall good health and an assortment of loose teas.
• Loved ones who know I'm adventurous enough to try anything once, except as one indelicate friend put it, "You'll climb Mt. Everest before you do something your body was actually meant to do, like have a baby."
• A roomy car with lots of space to haul energy zappers away from my home.
• A loving man with whom I have sex and occasional shared meals.

Not so much:
• Nagging fiscal inertial.
• Numerous Inscrutable Life Questions.
• Negligible success and overarching mediocrity and debt at midlife.

A Postive Spin on the Not So Much:
• I'm truly thankful for the opportunity to be broke right now so that I can fully appreciate the flexibility of financial freedom when it comes calling.
• I'm truly thankful to have so many Questions about Life to ponder right now because without them, I'd probably be watching way too much TV and either suffer from the repeated assaults of the advertising industry—which include incessant appeals from correspondence schools and emergency loan companies—or become depressed by subpar programming.
• I'm truly thankful to live a life unencumbered by notoriety, virtuosity and wealth because that would surely spoil me rotten.

Denise ends the exercise by asking me to stand in front of the mirror and tell myself I love me. Looks like I'll be needing it once I finish this latest list. No flailing arms or exultations this time. Just a right-in-the-eyes declaration. Denise went on to talk about how difficult this might be for some, but I'm all over this one. In fact, I generally wake up singing and dancing. Go ahead, ask anybody.

Actually, this week of Water has been relatively pain free. I'm not whining and wincing nearly as much as last week, and I'm noticing that I've already been thinking along the same lines as the exercises when I open the book for the day's work. Still, I'll be incorporate more of the Mirror Messaging* in my daily routine. An increased profession of love from the person who knows me best—me!—can't hurt, right?

I should also mention that since I tossed the energy-zapping baubles in my kitchen—which, according to fung shui and the layout of my apartment, has everything to do with my money space, I think (not that I know anything about it officially)—I received an email just this afternoon from Apple saying they needed to re-send me a refund check because it hadn't been cashed. Between me and you, I submitted that rebate in 2006 when I lived in the Southwest. They, in turn, sent me a letter claiming I had missed the rebate deadline and would have to eat the $100 expense. "Bastards!" I yelled. "Fuck!" I remember it clearly, trust me. Imagine my surprise when I call them today, a full two years later, and they tell me to expect the check within two weeks. Coincidence? WTF.

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*My own term for Denise's exercise. Hey, I've got to come up with my own fancy names for some of this stuff if I ever want to write my own Self-Help book and sound like I know what I'm talking about, right? How else can I charge you ridiculous fees for my Hawaii workshops?

Day 12: Still Waters

2008-05-04T13:50:00.000-07:00

Today's exercise is right up my alley. I've been asked to slow down, look for signs and do nothing. I'm good at all three. After yesterday's epiphany and realizing that my parents are in fact human and lovable—on top of the Spirit Stick business—I'm better equipped to look around my living space and see additional areas for clearing. Woo hoo!

To my surprise I discovered a pair of dismal trinkets in my kitchen that were draining positive energy from my living space and, whether this revelation is real or imagined, I sure feel good getting rid of them. Just like the prison bar photo I talked about way back during the week of Wind, I saw that my kitchen statuettes were crafty tributes to suffering and pain as well as the idea that I am somehow trapped, undeserving of happiness and destined to suffer for my Art and Survival. Bull. Shit.

Seeing my apartment and outer world as a reflection of what's going on inside me is becoming such a cathartic experience, everything around me seems to be all a-twitter with meaning. On first glance at my apartment—back around Day One Half—I looked pretty good. But once I began spiffing things up a bit, I'm thinking I'm even better.

How neat is that?!

As for my duties today, once again, I'm a step ahead of Denise (who seems to be ripping off my unpublished book ideas yet again!) since I already spotted those signs in the kitchen. And just like the prison bar photo, I've moved positive energy into the void. Now I'm off on a slow walk to the lake where I'll sit in the afternoon sun and do absolutely nothing.

Even if this whole pursuit is hooey, the act of throwing old shit away feels great. You don't have to say it; I know. I rock.

Day 11: Dams

2008-05-03T15:45:00.000-07:00

Still going with the flow of the week, I'm not surprised that all sorts of old Stuff is floating to the surface. Denise warned me it would. I've even been getting more calls and emails from old friends "out of the blue." That's no coincidence, I'm sure. And just as she advised me to be aware of synchronicities and coincidences, I can only laugh at the fact that I bought a broom and window cleaner yesterday only to be told by her to wash my windows today.

I'm actually amazed at how open I am becoming to the process of Clearing. Like a hot shower and good deodorant, "Soul Coaching" is quickly becoming part of my daily cleansing ritual. Today I've been asked to notice my recurring emotional patterns and my willingness to change them. The first pattern that came to mind was procrastination and making myself late for things I don't really want to do. I'm not thrilled at revealing such an unflattering aspect of myself, but recognizing it is the best part of this work. At least I can see what I'm doing in order to change it. How to change insidious behavior like this? With the help of hearty affirmations. Yep! We're back to punching the air and flailing about as we acknowledge the smiling face of Change in our lives.

If you're willing, try this affirmation when you come upon a pattern you'd like to shift. Don't forget to get those arms going:
"I am willing to release this pattern [your pattern here] and accept that I am safe and protected [or whatever]!"

If you happened by my windows right now, you'd have seen me doing a mad chicken impression—frantic arms, big eyes, wide-open mouth and all. You would have thought I was seizing. Actually, I was seizing . . . the opportunity to Change. I am so clever, I have to touch myself. Hold, please.

Denise opens today's work by talking about emotions that persist when we don't acknowledge and experience them. (My "water under the bridge" comments a few days ago apply nicely on this point. Watch out Honey, I feel a book coming on!

So as not to let anyone off the hook of addressing repetitive relationship patterns up one side and down the other, Denise deftly presents yet another handy list of questions to ponder. Forgiveness, anger, love, healing and release rank high on this one. I won't go on about it because it's more important to close in on the Big Kahuna* of today's hunt for the Authentic Self: Parents.

I'm curious about exploring my relationships with my mom and dad (via paper and computer this time around) for about 114,753,275 different reasons, but I'll break it down to three for the sake of my tiring hands.

1. WTF went wrong? The first question I ask when I find myself broken hearted at the end of another doomed love affair is, "What the fuck is wrong with me now?" Without fail, my unsatisfactory answers eventually make their way to the feet of my folks. I get frustrated at them for what I think they did or didn't do for me before finally calming down, sucking it up one more time and acting like my hurt feelings are water under the bridge. We know where that gets us.

2. Were they raised by wolves? If my parents had all the answers I thought they should have had when I was a pup, I'd be sitting pretty damn pretty right now. But they didn't, so I'm not. How inconvenient an excuse for them—they're human. There goes my teenage theory that they were at some point suckled by a strain of wolf that ran dangerously short on TLC genetic material. What are the odds?

3. Can we talk? When I entered my twenties and felt I had established my own identity apart from that of simply being my parents' kid, I wanted to reconnect with them as eye-to-eye adults. I figured we'd go out for a stiff drink and have a heart-to-heart about their parenting styles and my resulting failures, negligible successes and overarching mediocrity. "So, Fred, Mary," I imagined myself saying, "let's excoriate the superficiality of our relational selves and mine the depths of our Core Beliefs so as to arrive at a consensus on your respective approaches to parenting." Yeah. Right.

