surrender

This is a recent Facebook post by Dr. Lissa Rankin (whom I Love).

xoxJ

Take it away Lissa:

About a year ago, when I was posting something about a life challenge I was experiencing, Kelly Flanagan sent me an email quoting Susan Thomas Underwood.

It was exactly the guidance I needed, and I have a hunch that YOU need this today:

“I used to think that any door could be opened.
Some stood freely open, some could be opened easily; some were harder to penetrate. Sometimes you had to knock, sometimes bang, sometimes charge; but always, a door could be opened. Goals in my life were accomplished this way. No matter what I wanted; I accomplished it because I was willing to pound and pound against its door.
But I no longer live this philosophy, because I walk the path Creator prepares for me. Maybe I am not supposed to pass through a particular door. I have quit deciding which doors I wish to pass through. I have learned to let Creator open them for me.

You see, I am a rancher and I raise cattle. I know that my cattle and I do not speak the same language, and I cannot tell them where I want them to go. The way I show them is by opening gates. If I don’t want them to go into this or that pasture; I shut the gate. If I want them in a certain place, I open a gate. If there is not gate, I get between them and the place I do not want them to be with my horse or my truck, I provide obstacles. I guide them in this way.
Because the language of this world and the spirit world is different; communication is obscure.
I have learned that Creator guides me in the way that I guide my cattle.
Now, I look for open doors, for they are open for a reason. Doors are shut for a reason.
I am not saying the path is easy; there is much work walking the path Creator places before us. However, our precious energy does not have to be spent pounding against doors. Our energy can be saved for the path beyond the door. I’m saying to look for the open doors; for they mark your special path, your purpose, your dreams.”

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.
Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no help at all.”
– Dale Carnegie

I had about one hour until I had to be back at the store to let Homi go pick up her kids from school.
She would open the place up and work until two, a few days a week, giving me some time.
Time to run errands, pick frames, go to the bank, look for new merchandise, and worry.

By that point, late 2009, I was a professional worrier.

“They” say if you do something for ten thousand hours, that qualifies you as a master.
I can attest to that. I had mastered the art of worry, which is using your imagination to create things you DON’T want.
I was so brilliant at it, that an avalanche of unwanted shit was beginning to suffocate me.

The store was underwater financially and I was drowning. 

But life goes on, and we were having some friends over that night for a pot luck dinner in the backyard. I had used my morning to shop for food, buy candles, straighten up the place and get myself organized enough to come home at six and entertain.

I wasn’t in the mood to act happy, but I was going to fake it until I could make it.

Just as long as nobody asked me about the store, because if they did I was so tender and close to tears, the floodgates could open, run my mascara, and ruin a good time.
‘I’ll just change the subject, that’s what I’ll do’ I told myself.
That would be my version of self preservation.

We all agree that when we ask someone how they’re doing – we don’t REALLY want to know, right?

Things had gone faster than expected that morning, smoothly even, so I put the vacuum away, grabbed a handful of nuts that I’d put in a bowl for that night, and decided to lay down on the bed in the guest room. I was so deeply exhausted, I had one hour to regroup and maybe actually sleep instead of think.
When I laid my head down, I stated to relax.
Maybe because it was light outside, I could feel my face unclench, my hands open and my stomach unknot itself.
Darkness is worry’s ally, they double team you, and take you down. A daytime nap feels friendly, comforting almost.

I always say a mantra when I lay down. I can’t help it, I’ve done it for so many years it’s a habit. I’m not even sure if I can lay down without doing it.

That afternoon as exhaustion overtook me, I started repeating over and over, 
I SURRENDER
I SURRENDER
I SURRENDER
‘I can’t do this anymore, I give it to you, God, take it from me.’
I SURRENDER
‘I’m tired, and I give up.’
I pictured throwing my hands up over my head with great resignation.
‘I give up.‘
I SURRENDER.

