Friday, February 08, 2008

recipe

Mining the moment for something that feels good, something to appreciate, something to savor, something to take in, that's what your moments are about.

They're not about justifying your existence.
It's justified. You exist.

It's not about proving your worthiness.
It's done. You're worthy.

It's not about achieving success.
You never get it done.

It's about "How much can this moment deliver to me?" And some of you like them fast, some of you like them slow.

No one's taking score.

You get to choose.

The only measurement is between my desire and my allowing. And your emotions tell you everything about that.

-- Abraham

************

This is a recipe worth passing down from generation to generation. I can picture the cookbook it resides in, spattered with flour and oil, perhaps a singe mark or two from the coils on the stovetop, well worn pages and cracked spine.

All the indications of active usage and participation.

Feb 8, 2008 7:20:55 AM | ear candy

The comments to this entry are closed.

NEXT POST
limiting beliefs Crappy exposure, but I don't want to wait til the morning light to post this. About a year ago I put this note up at work and at home. When I caught myself thinking a thought that didn't serve me, I had this in my line of sight and could help myself refocus. Inside the binder are notes I've received since becoming an online presence, notes of appreciation and testimony to all that I bring to people, just by being who I am. It made a difference. So do you.
PREVIOUS POST
How to Start Over 1. resist the temptation to wipe the slate clean entirely. you cannot do this. you are where you are. but you can dust. you can mop. you can cleanse your belly of all the heavy cheeses you ate at last month's holiday parties. you can initiate the day with decaf. you can rake four batches of leaves from the lawn. you can sing, loudly, in the car to no one but the man on the radio who is singing with you. you can decide that the apple pie you are craving will not come from your hands, your oven, your kitchen, but from the bakery aisle at your neighborhood grocery. 2. ignore the titles from the self-help shelves and glossy women's magazines, with their sound bytes of colorful insight. you do not need a makeover, a diet, a religious conversion. you do not need to get more in touch with your feelings. you do not need potassium, or St. John's Wort, or a colonic. you need a walk, communion with shore birds, a rainstorm, a glass of wine in front of a fire, lip gloss, a whole evening of the novel you read only incrementally, at night, before bed. 3. ignore the calendar, the clock, the larger itineraries ticking their niggling bits of time. you will sleep when you need to. you will know when it is time for water, for a shower, for a phone call, for a kiss, for solitude, for Indian food, whatever nourishment you need for your throat, your ears, the palms of your hands, the hunger just under your skin. 4. imagine, despite your unbearable faults and fissures, you are still a thing of beauty, a rare creature, a snowflake, a singular, spectacular atom circumnavigating the tangled astronomy of your life the only way you...

Deb Schanilec

Connected and Committed relationship transformation strategist.

The Typepad Team

Search

My Other Accounts

Recent Comments