You know how I truly discovered karma, past lives and all that jazz? It was painful. It lasted 3 days last January or February. It included me having seizures — and it is the subject of one of the books I’m writing this year.
When I least expected it… as I was walking into a client call — something in my brain snapped. I’ll spare the details for my own book. But, I will tell you that for three days my mind traveled to 15th century Italy, and I saw things and people who I apparently knew. I swam through centuries and experiences in what felt like both an instant ans a million years. When I came out of it, I’d gained a truck load of understanding about the twists and turns my life has taken.
I also was able to research the information that was given to me, as my hubby dutifully took notes while I suffered (good man he is). All the info I could research has been validated. Some will require more research. It was the most painful and amazing thing that ever happened to me, and has certainly put a cherry on top of my “death is dumb and doesn’t really exist” cake.
I bought “Karmic Healing” at the Bodhi Tree bookstore cuz my FB friend, Jamie Flannigan told me to go there. Loved that place. If you’re in LA — visit there.
“Karmic Healing” is a journey through case studies and exercises that reveal how peeps got over their karmic blocks. Some are past life related. Some are current life related. And, some are just related to the need to know ourselves better. So it’s helpful on all levels, and also speaks to the importance of following up with meditations or some other form of healing in order to keep blocks gone once they are cleared. So, that patterns don’t come back to bite us in the bums.
I can never read enough spiritual growth books. They help me slow down. I’m using this book to safely go back to those places I went to last year, and find out more. But, only when the need for current life growth arises. So, every day.
4 years ago, after an experience with a ghost in a hotel room — my friend Christina sent me to her psychic. I’d never been to a psychic before. I’d simply played one in my pretend life. The woman did a phone consult with me from Hawaii, and was so eager to talk to me that she didn’t charge me. Nor did she offer me any psychic visions about my future. Instead, she told me to hone my skills, and learn to do what she does because she saw that in my path. Well, here I am.
But, another thing she taught me, was to go to the bookstore or library and study study study. In fact, she said that I should go with the intention to find the “right” book and wait for it to call to me. I’m stoked that I have committed to doing just that this year. I’m getting so much out of each word. YUM.
“The Book of Shamanic Healing” called me. Much like how the “Body Ecology Diet” book called me the first time I read it. The Shamanic book is one that I will go back to for reference over and over.
It’s a simplistic beginner’s guide to what Shamanism is and how you can practice it for healing. So, it’s things that everyday peeps can incorporate in their meditation or personal healing practice.
She teaches tons of different exercises too. So, I double liked this — because I like to work through things with physical or journal exercises.
In fact, this book even got me singing. Yup – success in the voice dept. Throat chakra cleared for business.
Any energy healer would benefit from using this book as a reference.
I began to study Shamanism when Dougie and I were sick, and I was losing my Papa Joe to a degenerative form of dementia. My Shamanism classes really taught me how to deal with death and dying. So, for anyone facing illness or death of a loved one—you may dig this too.
3 sentences into this book and I shouted to my hubby in the next room– “okay, I’m not disappointed.” My son looked at the cover and said — “Look Mom –it’s you!” I thought the woman featured on the cover kinda looked like a guy. But, Dougie assured me that she was me. It’s no wonder that after 180 pages, I fell asleep with my ear crunched into the book and dreamt of a time when my son was my nephew — and I struggled to get him to remember me as his mother.
“The Red Tent” is the story of Dinah — sister of Joseph (as in Joseph and the Amazing technicolor Dreamcoat, Joseph). It’s biblical fiction in all its flowery language and detail.
Before reading it, I had my own preconceived notions of men with multiple wives, arranged marriages, dowrys, and oppression of the female. Fiction or not — being able to see a female perspective of old testament days was pretty fascinating.
She’s a slow writer, like I am a slow eater — making sure every word is just perfect before spilling the beans. Every word is so beautiful, but there’s not a lot of action happening. I got a little bored but only a little. It’s hard for me to read fiction because I want so much from it. I want crazy words to pop out of the air. I want risks and twists and magic. I want stuff to happen in fiction that you wouldn’t so much want to happen or believe could happen in real life.
I thought about how difficult it is to edit my own chapters when I love the words, but they simply don’t move the story forward. Still this book feels like a giant glossy love letter, and if you are a romantic — you will love it. If it were to be edited to satisfy my tastes, it would completely disrupt the flow that fits so perfectly with the era she is writing about.
Perhaps now, I will value the whole “slowing down” thing in my own work, and see where that takes me.
I can’t spoil endings or too much detail, but I will tell you that the red tent is where the women hang. They go there to rest on moon days, to take care of the sick and nurse babies. This is where the women tell secrets and share their stories. Amongst 4 wives, 1 husband and 12 sons– there was only 1 daughter, and she is Dinah — and so Dinah carries the memories of her mother (Leah) and her “mother aunties” (her mother’s sisters and the other wives of Jacob, who was also their cousin).
There is some excitement. You do get to hear Dinah’s version of what happened to her brother Joseph. And more. But, I won’t spoil it.
Found this one at the local thrift and remembered how popular it was when it came out. As an entrepreneur and life coach, I NEED to keep educated on money matters.
I Loooooved about 97 pages of this book, then, for me it got dull. In the beginning, Kiyosaki introduced me to a new way of looking at cash flow — with words instead of numbers. Wow that was helpful! And the lesson to “buy only assets, not liabilities” was an eye opener. He explains how lots of us, especially those who don’t quite strike it rich –buy liabilities like cars and houses. I have neither (by choice), so I figure I’m on the road to millions.