We had our dinner party that night, it was relaxed and really nice.
Because people were over, I put my phone on silent, thew it in my purse and stowed my purse inside the closet; so I never heard it ring or all the texts coming in from midnight on – and there were MANY.

That night just before twelve, a giant water line broke on Coldwater Canyon and somehow filled my store with four and a half feet of water, changing THAT situation forever.
Blissfully unaware, for the first time in months, I slept like a baby.
Be careful what you pray for…..

A couple of days later….
My intuition had delivered a directive: go talk to my beautiful friend, whose also a counselor, Diana, have her help me process the turn of events, and have her do a meditation with me. In the meditation she guided me to a place of my choosing, to meet with someone with more wisdom than myself, someone who could give me a little insight, because I was in a quandary.

What do I do NOW?

We sat cross legged on the floor, across from each other, knees touching, eyes closed, as she guided me to a special place.
I saw myself in white robes in a kind of amphitheater, with tiers of stone seating. It felt like Ancient Greece to me. I was a great orator, and this place felt like home.

“Do you see anyone there with you?” Diana asked.
I didn’t.
“We called in someone wise, someone high above you, to help; they should be there.”
Finally, I saw a male figure approaching, he didn’t feel like any big deal to me, although Diana kept insisting he was.
“We called in someone very wise, very high up, that’s who he is.”
“Nope. He’s no big deal, we’re the same.” I continued to tell her.
“Janet, stop it, ask him to help you. What does he have to say?”
When I did that he came into focus.
Tears began to roll down my cheeks.
I had a hard time speaking, I was so overcome with emotion.
“Oh…..I’m kneeling down before him now, he has his hand on my head….. he’s my father?”
I was sobbing now.
“Not my dad – my father. Diana, he has a trident?
Oh…..He’s raising my chin to look him in the eyes….”
He looked at me with so much love and understanding.
“My daughter” he said, “I heard your prayer.
You may move Heaven and Earth, but I MOVE WATER.”

I can’t remember who said it first, but both Diana and myself said softly, “Poseidon”
Then I started to half laugh, half cry, while we both sat there wrapping our brains around what had just happened.

Great.

Does insurance cover Poseidon inspired flooding?

What do I tell Raphael? ‘Hey babe, you’re never gonna believe this, but Poseidon is my daddy and he took out the store because I prayed for help.’

Remember that parable from the other day about the man and the flood?
The answer to your prayers may not always look how you expect.

Love, Poseidon’s daughter,
Xox

for your listening pleasure 😉
https://soundcloud.com/jbertolus/whos-your-daddy-mines-poseidon

SURRENDER
sur·ren·der
səˈrendər/
(verb)
1. cease resistance to an enemy or opponent and submit to their authority.
synonyms: capitulate, give in, give (oneself) up, give way, yield, concede
(defeat), submit, climb down, back down, cave in, relent, crumble

1. give up or hand over (a person, right, or possession), typically on compulsion or demand.

“Always seek less turbulent skies.
Hurt. Fly above it.
Betrayal. Fly above it.
Anger. Fly above it.
You are the one who is flying the plane.”
― Marianne Williamson

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been known to continue to fly straight into the most turbulent sky’s.
Seat backs upright, tray tables locked in their upright position, death grip on the wheel, bleary eyes staring straight ahead.
The freakin’ FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS sign mocking me with its continuous, blaring red gaze.

Bumpy………Choppy……..Shit…………………Shit!

There I’d remain, resolute; until exhaustion set in, or whiplash, or both, and I would be forced to surrender the wheel.

Then, a force greater than myself, would steer my plane toward smooth horizons.

I wrote the other day about letting go of the wheel, and that really resonated with many of you. Letting the Muse or the Universe take over the accomplishment of all our endeavors. People wept with relief. Just the thought of it brought tears to their eyes.

But you can’t just throw your hands up, and put the plane on auto pilot.