Rather than speculate on what's wrong with parents—which is fruitless and way too easy—Denise goes one further and asks us to imagine what's right with them. Doggone if she isn't a revolutionary in my book.**

Day 11 finds me imagining my mom and dad as kids—innocent and full of the same hope and vitality I'm/we're making room for. Here's yet another exercise I can't recommend enough. I closed my eyes and saw my father as a glassy-eyed baby in diapers. I haven't laid eyes on him in years, and he may actually be wearing diapers now for all I know; that's beside the point. Looking into his innocent face, I felt a rush of love for the infant and wanted to smell is baby smell, pinch his cheeks and protect his open heart.

Following that image into his days as a young boy, I saw this younger version of my father in knee pants running free through the streets of his neighborhood. I realized again my love of learning and adventure come from him. I got an ample dose of his piss-and-vinegar spirit. He was the kind of neighborhood kid I might have hung out with and raced down the block a few times. I'd take every opportunity to beat him to the corner and gloat, knowing he would surely outrun me one day and never look back. We would have been best buds.

Seeing my mother as a baby, I imagine she was agreeable, cuddly child that loved to be held and dressed in pretty dresses. She was a steady one, clinging to the few people and passtimes she gave herself to. From day one, she was loyal. A keeper. I'm sure of it.

My mom was the kind of young girl I probably wouldn't have been friends with because she didn't care to rip and run in the streets yelling and chasing the wind like I did. I imagine my mother took good care of her clothes and liked looking pretty as a young lady. She was—and still is—good at that. My creativity was handed to me through her. I also have her to thank for teaching me manners and imparting class by example.

Seeing my parents as brand new in the world and following them along the timelines I imagined for them gave me a whole new compassion for the folks who call me their daughter. I felt a tremendous flood of compassion for them and remembered that spark of True Love and Trust in their/our eyes never goes out totally. Understanding this seemed to melt away old judgments—favorable and otherwise—about my parents and made them real for me in a way they never had been before. In fact, right now, I'm so grateful for whatever they did or didn't do to shape my life as I know it, I may make a virtual play date with them again real soon.

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*Speaking of language, where does this phrase come from? Seeing as how no one answered me about i.e. and e.g., I won't hold my breath for answers to this one.

**In fact, somebody remind me to give her a shout out in my as yet unpublished book, would ya?

Day Ten: Miracle Growth

2008-05-02T08:29:00.001-07:00

It's raining here on Friday morning. Quite fitting for Water week.

I debated about whether to enter the rest of yesterday's entry on yesterday's post, and I chose not to because yesterday is past, and I actually do have other things to attend to besides this Self-Help stuff (which on some level explains why I need Self-Help in the first place). Plus, Denise said to be gentle with myself if I can't get to tasks on any given day. I must keep in mind this undertaking is about Help, after all, and not Self-Kicking in the Ass for Uncompleted Exercises.

When I awoke yesterday, I casually took notice of the potted plant on my bedroom windowsill. Without having read the day's exercise, my unassuming houseplant led me right to it. All I had to do was roll over and "wake up" to its wisdom. I don't give a shit how cheesy this experience may sound; if it hadn't happened to me, I'd think I was crazy, too. I'm in good company, though, since I'm certain people laughed when Bob Marley first mentioned three little birds who sat by his doorstep and sang to him, "Don't worry about a thing because every little thing is gonna be alright."

Anyway, here's the story of this plant. I bought it about fourteen months ago—a smallish, green leafy thing with pink edges and veins. I sat it in my living room window where it flourished and all but died months later. I left it there for a few more months intending to toss it out, but I was too lazy to do so. I let it languish in plain sight.

Then, on a very short-lived cleaning frenzy, I looked closely at the plant and saw that a tiny portion of it was still struggling to live. So, I cut away most of the dead bits and kept what amounted to little more than a twig.

That was a year ago.

Since that clipping, I re-potted the plant and moved it to my bedroom where its spindly green stalk has flourished and even flowers every few weeks. Another stalk recently punched through the dirt and is rising steadily beside the original one.

Two days ago I went with my Partner to the local greenhouse where he was purchasing seeds for his garden. While he roamed the aisles deciding between kale and collard seeds or wildflower and carrot packets, colorful potted plants seemed to be springing up and dripping down from every inch of the store. You would have thought I had just learned of flowers for the first time. All manner of shapes and colors. Some hearty and others fragile as feathers. I noticed delicate stalks were fastened to sticks that supported them as they grew. Suddenly—I'm talking, 'Pow!'—I made the connection about needing a supportive stick for my own plant at home. And I needed it right away, I insisted. I asked the sales attendant where I could purchase such a prop.

"You can get a free stick off the ground," my guy so lovingly interjected. "Why would you need to buy one?"*

When I went back home and continued my Clearing, I discovered another use for an old dried rose I had thrown out earlier that morning. Ta-dah! There was my stick! So what if the old rose had been lying around my place nearly two months before it occurred to me to cut the petals off and recycle it in this way. Incorporating a pair of plastic twist ties to secure the stem to its new (free!) stick, I was thrilled at a resourcefulness that had only taken a year to materialize.

Skipping along to yesterday morning . . .. I rolled over and looked at my proud accomplishment and noticed the plant had changed overnight. New buds had formed along the stem. I was sure of it. Then—zowie!—another epiphany overcame me as I awakened even more to the excitement of Spring, change and new growth. Although the stalk had been alive, the dead leaves had been choking off its growth a year before. The plant needed a little help (the cutting) to get on with its business of living. Months later, as it bloomed and grew and bloomed again, the weight of the leaves was placing a strain on its stalk. Again, it needed support for its continued development. Just as I do/we do. Holy shit, what a miracle.

Wait! There's more.

The even greater wonder of Growth is that we are more advanced than plants. Evidence is scant on this topic, and many will challenge me on this point, but I stand by it. A major difference between us and flora and fauna is that we, unlike houseplants and pets, can ask for support as well as give it. We don't have to struggle and choke to death under our own detritus, dead leaves and Stuff. When we have love and support from people who give to our lives rather than take, it holds us up and enables us to bloom and grow. Just like my little potted green darling.***

Hot damn if that isn't a mouthful for just waking up.

Turns out Day Nine exercises were all about finding meaning in the mundane. And, get this, Denise had a "Spirit Stick" exercise, too, which called for decorating a stick to symbolize my life and what matters in it. Imagine my excitement at seeing I had already done the day's work before getting out of bed. I decided my "Spirit Stick"—the stick that held up my plant—didn't need to be decorated because it was a grounded and vital part of something beautiful and thriving.

Today's work centers around being aware of energy—of what lowers it and what lifts it. Again, Denise is asking for a list of these things, feelings, people and activities. I'll do the bulk of this work in my offline journal, but I can share a few of my goodies right now:

Energy Lifters
Meals shared with people I love.
Opening my heart and home to welcomed guests.
Belly laughs.
Daily walks.

Energy Lowerers
Ignorant people—which include bigots, bullshitters and boring types.
Fiscal inertia.
Too many sweets.
Fear.

