There is nothing you cannot be, do, or have. – Abraham Hicks.
This theme has been swirling around me, day after day, moment after moment. There is nothing I cannot be do or have. I see that. All around me. The trick is seeing that for me. And instead of seeing that I see what I am not, do not, have not. Why?
From what I have absorbed, Why is the least effective question to ask in this situation. It provides a hamster wheel of astronomical proportions, whereupon I can spin, spin, spin, satiating my desire to feel like I am trying, but in reality, not getting anywhere. Fast. For example: Why me? Why them? Why this? What answer would satisfy? These questions establish a polarity of separation that, if answerable, will confirm there is a Have and a Have Not, and that these two distinctions are justifiable by the Universe: when most scripture, avatars, and mystics beam that this is not true. There is no separation, no matter what. So if I search for Why, I am feeding energy into the very aspect I am trying to dissipate, thus furthering and deepening the chasm between myself and Truth. Humpf.
The next, seemingly appropriate question to ask is: How? Recently I had the gift of standing in the Kauaian ocean with a most astounding woman, powerful, strong, sensual, and soft. A well balanced woman who has manifested living her dharma joyously in this life; she leads groups of open hearted seekers to Egypt. www.presenceofheart.com We were lapping up the ocean waves and talking about manifestation. She said, “I have seen many people so close, so determined in their manifesting and then they ask: How. That one word stops it all. You, [she turned and looked at me] stay focused,” she motioned forward into the vast ocean, “on your path and let the Divine deliver the how.” She went on to explain that how, is the mistrust, the fear, the disbelief of the ego. When you let go of how, “miracles flood in.”
So, in case you missed it – like I apparently did – don’t ask how.
Recently, while watching a video of Osho, a most profound soul speaker, it is not only what he says, but the manner with which he delivers that is so easy for me to absorb. Osho said all you have to do is witness. Witness your emotions: I am angry. Notice the anger. Notice the fear, whatever, you are dealing with. Don’t change it. Don’t rationalize it; give it nothing, but allow it to be heard, to be seen. At first this seemed over simplified to me. Then I remembered an example of this in my own life: I was upset and shared my emotions with my partner, and he listened. Truly listened. And as he listened, I could hear the deflation in my emotions. And when he asked, “What do you want?” I felt in my heart, that simply being heard was what I wanted. I realized that I did not want him to change or do, but there was an immense value in his patience of allowing me to expose and allow my less evolved (a nice euphemism for fear, anger and jealousy) emotions and complaints to receive their space. And in that reception, there was a moment of great relief.
Clearly, I am still climbing this mountain. But even in this typing, I am remembering the shanti (peace) or that moment, and it feels like the same tonation that Osho spoke of. The lesson is not in these words, but in this experience. Try it yourself. Call the one trusted soul you have in your life: parent, friend, lover, pet, et cetra and allow the indulgence of speaking your truth. Without concern of appropriateness, righteousness or external appearances of any form. As you do this, tune in to your breathing: does it accelerate (how about your heart?) when you tell your tale? Does it change? Are they really listening? Are you really listening to what you are saying? Try, as you are recounting, to also witness your Self. If possible. If not, practice.
Then, I think, with that practice, we start to be the listeners to our own inner dialogue. To offer that peace to our own Souls. And when there is peace within our own soul, there is space for creation. There is acceptance of grandeur, or at least more viability to believe in our own ability, our own gifts, rather than the apparent desperations or absences. And with that, maybe there is nothing we cannot be, do, or have.