Auto pilot to me; is just more of the same.
Super safe. It doesn’t rise, it doesn’t dive, it goes full steam ahead.
No change of course.

So here’s the deal. You have to take it a step further and SURRENDER the wheel.

I always HATED the word surrender. To me, it meant giving up.

Running that white flag up the pole to signal to everyone that you’ve just conceded the fight…..cause…..relationship….job….whatever.

It signified weakness.

I could not have been more wrong. Did you hear me? That’s WRONG.

“When we surrender to God, the Universe, Source, we surrender to something bigger than ourselves – to a Universe that knows what it’s doing.
When we stop trying to control events, they fall into a natural order, an order that works. We’re at rest while a power much greater than our own takes over, and it does a much better job than we could have done. We learn to trust that the power that holds galaxies together can handle the circumstances of our relatively little lives.”
~Marianne Williamson

It takes a great deal of courage to surrender. It is the opposite of cowardice.

It does not mean you’re giving away your power, on the contrary, you are powerful enough to realize that you may not have ALL the answers.
All the most powerful, accomplished people in the world are surrounded by a TEAM. When they’ve exhausted all their options, they make a calculated decision. They are deeply invested, they pay attention, BUT, they let the experts drive.

The experts are sent by the Universe.

Here’s a little secret. You know how my store was a causality of a freak urban flood?
Earlier that day, completely worn out and emotionally exhausted from fighting the good fight of trying to keep my store afloat financially, I sat in meditation and literally said: “I surrender. You take it,” over and over, picturing my arms up in the air, above my head, like the robber emerging after the bank heist.

I gave in. I yelled “Uncle.”

The next day, when I woke up……..the store was just a soggy memory. Gone. Finished.
Um, thanks?

My courage had to catch up with my request, because it wasn’t at ALLLLLL what I was expecting. But that’s how the Universe rolls.

“Surrender means, by definition, giving up attachment to results. When we surrender to God, we let go of our attachment to how things happen on the outside and we become more concerned with what happens on the inside.”
~Marianne Williamson

They’ll be times when you can’t guide your own plane to clear sky’s.
You just can’t for life of you find any.

Pry your hands off the wheel, put your seat back, disengage the auto-pilot, relax and SURRENDER the entire situation to the Universe.

Then ring for the flight attendant to bring you a cocktail.

What needed surrendering in your life TODAY? Have you had success with surrender in the past? I’d LOVE to hear about it?

Xox

If it sounds like writing…rewrite it
~Elmore Leonard~

We all come in with a purpose.

But because we’ve forgotten to remember, we spend the majority of our lives searching for it.
Unless you’re incredibly lucky and come in as a child prodigy….or angry cat.

Once we make our connection with God, the Muse, Source, or whatever you want to call it, our ONLY job is to remain a clear and unbiased vessel.

When we do finally connect with our purpose, it becomes more than a job.
It becomes a calling.
All we need to do is enthusiastically show up every day.

The purpose itself will create opportunities for its accomplishment.

What?

You mean I’m not the only one who controls how this work gets out in the world?

I feel solely responsible for what happens to anything I create, after the initial process is finished.
I want to write the pitch, I want to orchestrate the meeting, I want to call the shots with every i dotted and every t crossed…..by me.

Yet, if we can trust the Muse to co-create our purpose, can’t we trust her to place it just where it needs to go?

She’s got a much broader vision than we’ll ever have, and her contacts are legendary. Back in the day of Rolodex’s, she had fifty of them lined up, side by side, crammed with every mover and shaker across the planet.

Nothing escapes her radar.

Her ideas have ideas.

We have thoughtfully and tenderly brought her masterpiece to third dimension; she’ll take care of the rest.

If we muck up the trajectory SHE has in mind with our ideas of how WE think it should play out…..crickets.

Here is the story of J K Rowling’s (if you’ve been living under a rock, she is the author of the Harry Potter series of books) rise to fame.