While I'm getting lots of encouraging feedback away from this blog about the changes friends can see in me from doing this work, it's no Secret how these changes are being made. This work is Rigorous, trust me. It is constant and deep. So too are the rewards. That being said, when I come out of this process dripping in riches—be they financial, emotional, mental, spiritual or whatever—don't act like you didn't see it coming.

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*He's a genius, it's true. And he's taken,** so don't try any funny stuff.

**No, I still don't got no ring on my finger. But you know what I mean.

***I'm glad plants don't have mouths; I would hate to hear what mine have to say about me being so slow on the uptake sometimes.

Day Nine: Water under the Bridge

2008-05-01T06:08:00.000-07:00

Beware the cliché—that overused phrase we reach for when we haven't stopped long enough to consider what we're saying. And since Water week is swimming right along, I have to mention language for a minute. Of course Denise has already talked about this—about how changing the way I talk and think can change my life. I get it, I do, but I sometimes need to hear things repeatedly before they take. Today is no exception.

When we describe a past feeling or experience as "water under the bridge," the general message behind the statement is not to "cry over spilled milk"* or to essentially move on without acknowledging the emotions around the Issues. Well, after yesterday's exercise identifying my life's Major Turning Points, I realized I hadn't always taken time to embrace the feeling of what I was feeling, if that makes sense. As a result, I seemed to retroactively experience the emotions of a few turning points as though I never had before. Because I hadn't. Because when they happened, I treated them as water under the bridge. Thusly, in the immortal words of one of our greatest icons—the Godfather of Soul—let's "take it to the bridge, y'all!"

As someone who goes it on foot quite a bit, I have seen my share of bridges and the water beneath those bridges. Not pretty. If the bridge isn't over a moving body of water (a symbolically healthy emotional flow) it is often pooled, stagnant water that serves as a breeding ground for mosquitoes and vermin of every stripe. Not to mention derelicts, vagabonds and no-goods often hang out under bridges. People get hurt under there where no witnesses exist, unless you count the above mentioned bums. Even in the full tilt of daylight, the space beneath bridges can be terrifying. Garbage and waste collect under bridges. Just add water, and you've got a real mess on your brewing (which can easily be read as key ingredients for emotional breakdown). How's that for your water under the bridge?

Man, I'm really cooking, and I haven't even gotten to the day's exercise. I'm off to ponder it now. In the meantime, grab that repellent and do as James Brown and I did: Take it to the bridge with your bad Self.

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*If you've ever been fiscally inert—losing food really is something to cry about. But if that spilled milk is laced with hormones and genetically modified organisms (GMOs), you're better off without it.

Day Eight: Water Water Everywhere

2008-04-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

If you've made it this far, you too have survived a full week of Air. Can't say I was expecting such a shake-em-up seven days, and I might honestly have re-thought this spiritual excursion if I had read the book before proposing this project.

Fools rush in.

Just the same, here we are, wading into the deep waters of a new week. During the next seven days, according to Denise, we will be evaluating our emotions, our relationships, our dreams and, of course, Issues. Well spank my tail and call me Fannie; I didn't see that one coming.

Day Eight. Might as well dig right in on this one. Water is associated with the emotions and purification. And according to Ms. Linn, it means we should drink lots of it—water, that is—in order to do more . . . you guessed it . . . Clearing!

As with the exercises of the past week, today finds me examining the story of my life and its major turning points in an effort to identify my recurring patterns and lessons learned. Like all the rest, this task is an engrossing one. I'd better go get into it. Perhaps I'll be visited by some keen insights during my daily walk this evening.

But before I go ponder the day's Question, I must tell you that I swept my entire apartment today and did even more space clearing even though it wasn't asked of me. What's this? Voluntary cleaning? How'd she do that?

For the past two days, my walks haven't been as breezy and delightful as the recent afternoon of swinging on swings and tra-la-la-ing through the park alongside the Man With Whom I Have Sex and Occasional Meals. Instead, these walks have been more process-oriented and brainstormy in nature. I can't underestimate the value of leisurely strolls for their Clearing ability. No offense to my couch potato contingent, but I'm just saying.

I used today's walk to think both about yesterday's mission statement and my life's major turning points so far. As for the latter, I'm certain the former has everything to do with it. Put another way, I know my mission statement—whatever it winds up being—will be amply represented in the Big Events of my life. I'm seeing this statement as kind of a stage upon which these big deals go down.

How's about we take a peek at some of my Big Life Events and itinerant emotions?*

Age: 10
This moment might have marked one of my first appearances on stage as a performer. I was part of the Andrew Sisters, a popular trio of harmonic songbirds from the forties. It was the first time I learned about blended voices, stage presence, choreography, playing dress-up, wearing make-up and sounding pretty damn good. The crowd loved us. We sang "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B." Hot damn, were we good!
Emotion(s): pride, fun, happiness, abandon, creativity, courage

Age: 20
During a summer at home from college, I was hired to be a cashier at a beachfront restaurant. Apparently the Big boss didn't like the looks of me and ordered me to take a lie detector test in order to keep the job I'd already been hired for. Not knowing any better, I complied. I also got fired soon after because, when asked if I had ever broken the law. Well, yes. I wasn't yet 21, and underage drinking is illegal. And what about stealing from work, they asked? Again, yes, I answered. Because isn't it stealing to walk away with a company pen or to take restaurant food home without paying for it? When the guy who hired me had to then turn around and fire me, he told me I should have lied. WTF?
Emotion(s): anger, shame, betrayal, powerlessness, disappointment, frustration

Age: 30
Rather than throw up my hands and decide to suck it all up and stay put in the big apple, I decided I was ready for a major Life Change. I had been wanting to leave the state and go back to school to pursue the one true love that got away during my undergraduate years: writing. No more Fear that writing wouldn't pay or that a real investment—of time or money—spent on myself would ever be a burden. When the time came time to sell, dump or transfer my belongings and boldly turn the page of my brand new chapter, I did just that.
Emotion(s): excitement, anxiety, hope, fear, certainty, self-sufficiency, ambivalence, chutzpah

Whew! Was that a mouthful or what? Believe me, there's a whole lot more emotion where those came from. Suffice it to say this exercise, once I got rolling with it, reminded me that I'm a whole f-ing lot more ______**** than I give myself credit for.

How come I'm feeling like this Water Week is going to be more like a rinse cycle?

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*FYI, Denise asks that we** not only list our Big Life Events, but she also wants us** to include our** emotions during those moments.

**Humor me here. I'm assuming somebody—other than my Authentic Self—is doing this book with me, so that accounts for the intermittent use of 'we,' 'us' and 'our.'

***More like Philadelphia.

****Let's keep that open for now. I'm searching for just the right word here. Any suggestions?

Day Seven: Fear of Air

2008-04-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

I self-diagnose a lot, and as I see it, I'm suffering from way more than fiscal inertia—I'm afraid of Air.*

If we use Denise's model of Air representing the possibility of Change—i.e.** Clearing the Air, getting fresh Air, Airing our differences or laundry and so on—then I'm afraid of it. And I can prove it.

