Her eyes observed those things surrounding her: yesterday’s designs and coagulated thought-forms bordered by limitation of the past. She didn’t believe her eyes. Instead, she turned her focus inward, to the place of creativity and boundless inspiration. This is where something was waiting to emerge. She would raise her intention to allow it to manifest through her.
Posts Tagged ‘Vignette’
Julia closed her eyes and let the midday sun fall on her face as she took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and then let it go. How did she end up here? The conformity was killing her. She might look like just another orange chair in a room of orange chairs, but she knew, as certain as she had four silver legs, that she was meant for bigger things.
When a ball flew through William, shattering his core, he took a moment. When he was ready, he asked himself, “What good will come of this? What grace note is trying to be played here?”
Lydia had inherited set-points in trust, beauty, creativity, compassion and all those things humans are capable of. They were passed on to her in her DNA. Her early life experiences, and the ones she had afterwards, had calcified these set points so that the coagulation of the past manifested itself into her present, not unlike a giant scar. She was held hostage by her fate, her wings pinned back, allowing her to fit in the cage of her low expectations.
One day, she woke up to her own power. She realized she could shape her destiny by re-calibrating her set-points currently fixed at mediocrity. Thus far, she had only given herself permission to move through the world with conventional dullness. But when she understood she was infused with the divine, well, her potential was limitless.
Lydia began to reexamine her set-points. She considered the ways they held her back. She envisioned one area in her life in particular that she wanted to change, and began with the set-point that held her back in that area: trust. She began thinking, acting, moving, living, breathing and believing in such a manner that every cell that constituted Lydia behaved as if it held more trust in the world. She could feel her set-point of trust re-calibrating as she managed her destiny. The road would graciously rise up to meet her feet as she moved through a new world.
Destiny or Fate, Your Choice, or Not. The message begins at 43:33
Sheena put in her two weeks notice. Now was the perfect time to practice the Law of Circulation. How could she ever hope to receive if her right fist was closed to giving? Energy travels along a two lane highway. Her left hand already knew this and hence was twice as big as her closed right hand which operated from a mindset of fear and scarcity.
When Forest pointed a finger at someone, he had two phantom digits pointing back to himself.
In other news, I said goodbye to Marly last night and am in San Diego, working from my mom’s place. She’s fixing me salad, borscht, and all kinds of fruits and veggies that go through her Vitamix and get passed to me in tall glass packed with nutrition. This is the life!
Ned spent every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon in front of Soda P conducting spiritual warfare. He was especially skilled at casting out demons from the girls with orange skin and impossibly short-shorts. He recognized the battle storming within the shaggies and the hipsters and the gays who had no idea that they too were possessed by controlling and malevolent spirits. Los Angeles was Satan’s playground and Venice Beach, the epicenter. The rapture was right around the corner and he had so many souls to save.
Monday morning came too early for Beto. Bananas felt especially heavy on Mondays.
They worked for each other’s competition. They were rivals. Yet, they stood across the street from one another and were in each other’s view the entire day. She averted her eyes. He tried not to stare. But there was a strong connection before the two. The chemistry was almost painful. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and her thoughts began to take corporeal forms. He believed she was everything he dreamed about in a woman, at least physically. The forbidden fruit aspect made the scenes in his head all the more delicious.
Martha was always working it, positionally voguing in the window to model her outfit. She took her job seriously and gave 110% percent. Afterall, didn’t her efforts reveal to others the kind of person she was? Wasn’t career a character statement webbed with integrity and self definition? And if she wasn’t a professional, who would take her seriously?
Meanwhile, Mary relaxed. She was carefree and always looked great in the clothes. Martha envied Mary’s sense of ease and how her radiant personality buoyed her through every window change. Why was it that she, Martha, had to work so hard and Mary made it seem effortless? Martha came to believe she hated Mary and avoided eye contact with her. Mary was everything that Martha despised, but secretly wished she was more of.
For her part, Mary wondered why Martha was always so uptight. It didn’t make any sense. I mean… they were just dressing up in the windows. It wasn’t who they really were.