After being rejected twelve times by every major publishing company, one of the manuscripts found its way into a pile on an office shelf. End of story, right?

It could have been. It should have been.

What happened next could have come with a swish of Harry Potter’s wand.
(Muse magic?)

In the spring of 1997, struggling English producer David Heyman’s secretary, Nisha Parti, picked up a manuscript from the shelf marked ‘low priority’.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was yet to be published. She took it home to read over the weekend.
Monday morning they had their meeting and David asked if anyone had read anything good. Nisha said, “Well I’ve read this book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“That’s a rubbish title,” he said. What’s it about?”
She said, “It’s about a young boy who goes to wizard school.”
Intrigued, he took it home and read it in one night.
And the rest is history.

So…..
What if J K Rowling had stopped after three rejections, or seven, or ten?

We have no idea which manuscript ended up on the low priority list in that producer’s office.

What if she had listened to the criticism that boys don’t read books?

What made his secretary pick THAT manuscript to read? Who marked it low priority, so that it ended up in her pile?

What if she’d released them as short stories, because people were telling her the books were too long and wordy?

What if she was against film adaptation? Some authors are.

Someone came up with the release date parties held at midnight in bookstores across the globe. They created a marketing frenzy. That was a completely new concept in book publishing/marketing at the time. Whose idea was THAT?
(That has the Muse’s fingerprints ALL over it.)

What if she’d wanted a more well-known producer, or more money?
The list goes on and on.
I think you get the gist.

I really love the concept that all we have to do is sing, write, paint, create; then listen for instructions on what comes next and not have to drive ourselves nuts figuring out the rest.
You get that we can’t possibly know what comes next, right?

Finish your work. Say a prayer. Let go of the wheel.

Let the source that wrote the screenplay, line up the appropriate people, and then pitch it.
She’ll tell us what day and what to say. She’s proud of her work, that Muse, and so naturally she’d love it to get as popular and touch as many people as possible.
Doesn’t that make sense?

Due diligence, yes. Thinking we have all the answers, no.

The purpose itself will create opportunities for its Accomplishment

It’s worth repeating.

Do you have projects you need to let go of and trust the process? I’d love to hear some stories of how the Muse took a project where it needed to go.
Tell me in the comments!

Xox

Prayer To The Muse
Give the act to me.
Purged of hope and ego,
Fix your attention on the soul.
Act and do for me.”

Excerpt From: Steven Pressfield & Shawn Coyne. “The War of Art.” Visionary Press, 2012.

The Muse and I were sitting around the other day chatting, as we do. She with an air of gin, tonic and attitude; and me, always in awe of her beauty and general badassery.

I was questioning her about all aspects of the writing process, publishing in particular, of which she is extremely knowledgeable.

She is the Muse, after all.

As the conversation zig and zagged over the various ways to get published, she shook her head. “There’s no excuse these days, for an author not to get their work out in the world to be read.”

“So all of us, the writers of the world, together with our Muses, we just write what we love, and send it, like our precious baby, out into the world? I asked “What intention should we give it as we send it on its way? To touch people? To help people? To make money? To be a best seller?”

I couldn’t tell by the way she slowly turned to face me, with a kind of half smirk, whether her answer was going to be kind, or I was gonna get a smack down.

She started to laugh.
The Muse has a laugh like the throaty purr of a Maserati. Deep and sexy.
The result of age, too many late nights, strong drinks and cigarettes.

“I only write best sellers, my darling” she purred with her usual lack of humility.

“That’s all I’m capable of. I only paint masterpieces. I only write musical compositions that bring grown men to tears. It’s all I know how to do.”

Now I was shaking my head, but she continued.

“As the Muse, I am Divine Inspiration at the highest level, sending my masterpiece through you, the vessel.”

Now I was leaning in; listening intently, she could sense my interest, so she took a long drag on her cigarette to keep me in suspense.