When the book was good, I learned a lot, and that is important. If this book was written today (not in 1997), it may have included some info about how our thoughts create our world. After all, he does say that it is our view of money and its power that creates our relationship with it. It’s all about attitude, isn’t it? He hints at this throughout.
He then spends lots of time teaching about what we can invest in and how to know if it’s right for you. Investments like stocks, bonds and real estate seem to be big for him personally. But, he says you gotta love what you invest in.
It’s kinda funny to me, because I actually think its a whole lot easier to get rich than what he explains. I think old systems are changing because they no longer work, and the door is open for a new kind of bazillionaire.
That said — there are still plenty of peeps making it work by owning huge corporations like McDonalds, who are using their money to literally kill their people and their planet with GMO foods, toxic chemicals and such — but, the very foundation that these systems are built on is shaking. Maybe in 1997 it was still honorable to be the owner of McDonalds, and own a monopoly on the world’s supply of potatoes apples and beef. I don’t know. I was in High School then and sharing a 2 cheeseburger meal with my friends after school with the money I made working.
Sales are huge. These people can sell anybody on anything. But, you too can sell your ideas.
If we take that mental leap, and say “I am rich” that does wonders! I believe in making my money work for me, and even if I only have $100, you best believe that that $100 will be making me $200 or more. The rich dad attitude would agree with that too.
Today, there are tons of people who are just waking up out of an unconscious state of being and have inherited debt and poor money management from that time in their lives. (Um. like me).
So how do you catch up, get rich and change your relationsship with money?
here are my simple rules:
Think rich with an attitude of gratitude (not only is it already yours, but you are grateful for it)
Scrap every liability you can (for my hubby and me — this even meant cell phones)
Create a spiritual connection with money: money is simply energy and you need it to fulfill your purpose, right? Know that the universe knows this, and you will be taken care of. (this will happen most successfully when you are in alignment with the youest you)
Make your money work for you (are u an entrepreneur? can you use your home for an office? Can you teach classes about your profession at home)
Take the risk of unlearning what you used to think about money… get coaching or team up with people who know what they are doing and succeeding in today’s world
It’s late, and I had a wee bit too much durian tonight — so I’ll try to make this quick.
I got WOWED.
I broke my fiction fast with “The House on Mango Street” because it was one of those gleaming golden nuggets that survived my book purge today. I brought it from Chicago. Somehow stole it from an old roomie. Thanks, Tina!
When I was 8 or ten my fave books were tied between those “Choose Your own Adventure” novels and the Harlequin Romances that my neighbor Kathy would let me borrow. I thought I was cool reading about kissing and men with “Roman Noses.”
Between the ages of 8 and 12 I read one book — “A Wrinkle in Time” — which is still one that I buy for everyone I know, with the hopes that they will enjoy even an ounce of what that book did for me.
As a teen, reading became uncool for me. So did getting good grades and wearing jeans. I didn’t read an entire book all the way through until I was 17 and in Mrs Galvin’s AP English class. And, that book was “The House on Mango Street.”
The first time, I gobbled it up by the time my bus from the Harold Washington Library reached my stop at 63rd and Nashville. I was officially a reader again. And, finally the stuff I’d been writing made sense. So, I wrote a very passionate letter to Sandra Cisneros. Yeah, she totally didn’t reply.
Today, I didn’t begin reading until at least 8pm. It was tough to decide which book would float my boat today. After not being wowed for 3 days in a row, I was afraid to commit.
The library swears I owe 48 bucks for some ludicrous fees for not bringing back movies???? I promise I will take care of that. I didn’t make it to the bookstore because Dougie was too hungry ( go figure).
So, back to my shelf — I had to choose from “James and the Giant Peach,” “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe” and “Mango Street.” I let my gut decide.
Every word rolls like butter from the page, and I read the first three chapters (vignettes) out loud to Dougie — who dug it til he fell asleep.
When you write in short short stories like she does — every word counts. And, when you read this book, you will want to hold onto every word. As a writer, I am re-inspired. This book is juicy and chunky with imagery and emotion.
It’s not easy to write so short. I mean, see here I thought I was going to keep THIS short. You gotta know what to cut and what will pull at folks’ heart strings. But, this book — this book feels like you are sitting there listening to a little girl dream and dream, and all you want to do is jump rope with her.
I’m from Chicago — where “Mango Street” is set. Reading it brought me back to the “block” with our jump-rope marathons, “ghosts in the graveyard”, curfew.. the Catholics and the Publics. My story. Not Esperanza’s (the main character). It was like I was seeing hers and mine intertwine.
She grew up poor and mentions that a lot. Me — we never thought we were poor. In fact, most of my friends thought we were rich. But, it was our attitudes that made us rich. Our house was where all the kids could come after school for a snack.
But, I know there were weeks and weeks where we ate chicken and chicken and chicken that my grandma sent from the bulk store to help us out. And rice patties. My mother made things so simple. So delicious. And never once did we feel like we were hurting.
I remember a guy on our block. I think his name was Rico.. if you lived on my block…. please help here. Rico would climb on his roof and howl at the moon every night. Sometimes he’d blow off fireworks. Then, one day the kids on the block said he died from falling off the roof into a tree or a pool. Is this true? Anyone? I don’t know.
But, the best stories come from times like that. From the blocks and neighborhoods inside bigger places where kids make their own worlds, and little girls can dream about making it big as a writer and coming back to get all those beautiful souls who could not leave as easily as her. Like Esperanza. And me.