1. I'm afraid of failure. Who wants to bear/bare their souls or bright ideas or even a new outfit or Significant Other and be subject to anything less than a warm reception and marching band? Taking the risk is risky. I've got a million ideas, and I've had plenty of them flop in the past. I couldn't possibly present another one to public scrutiny. There's a chance it could go belly up like my other Stuff. Leave all the creativity to people who really know what they're doing, right?

2. I'm afraid of success. So let's say I do venture forward with my Big Ideas, and somebody actually thinks it's neat. And then, what if lots of people glom onto it and look to me to churn out even more, better, neater ideas and I come up short? I can't possibly let everyone down like that. So maybe it's better to stay where I am and not venture out into the deep waters of success. Besides, there's no guarantee my cockamamie ideas will fly, anyway. So, yeah, I'll just stay in bed. Pass the chips, please.

3. I'm afraid of mediocrity. For shits and giggles, how about we say my ideas, my pet projects, my Art finds its way into the hands of a few dozen people in the world beyond the handful of sympathetic friends and family members who put up with my artistic outbursts? They're just being nice and can't bear to tell me to sit down and shut up; I just know it, bless their hearts. After all these years, it stands to reason I've never gotten anywhere: I'm merely mediocre. Please save your Self Help books for me; I may need them down the road one winter.

4. I'm afraid of exposure. Great Scott! What if my creative musings and outbursts actually find a wider audience and people I may never meet face to face actually want to buy what I'm selling? That means they'll want access to me. And if they get it, what if they see that I'm really a sham and not nearly as talented, beautiful and masterful—or kooky—as they were led to believe? Omigod, then I'm really sunk. I couldn't bear being exposed for all to see like that. Help!

5. I'm afraid of being alone. Then again, what if no one ever truly sees me? I could wind up like one of those test babies that never got any hugs or love growing up and wound up being socially unacceptable and ostracized for the rest of their lives. There have been real studies done on this type of thing. If I play it safe, and stay inside the lines—even though it's kind of too late for that—than maybe I'd never get noticed. By anyone. Even now, maybe the people who get me, what if they all move away and forget me? What if my back alley buddy makes it B-I-G and I got nobody to burn chapters with for heat? Now I'm really getting frightened.

6. I'm afraid of rambling. What if nobody ever listens to me again because I simply can't keep quiet? This Fear is really the only reason I have been able to hold myself back from giving you the extended version of this list. Consider yourself lucky.

See? Everywhere I turn, there's Fear. Just like Air, it's inescapable. Only now, I'm starting to see it. Unlike Charlie Brown's funky friend, Pigpen, who was forever plagued with a cloud of Stuff, I'm becoming aware of my persistent Crap (See items 1–6), and it has arrived with quite a thunderous revelation: Fear is boring.

And that's what brings me to Day Seven. Our final Day of Air. Our Final Day of Fear. Deep breath everyone!

Today Denise challenges us to craft a spiritual mission statement—a true-to-life soul purpose, a raison d'être*** to answer, for once and for all, the burning Question of our very existence(s).

Of course I'll be doing this offline because it's going to take a while to construct, revise and polish. I encourage you to draw up your own such statement, which, if you're following Denise's suggestion, begins like this:
"The purpose of my life is . . . "

This time she omits all the air punching and affirmation talk in favor of listening and looking for outer signs that resonate with your soul's real message. Glean from that what you will, but I can tell you now, for someone like me who's always on the alert for signs and stories, I take great comfort in knowing the song that's been looping through my head all day might just be connected to my Purpose.

That song, you ask? "You can do magic, you can do anything that you desire . . .."

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*Ancraophobia, if you want to get all official about it.

**Why has no one written to tell me what this means? C'mon, knowledge is power. Share and share alike.

***Here's anothe prejudice of mine: people who use foreign terms to define Stuff. Trying to be clever or over everybody's heads, I don't know, but it pisses me off, and I want those over educated smartasses to cut it out, capiche?

Day Six: Blown Away

2008-04-28T09:05:00.000-07:00

So I think I'm done with the rallying cries for enthusiasm on this arduous journey of Self Help. I am so ready for this Air week to blow over already. Because I'm seeing just how messy this business is. And Denise knows it, too. She knows exactly how volatile this process is of digging through my Stuff day after day while looking for crumbs of value and insight along the way.

Today's no different.

Remember yesterday when I talked about being on a Cleansing roll, whooshing through each room like a giant dust bunny, scrubbing and organizing, clearing and rejuvenating my space? Well, I'm at it again. See, this is her trick. That Denise, man, she must know me. She's on to the fact that I'm not going as deep with my clearing as I can. She's aware that tossing a couple of random socks and shoe strings doesn't come nearly close enough to earning me a spiritual cigar.

In fact, I've got to admit something to you about yesterday's exercise: I didn't fully go through my papers like she asked. I organized piles, sure, but I didn't rifle through every single scrap. Shit, what do you take me for! Even I have a life to get to. Can't I have people to see, places to go and things to do? Aaargh.

Fine.

I guess this doubles my work for today, then.

I'm heading off to do today's Clearing—and the rest of yesterday's—but, before I do, I have to mention a movie I picked up from the library on Saturday. You'll recall I went there to write, read, relax and take a break from my chores. Well, I picked up "Secrets of the Mind," and all I can say is, 'wow.' Some of you astute types may have already caught this Nova special on PBS some time ago.

Dr. VS Ramachandran goes around investigating* the brains of people who have unusual symptoms, which have been triggered by various brain traumas. For example, there was a guy who lost an arm and still felt clenching pain in his missing hand. The doctor presented him with a "mirror box" that tricked this man's brain into thinking his (phantom) hand was in fact unclenched. When the guy put his (actual) hand in front of the mirror, his brain read the visual picture as being a real-life open hand wiggling its fingers, rather than a painfully closed fist.

Long story short, this neuroscientist showed us how, time and again, the brain gets rewired—or not—according to the stimulus it receives. Now, if we apply this same information to the visualization aspect of Denise's book, that makes a huge case for changing my perceived negative mental perspectives and childhood Core Beliefs to positive ones like I was doing the other day. What if my bad attitude and prejudice against rich people and well-to-do Self Helpers is actually the cause of my chronic fiscal inertia? What if my prejudice is the spiritual clenched fist that's keeping me from opening it up to lots of money and prosperity?

Hold the phone!

Someone should write a book on this. There's my moneymaker right there; I'll do it.

Is that applause I hear? You say you want my autograph?

I'm off to ponder today's exercises and shall return to post my findings thereafter.

Nearly 9:30, and I'm done my exercises for the day. I went through my random stacks and my pocketbook turning out old notes, scraps of reminders I never got around to, old bills I paid online (or not) and articles. Once again, Denise hit me where it hurt—in my articles. Doesn't she know I'm an aspiring avid reader?! What am I supposed to do for reading material when I finally get around to that pursuit? She doesn't get me at all. I'm starting to rethink this relationship.

In other areas of Clearing, I went through the glove box in my car and tossed a couple of James Taylor, Carpenter** and random "Best of" cassettes as well as a few old crumpled napkins that had outlived their usefulness a long time ago. In the kitchen, I consolidated three near-empty canisters of laundry detergent—one of which had been rolling around in the back of my car since the last big blizzard.