Quiero quiero quiero…. Dorothy wanted it all. The pink flower print. The Timothy Leary Paisley. The Eva Longoria Orange. The Charlize Theron Blue. Her weakness: fabric. Buttons, zippers, and thread too. She could live in the Yardage Store. As soon as she went in there, her eyes glazed over, it felt like Christmas, and birds sang from the corners. She had to buy mounds of many things.
She wanted almost everything she saw as she floated around fabric stands, feeling the weight and texture of the material in her hands, putting the silks up to her face. She spent hours spinning the buttons hanging from the circular display wheel, enchanted. She loved opening the zipper drawers and running her finger down their spines. She buried her head in the pattern books and inhaled as she leafed through the pages. It was her favorite smell.
If only she could afford it all. She had already cut off her index finger to take care of one Yardage Store debt. She was debating hacking off her right hand now for meters of the summer line. But how would she sew. Prostethics?
Game of Thrones ended on a cliff hanger last episode! Maddy couldn’t wait until next Sunday to see what happened in the tent with Daenerys.. would her baby be born a dragon? In the meantime, she had others to tide her over… The Killing, The Daily Show, The Kardashians, In Plain Sight, White Collar Brawler, and So You Think You Can Dance. Plus, there were Dog Whisperer reruns. Oh, and True Blood would be starting up again the end of the month. Yay! She wished Project Runway, Damages, Mad Men, Entourage, and Californication would come back. Where were they? And of course: Dexter. She couldn’t believe that he left his wife for Juila Styles!!
Celeste thought that everything was about her. When her friend didn’t text back, Celeste wondered if she had done something to offend her. When window shoppers walked by and ignored her, she thought she must be boring and invisible. When Lilith sarcastically commented that she, Celeste, was always in a bad mood, Celeste thought about it for weeks and overcompensated by always smiling at Lilith who scowled back. She began to ruminate on the two posts below wondering if they were actually written with her in mind. Was she angry and slothful?
It would take some time, but in a few years, Celeste would come to learn that people project on others their own internal landscape. Everything was not about her. She was not the Sun which everyone revolved around, even though her ego would have her think that she was. She would learn her over-sensitivity was a form of pride.
It’s not that Midge didn’t want change in her life… she did! But it required so much work on her part. She didn’t believe she possessed the discipline required to live her best life. So, she did nothing except to veil herself in delusion with her back against the wall surrounded by fabric that smelled of Merlot. The years came and went. She spent them in her shadow self.
Lilith was always angry, and she didn’t know why. She carried a heavy load with her from one lifetime to the next that centered around responsibility she resented shouldering. Even though her life gave her plenty of karmic repeats to experience this heaviness, and thereby learn new ways to approach it so she may eventually release this energetic baggage, she just didn’t know how not to be angry.
Actually, she didn’t even know she was carrying anything. She believed everyone’s arms were stuck like her’s, as if they were forever in the act of changing diapers.
The Hermit hung his lantern on a nail and laid down for a short nap. If it weren’t for his robes, someone could have mistaken him for the Four of Swords.
When The Great Spirit Frog created Guanjuato, the land was still soft and wet from the rains. He filled a giant bag made of corn husks with stones of every color. He took this bag and sprinkled the stones out over the mountains. When he had finished, the stones had transformed into houses. From afar, each hill looked like a mouthful of crooked, colored teeth. The Great Spirit Frog had an enthusiastic sense of creativity and wanted people to live in these homes. So he invited them and when they came, he told them they were in Guanajuato, the place of frogs and hills.
For her birthday, Yolla put on a crown, swam in a cenote made of chocolate milk, and then stood in a door where she could watch couples kissing, dogs walking, and boys skateboarding in the park across the street.
Bill kept having a recurring dream where his wings were running in circles but he stayed in the same place. He couldn’t move. Then he would wake up, and it would happen in real life too.
Nettie consciously grew blossoms instead of spines. The other spiked branches that grew from the same stem she arose from watched curiously as she attracted bees and admirers.