Denise says Tibetan Buddhists believe when you clear your environment, you make room for "drala," or magic, to enter. But if your space is messy and cluttered, you guessed it, no magic for you. As if there was anything else left to clear on Day Six, Denise . . .. What, does she have a spycam on her bookjacket or something?! This lady doesn't know me, yet she's got my number. Today, she's put the focus on clearing out mental clutter. According to her:

"Always thinking, analyzing, rationalizing, or worrying without taking time to be quiet and listen to your inner voice, is another type of internal clutter."

Go figure, I think she's right.

My task today was to continue the paper purge (i.e.* clipped articles, Christmas cards, outdated coupons, old letters and Stuff). I went so far as to ditch some of my self-addressed stick-on mailing labels that were made right here in the U.S. of A by disabled veterans. I felt guilty about it, but Denise is right again. I'll never get around to using all the stickers they sent me. Especially those big metallic-tinged eagle and flag-shaped ones. Sorry guys. :-(

Another part of today's work was to schedule time for joy and quiet. I suppose I could have used that as my daily walking time, but I chose to spend it working on a colorful rug I'm making. I had almost forgotten how relaxing it was. I cranked up my tunes and got lost inside an entire hour and a half of joy.

I should also let you know that during my daily walk yesterday, I included my bwafréen, and we stopped to take turns swinging each other on swings and watched the last flickers of sunset slip behind a big city building. After, he treated us to brownie bites, hot tea and a giant scoop of vanilla bean ice cream in the neighborhood coffee café. Today I made it out for an invigorating evening stroll once the snow and rain let up. Wind was still high, and it was a much shorter walk, but it felt great just the same.

I also have to add this may be a coincidence, but a dear friend who I hadn't heard from in more than a year emailed me today filling me in on her life and wanted to hear what I was up to. I also got a call to resume work on a stalled theater project that just got funded and will be reinstated early next week. Well, look what the Air blew in, huh?

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*This doctor's so cool. He calls himself a kind of neurological detective. Hence, he investigates. BTW, he's got great bedside manner, passion for his work and rolls his R's delightfully. I think I'd like to incorporate rolled R's into my repertoire when I make it B-I-G. Don't say you haven't been warrrrned.

**You know, of "Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down" fame. Speaking of which, today was both rainy and Monday. Plus it snowed some, too!

***What exactly does 'i.e.' mean exactly? While we're at it, what does 'e.g.' mean? I'm too tired from all of my Clearing to Google it.

Day Five: Clearing the Air . . . Again

2008-04-27T10:57:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't been checking comments on these entries, I'd like to share a trusted friend's response to the mateless sock dream I had way back on Day Two:

"so maybe finding the socks (whose mates you'd triumphantly trashed) signifies that there are other things in your life not worth giving up on, that just need some dusting off and tidying up to reveal themselves fully. . ."

If I don't get another scrap of help from this Soul Coaching odyssey, my friend's insight might have made this whole experience worth it. How easy it is sometimes to trash or neglect things—or people—that don't seem to be a good match for us anymore. But that's a whole 'nother Self Help excursion in itself.

Since we're still in the Air week—the week of Clearing—Denise sent me back through my Stuff to clear out what remained of my earlier material purge. Might I also add that the spirit of Clearing wafted through my apartment yesterday like a giant dust bunny and had me rearranging living room furniture, giving my bathroom a thorough going over and even
picking up an old craft project I started months ago. I have to say Denise's affirmation seems right on the money today: "Fresh, invigorating energy fills my life."

Speaking of money, doggone if this lady isn't going to help me get rich after all. After running through today's Clutter Questionnaire, it shouldn't come as any surprise that the rooms in my home are relatively clear and clutter free. However, I don't have anything good to report about my desk or office organization. Denise is getting all up in my business again asking questions about my bills, computer files and how I spend my money. Before I launch into another unattractive display of emotion, let's cut to the heart of this Issue: here's where my opportunity for growth is.

I know she's/I'm on to something here because of the same attitude I cop whenever she asks me to pull the curtain back on my Stuff and do something with it. Should I be embarrassed at my own tired-ass transparency? Save your comments, this question is solely rhetorical.

Again, Denise offers an affirmation for each symbolic/material blockage we clear, and I'll offer it to you now just because I think she'd want me to. But first, don't forget to do this with a grand show of enthusiasm. Punch the air with lust and vitality while you're at it.* If, for example you're going to be clearing out old bills, receipts and papers in attempts to generate more money flow, try saying this: "I am clearing away blockages, and abundance is flowing into me!"

Not so much?

Even if you think this is hooey—like those three readers I alluded to who I know can use some Self Improvement—suspend your disbelief and try clearing the air for yourself. It's pretty interesting. Look around your place and ask yourself what your belongings say about you. You might find you've got a bad attitude just like me. Might you also be a whingy, sniveling brat? If it's any consolation, you're not alone.

Denise closes this exercise by reminding us to celebrate each small clearing by stopping to "Breathe. Smile! And celebrate every advance that you make." That bit, I know I can do.
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*I'd suggest creating a 'Pre-Trash' file for the Stuff you'll be clearing as it is no fun yanking blockages out of the garbage.

Day Four: More Hot Air

2008-04-26T06:53:00.000-07:00

It's first thing in the morning on Saturday, and before I enter today's exercise, I have to tell you that I did in fact sleep well last night. I had dreams of Improved circulation whooshing through my body where before there had been a big blockage in my calf, which could possibly relate to moving forward in life or taking a stand, maybe. I also dreamed of an ex coming back into my life, wanting to set up house with me. I figured I'd hear him out and wait to see if he was worth ditching my present Partner* for. If we apply Denise's sock metaphor from yesterday, though, my ex was a total mismatch for me. In this dream, he even asked his good friend and real estate broker, played by my favorite ever actor Don Cheadle, to find us a place together. What do you make of that (aside from the total awesomeness of having Don Cheadle guest star in my dream)?

Now I'm off to work on today's exercise, and I'll post it later today. At some point before midnight, I promise.

8:30pm and I did my daily walk beneath the bright Midwestern sky and pondered my Core Beliefs as Denise asked me to. She introduces this exercise by saying that if we've made it this far, we've no doubt been "noticing old stuff/patterns/recurring blockages coming to the surface." Would you look at that! My dream about the energy moving was right in line with that!** Given my whining and squirming for the last 3.5 days on this thing, I'd say noticing the Issues is an understatement—being impaled by them, however, comes closer to my experience thus far.

Because our identities are shaped by early childhood experiences, she says, we often walk around responding to the world from a child's perspective. Remember Pigpen, that Charlie Brown character with the cloud of dirt and debris that went everywhere he did? He probably didn't notice because he was so deep in it, and I think this is what Denise is getting at.

Day Four's exercise is about identity and how we can look at these childhood themes—which, in turn, form our present-day Core Beliefs—and retool them. That sure is a mouthful. Basically we're supposed to make a list of Positive and Negative Core Beliefs and rework our language to change how we're see ourselves and, consequently, how others see us.

Of course Denise lists examples of negative beliefs that can be makeovered with a little conscious effort. I submit here two of my own examples. You can bet I've got a long list of them offline—both good and bad—so, I'll spare you the Heavy Stuff on this blog. Here goes:

Negative If I should ever get tossed inhospitably into the streets by a heartless landlord who cannot see beyond the inconvenience of my temporary, though ill-timed fiscal inertia, I am destined to burn chapters from Self Help books in back alleys to stave off the bitter chill of Life.
Positive I am incredibly resourceful, and I can survive in any situation.

And this:

Negative Big-Time Self Help gurus owe me a reduced-price pass to their Improvement workshops on Maui because I'm nice.
Positive Big-Time Self Help gurus want to give me a reduced-price pass to their Improvement workshops on Maui because I'm nice.

Neat, huh? Try a few Core Belief makeovers of your own. You'll be amazed at how this exercise affects your thinking.

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*Thanks to to your generous and helpful input on what to call the man I'm currently seeing, I will use your terms—Partner, Bwafréen, Significant Other, Person with Whom I Am Having Sex and Occasional Meals—interchangeably as I test them out.

**No, I'm not reading ahead in this book, either. If I had known what was coming, do you think I would have voluntarily put myself up to this? If so Dear Reader, you give me way too much credit.

Day Three: The Clearinghouse

2008-04-25T09:01:00.000-07:00

Two hours to go, and I am finishing this entry in time to say I completed today's task before midnight. Today's task: clearing clutter. Put another way, I had to clean my room. Waaaah!* Not my favorite thing. As I was working from home today, I spent the better part of the afternoon checking to see who else was doing this book with me. I called. I emailed. I paced. Hellloo-oo! Am I alone here? Are you telling me in this world of billions I'm the only one looking to Improve?

Whose cockamamie idea was this anyway?

I started by relocating items from the stack of miscellany on my dresser. I put my lipgloss back in the bathroom drawer, my water glass back in the kitchen sink and so on. In so doing, I walked past my list of Values that lay prioritized on the table from yesterday's exercise. Naturally, I had to re-evaluate them to make sure I was in alignment.

Denise says clearing outer clutter has a direct effect on mental/inner clutter, too. Upon first glance, my floors and furniture needed a good sweep and general spiffing up. I've got a few dust bunnies blowing through the apartment that I'm not especially proud of. Up til now, we've had a sort of live-and-let live arrangement. On a deeper level, though, this metaphor of 'blowing the dust off' might apply to my mental and spiritual clearing, mightn't it? This stuff is beginning to click.

Did I mention I'm not crazy about sweeping? I'd rather wash dishes or iron sheets. But being a Level 3 participant on this 28-day quest, I jumped in and pulled out everything that wasn't working for me anymore. Among my discards, which went straight to the neighborhood thrift store:
• One beige machine-washed (and dried) wool sweater that should have been dry cleaned;
• A dark-colored, short-sleeved wool dress that could never make up its mind if it was a lightweight winter frock or a heavy-ish spring thing. On top of which, the diagonal stripes made me look knock-kneed;
• An insufficiently padded computer bag;
• Five mateless socks;
• An abandoned pair of hot pink shoe strings;
• One buttonless button-up blouse.

Once I got into the spirit of the exercise, I was so impressive. At Denise's suggestion, I loudly affirmed with each item I chucked, "I am clearing all that I do not need Out! Of! My! Life!" I punched the air like she told me to, swept the floor, lit a candle and created new affirmations with each single sock I tossed in the garbage.

Denise opens this exercise with the story of a woman who had amassed dozens of single socks over the years. It just so happened this woman was also looking for a serious relationship. Long story short, she connected the single socks to her (single) relationship status. And—wouldn't you know it?—when she met the man of her dreams, he was a perfect "match."

Not one to let me off the hook so easily, Denise insisted I clean every inch of the bedroom. I swept under the bed and removed everything that had gathered there in recent months. Mounds of dust, debris and random crap in trash bin later, what do I discover for all my clutter-clearing frenzy but four of the five mates to those single socks I tossed so defiantly a few hours prior? Digging them back out of the garbage was not so impressive. And, no, I didn't perform any kind of "affirmation undo" like punching myself instead of the air to accompany that humbling reclamation. Still, I wonder what the poignant juxtaposition of sock-as-garbage versus sock-swept-under-the-bed-and-reunited-with-garbage-sock suggests about my own relationship. Should I be worried?

Today's exercise, just like all the others thus far, has been more of a kick in the ass than I expected. Whew! But, it's 11:30pm, and I've got success on my side. I carried the task to completion, cleared my space, contributed to the neighborhood thrift store, made my bed, and damn if I'm not going to sleep well in it tonight.

Daily Walk Update: Just so you know, I took myself on my daily walk this afternoon (to take a break from cleaning my room!) and made it to the corner before a rain shower sent me back indoors. Ever resilient, I went for a run with a friend later in the evening.

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*If my Authentic Self is anything like the whingy, sniveling brat I've begun to resemble since starting this thing, I'm not sure I'll like Her all that much.

Day Two: Word is Bond

2008-04-24T10:34:00.000-07:00

As this is our Air week—a week of commitments, reckoning and clearing—Denise challenges us to commit to one area of change by doing one thing each day toward that end. I'm squeamish at the thought of it. I'm many things, yet I don't like thinking of myself as noncommittal. Still, I'm up to the challenge so, bring it on (again)!*

Remember yesterday when Denise asked if I was living in alignment with my Values and I said that while I might not like my job, I do however, value paying my bills? Well, here again on Day Two she delves more deeply into this question by asking that I arrange my Values in a way that feels right for me. For example, if I say Having a Family is one of my Values (or is that a Goal?), then shouldn't I be encouraging my Partner/Person With Whom I Am Having Sex And Occasional Meals/Significant Other** to put a ring on my finger? This Values exercise is a hairy one that I'll be doing off-line, but I can tell you now I already feel some Resistance coming up regarding work, play, bills, art, love, babies and how they rate in my world. Picture me now with a spiritual finger up my ass, clueless.

Since I'm on the subject, I have to share my own personal bias here. Though I've already done this yesterday—and the days before—I'm coming at it from a different angle today, and as a result, I think I'm able to make more sense of it. Here's my beef: I have a problem getting my mind around this idea that I can have it all. How's that? Are you weeping for me again? Okay, let's take a moment.

No, really. I sometimes joke with another wildly creative friend about the challenges of being Artists.*** We say if we're ever tossed out of our homes and into the mean and unforgiving streets, clad in tattered performance clothes trimmed in sequins, huddling over a flaming trash bin for warmth, we can always use the pages of our Self Help books for kindling. Imagine that: "Hey, hand me a chapter from 'Unlimited Power' by Tony Robbins, would ya? The flames are a'gettin low."****

No, again, really. My Resistance to Denise asking me to lay out my values—and to prioritize them!—has taken me aback. Maybe because I am articulating it here (for, what, the third time?). On the one hand, I'm thinking, 'Denise, later for your flowery stuff about alignment and positive thinking. I need a real gainful Situation full of challenge, regonition and great pay. I got an education, and I need some Real, Workable leads, lady. Gimme something I can chew on.' I can honestly say there's more than a flicker of annoyance on my part for people who say, 'Money doesn't matter' or 'Do what you love, and the money will follow' or 'Follow your bliss' blah, blah, blah. Those are the very same people who live on Maui and hold spiritual workshops there and don't offer people discounts to get to 'em.

See how that works? This lady has merely asked me to dig through my Stuff and lay it out plain where I can see it, and I'm already fit to be tied. Ah, but here's my clue. That roiling boil just beneath my collar of righteous indignation suggests I'm due to make a major breakthrough in this area. And, man, is it gonna be juicy!

For the record, rich people haven't ever done anything to me personally, and if you can read at all, you know I got no gripes with the thought of being one of them one day. You may recall my intention to feign an inability to return emails or calls and to speak with an indistinguishable accent as well as myriad affectations when I hit it big. I mean B-I-G.

Until such time, however, I have to come to grips with my some of my Stuff. And I'm seeing that the reluctance to let go of the Known (my have-not attitude) in favor of the Unknown (a high havingness attitude) is the tricky bit. A great American diplomat once spoke of the threat of Known Knowns and Unknowns versus the more menacing Unknown Knowns and Unknowns. He was on to something.

Denise, if you're reading, I take my hat off to you because you've clearly got me thinking. From here on in—for the next 27 days at least—I'm going to commit to doing one thing per day toward authentic Self Improvement. And because we're focusing so much on clearing the air and moving energy around, I'm promising here and now to take a leisurely walk each day. That's something I don't currently do, and I'm a believer that consistently getting into the outdoors has positive effects on my creative process. So be it!

I'm off to prioritize my Values (and take a walk). But before I go, let me leave you with a quote from Denise who sounds like she's ripped a line from my as-yet unpublished book:
"When you are committed to your soul's path, you learn to say 'no' in loving ways to others so that you can say 'yes' to yourself. This is because you cannot truly help others until you help yourself."

Alright, I might not have said the first line so eloquently, but I'm crediting myself for the spirit of that last part of her statement—and I paraphrase—"Honey Help YourSelf!"

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*I can see right now I'm gonna be getting pretty damn tired of all the rallying cries to step up to the ongoing (oncoming?) challenge Self Improvement. This is not easy work!

**These are the suggestions I received when I solicited your input on how to refer to my guy. You may recall my reservations about being in my thirties and calling my fella a boyfriend. Not cute. At all.

***It shouldn't come as any surprise to learn that I am a Creative Writer, Teacher, Singer, Rug Maker, Graphic Designer and Performer of sorts.

****As a Writer, I would never condone book burning. Then again, I value warmth. May I never be faced with such a decision.

Day One: Clearing the Air

2008-04-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

Hello again, and welcome back to our continued journey inward.

Yesterday I left out a couple of Denise's early instructions. And, while I won't bore you with every single detail of this process, it deserves a mention that she asks us to create a sacred space or altar for quiet reflection or as a reminder of what matters. Looking around my apartment, the space that naturally lends itself to this purpose is the mantle over my living room's bricked-in fireplace. I've got a number of books, photos and trinkets there already, and among those photos is a framed shot taken by a friend during a visit to Puerto Rico. She was touring an historic building and former seaside prison that had been opened to the public. What strikes me each time see that picture is its focus. Shot from behind bars and looking out toward the expansive sky and shimmering, sun-drenched water always triggers different responses depending on what day you catch me.

Sometimes it seems as though I'm trapped behind those old bars looking out at a sun and sea beyond my reach. Sometimes the prison bars remind me of the flesh-and-bone captivity of a soul that might one day soar. Other days, the bars recede into clear water and sky. Apparently I spend lots of time thinking about this picture and its impression on me. Which brings me back to Day One.

Denise says once we decide to make big life changes, the forces of the Universe conspire on our behalf.* And sure enough, I was on the phone with a friend earlier today talking about this blog, and I had to admit to him that even though I might not be financially flush, I am by no means as much of a mess as I might seem. Again, depends on your perspective. I realize I may sound like the lush who thinks she's profound when, in fact, she's actually slobbering and drunk dialing a messy list of exes.

The Exercise: Not only am I being asked to make an Assessment of my Life, the author also gives me a Y/N checklist to sure up my answers as they pertain to my Home, Work, Social and Private landscapes. Well, damn, Denise! You sure don't pull any punches here, do you?

After making my own lists and answering her lengthy questionnaire, does it come as any surprise that my Work segment was a repetitive line of "No?" I also had some negative responses to the Kitchen questions, which kind of surprised me, given how much I love to eat. No wonder I'm always trying to score invitations to other people's homes for meals. And if I've ever invited myself to your place for brunch, breakfast, linner, dunch, supper, dessert or any variation on those themes, you know how I feel about grocery shopping and cooking for one. What's that I hear whooshing across cyberspace just now? Are those tears of sympathy for me, dear reader?

Here's another interesting question Denise puts to us, and it bears repeating for those of you who didn't/don't/can't/won't get the book. You might be surprised by your response:**
"If my home were an exterior representation of aspects of me and my life, what would it say about me?"

I'm keeping a separate journal for the bulk of these exercises, and I have to say I'm inspired at the vigorous self-exploration I've been engaging in so far. Not to beat a dead horse, but after all of the pointed questions, I'm as I described myself earlier: generally happy, wildly creative, funloving and relatively broke. Needless to say, this last point is largely responsible for pointing me to "Soul Coaching" in the first place. Still, Questions like, "Is my life consistent or in alignment with my values?" really screw with me because I'm like, 'Well, Denise, I don't necessarily love my job, but I certainly value paying my bills.' How aligned does that make me? Am I a miserable manifester because I carry debt and work below my earning potential (providing I haven't already hit my peak twenty years ago)? Stay tuned because I'm (we're) bound to find out.

For the next 27 days, instead spiraling out in the direction of my own conclusions, I'm going to do as Denise says; "Breathe deeply, take a risk, and vigorously plunge ahead. This is the moment for a breakthrough."

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*Or is that behalves?

** Don't tell Denise I'm lifting words from her book. I haven't asked permission, and you know I'm currently in no position to pay her for doing so.

Day One Half: The Intention

2008-04-22T13:43:00.000-07:00

My bad again, people. I said today is Day One, and I meant it. But it's not the Day One of the exercises because I'm using this day to establish my intention before actually embarking on the work itself. That's part of the deal Denise asks of her readers at the start. So, we're on track; we're just easing toward the 'real' Day One, which comes tomorrow.

After reading the preface to Soul Coaching, I came away from it rather impressed with Denise's idea that we don't have to wait for everything in our lives to be perfect before taking action. Of course, anyone who knows me knows I already have lots of familiarity with this concept, but when it's re-phrased in a way that seems more spiritual and profound than the flat-footed way I tend to express it, I'm doubly into it.

And before going any further in this experiment, please know I'm not getting paid by the author—or anybody for that matter—to do this blog. I simply happen to be, as I said before, actively broke and seeking. Never mind that I call the author by her first name. I've never met her. In fact, she's one of the authors I wrote to requesting discounted spirituality workshops from, but her people never got back to me.

Now, if it should happen that my emergent Authentic Self shows me how to get rich by the end of these 28 days, rest assured I shall also be too busy to return your emails and calls directly. That's because I'm almost certain I will have stumbled into The Secret of finally getting my own book revised and published, up on its feet and in the hands of well-heeled readers everywhere.

Here's another thing you can expect from me when I strike it big: a new accent that's hard to place and myriad affectations like tucking stray hair behind one ear and gazing intently just above your head to indicate my depth of sincerity, intellect and emotion. But what does an acquired accent and tucking hair behind the ears have to do with making money, you ask? I don't know, but financial freedom gives you options, and these are a few options I'm opting for, so kindly let me have them.

Okay, back to Day One Half. Denise set up the exercises according to the elements of Air, Water, Fire and Earth because of their close connection to matters of Spirit as she sees them. She also encourages us to do what we can on any given day without stressing the parts we can't get to. If you're doing the book with me, you know what I mean when I say I'm choosing the "Playing Full Out!" Level 3 approach to Self discovery. Watch me work!

I started crafting my intention, and I'm glad she starts off with this exercise because I'm being asked to think about what I expect to gain by my 28th day. And given the way the author talks about blocks to realizing dreams and moving toward growth, I'm choosing to identify as my intention the removal of blocks toward personal success in whatever form they exist for me. It's funny that fear of success is an actual Issue, but it's surprisingly real. Let's break this down a little: While I'm not afraid of the student loan people per se, I might be a little afraid of that 800 number when it comes up on my caller ID. I'm not so derelict with my bills that I'm hiding from creditors, but what if they were calling to tell me there was a glitch in the system, and I only had 72 hours to call and receive a giant rebate of some sort? My 'fear' of the phone number alone would have kept me from successfully getting a giant rebate and thereby opening up my financial options a little, right?

How about this: What if there's a really great guy I just met, and I don't go say hello to him out of fear? We've all been there, so don't act like you don't know what I mean! If I don't speak to him, I've lost out on a potentially life-affirming connection, haven't experienced any relationship growth and I've kept myself stuck in the shallow end of the dating pool yet again, right?* Letting go of the known—even if it's limiting—in pursuit of the unknown is no small feat, so that's what I'm choosing as my intention today: removing blocks to personal success. How do ya like me now?

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*It has come to my attention that I identified myself as single in my profile, but in yesterday's entry, I mentioned my boyfriend.** I should clarify. While I am involved with a wonderful man, as my mother would say, 'I don't see no ring on this finger.' Enough said.

**What other names can be used to describe someone you're romantically involved with? "Lover" seems so 80s to me, and because I'm looking squarely at forty, the term 'boyfriend' hardly feels right either. Any suggestions?

Flipping the Script

2008-04-21T08:38:00.000-07:00

Hi, and welcome to my latest attempt to self-actualize.

After lots of WTF'ing*, scratching my head and polling friends who seemed to share my general existential confusion and fiscal inertia—by which I mean being reasonably well-educated and very well broke—I created Honey, Help YourSelf!

I like to think I'm more or less resilient and forward thinking in my approach to life. But I saw a picture taken on a recent working vacation, and I have to say it shook me to my core. Which apparently doesn't run all that deep since the photo was snapped little more than a week ago. There I was smiling widely beneath a bright flowering tree whose name escapes me. I was positively beaming in my sun hat and sleeveless dress, all shits and giggles at having escaped the endless assault of Midwestern cold. It was a pretty picture, I assure you. And aside from snipping off three toes in the foreground of the frame, my boyfriend was a good shot that day. He got my good side. He also got my stomach.

Don't get me wrong; I love my body and its amazing ability to take me places and do so much while I occupy myself with recurrent quality-of-life capital "Q" Questions. And the fact that my indulgence in the sweetness of life while on vacation showed up in the form of a generously expanded waistline that rivaled an early trimester of pregnancy all but floored me. Like the proverbial mack truck, I'd been blind-sided by the weight of the photograph. So began another round of Questioning.

To save us all some time, suffice it to say that although I wasn't pregnant, I was dumbstruck at the thought of it. Because, truth be told, no matter how much lip service I gave to the concept of eventually being pregnant one day, I was nowhere near ready for its emotional or financial rigors. And, as someone who hears her biological gong gonging more loudly each day, that fact came as quite a drag.

Ever since returning to graduate school in my early thirties, I had racked up more debt and disillusionment than ever, and doing the math one lazy afternoon only added an hysterical insult to my already bruised sense of self. With student loans, rent, credit cards, groceries, utilities, health care, toiletries, general upkeep, modest entertainment and car maintenance costs, I realized I made more 'free' money in high school than I probably ever would in the foreseeable future. I might never be able to pull down that kind of no-overhead loot again. Don't you judge me when I tell you the sight of my vacation picture coupled with the not-so-flattering image of myself having passed my highest earning potential nearly twenty years ago was enough to keep me in bed for two days.

But all things must pass, and in this case, it was my funk that finally lifted. Still, I was left with the capital "I" Issue of how to turn my so-so situation around in order to start experiencing some positive changes. Like I said in my profile, I'm no slouch. Socially speaking, that is. I tend to keep up on current topics, and among those topics is the sweeping trend of self-improvement, transformation, actualization and all the other fuzzy buzzwords that make for a better individual. That's how Honey, Help YourSelf! was born.

Since I'm looking to make big personal changes in the way of self-improvement and overall increased fulfillment and happiness, I figured I'd use this blog to do just that. I know more than a few people in the same boat as I, and I also know the manifestation business is positively booming right now. So, I thought, why not do a life-change/makeover/manifestation type of blog for thirty days or so, and see just how this thing works? At worst, positive thinking is just that, thinking. But, if thoughts really are things, and all I need to do is shift the focus of my thinking to the sunny side of the street, then let's get busy!

And another thing: I'm tired of rich people coming out with books and talk shows talking about how beat-up and down-and-out they were a hundred years ago and how these days they buy new cars every other year and don't carry debt because debt is for the weak-minded suckers among us. Whatever.

I recently wrote to one of those rich self-help people asking her for a reduced rate or installment plan—kind of a self-improvement layaway, now that I think about it—to take one of her workshops, and her people replied saying they don't offer any 'breaks' because it's up to us (me!) to take advantage of the Universe, the entirety of which is at our (my!) disposal. I was pissed. Ooh, you don't want to hear how upset I was at what sounded like big-time 'enlightened' elitist b.s. to me. I figured I was taking advantage of the Universe by going straight to the source to ask for what I wanted. Now how about that?

Fine, then. I'm not mad anymore, people. But I am curious to see how this business works for someone like me who is actively broke and seeking. This is going to be interesting!

Anyway. I went to the bookstore and picked up Denise Linn's "Soul Coaching," which promises to help me discover my Authentic Self in 28 days—28!—through a series of exercises, which involve lots of soul searching and, well, we'll just see, won't we?

Now that I'm looking over the book jacket again, I see Denise hasn't promised to make me rich. Er, my bad, I guess. But, let's see what we uncover in the coming weeks just the same. Maybe my Authentic Self can point me in the direction of more money, more personal fulfillment and all around good stuff.

I personally invite you to do the book with me and tell me what you think as you meet your own Authentic Self. Tomorrow starts Day One, so get your copy if you dare. Besides, I personally know at least three of you readers right now who could stand some improvement. I'm not naming names, but am I right, or am I right?

I'm just saying.

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* WTF means What the Fuck. I've got a potty mouth, it's true.