“I’m incapable of writing a boring book or a piece of shit movie.” She threw her head back, smoke billowing from her nostrils.
“That’s YOUR contribution.” She was laughing again.

“The clearer the vessel, the clearer the translation of my work. If you start to question it, or edit it, or doubt it, well, darling, you’re being an idiot.”
I laughed.

“If you can’t recognize a masterpiece when you see it or read it, or you somehow think you can do it better,” she shifted in her chair, “you’ll compromise the material.
It will become mediocre….or suck altogether.”

That was a big AhHa for me.

What she was saying was this: that no matter what your talent is, no matter what ideas you have, we are ALL capable of greatness; it’s wholly dependent on the clarity of our connection to the Muse. No one is more talented, they are just better connected.
Steve Jobs, I’m going to venture to guess, kept his nose out of her business.

He just let it flow.

I get it. I get it!

“Our relationship is very complicated, my darling. Everyday I’m taking a chance that you will trust me enough to write my words the way I say them or paint my vision, using the colors I choose. I hear your prayer and I get ready to work. All you have to do is trust and stay clear of fear, doubt, and judgement.”

“Oh is THAT all.” I replied, sarcastically.

“My job as the Muse is to pick the correct vessel.”
She got to her feet for emphasis, turned and winked.
“It is how all the great works of humanity; of architecture, and the arts have been created. I believe it to be a good system.”

So do I.
I’d be an idiot to disagree with the Muse.

Xox

“Someday you are going to realize there is a tremendous difference in knowing the path, and walking the path”
Morpheus to Neo ~The Matrix

I hate to do this, but if you want to be caught up, you’re going to have to go back and read Parts I-III.
I’ll wait.

Ok, so now you have some of the back story.

This installment starts in late November 1993 and I’m going for my second session of “energy work” with that little Tasmanian devil, T.
I’ve wised up enough to realize this work has absolutely nothing to do with alleviating tension and sore muscles.
It is a “soul massage”. It is releasing very old and “stuck” cellular memory, in order to give my soul a cleaner slate. I didn’t have a full grasp of why that was a good idea, but like most things that were happening to me at that time, I was just “goin’ with the flow”.

T incorporated acupuncture needles this time. TONS of them. I had them all over my body. My face was covered, down my spine and the bottoms of my feet, which freaked me out. What if there was an Earthquake and I had to make a run for it?
When he was working on my spine, I started to feel very anxious, like an anxiety attack—so I told him to stop. With one wave of his hand, I felt better.

Shit, Where was this guy when I was getting my divorce?

After my previous session, which was my first, I became quite ill.
This time, I lost my mind.
Well, just a little at first, but I’m someone who REALLY likes feeling normal, and as I left normal far behind me in the rearview mirror, I shut down.
But first I got weird and kinda desperate.
I had read that putting pennies (copper) in your shoes could help ground a person, so imagine if you will, me at work with pennies taped inside my Jimmy Choo’s and Manolo Blahnik’s.  It didn’t help. I was out of clever options. Could a tin-foil hat be far behind?

Work…yeah, that was interesting. Thank God I ran the place, so I was there alone 90% of the time. I literally would be “out” of my body all day, every day. To the point that I would forget how to answer a telephone. Not what to say… I didn’t know how it worked! It would ring, and I’d stare at it, like someone from the dark ages seeing modern technology for the first time. Same thing with the fax. I also had trouble reading English.

While I was “out” I was freezing cold, but each day for I’d say a half-hour total, I’d pop back “in” for a visit. I could feel it start at the base of my spine with a warmth that would radiate to the top of my head. Once it got there, Me, the 20th century Janet, would be back!
That’s when I made sure I would listen and return the phone messages, and read whatever needed my attention. Oddly enough I have no memory of a single customer interaction. I know that can’t be true, this madness lasted for over three months, but apparently, I was able to fake sanity convincingly.

I was so afraid of getting fired or driving a car when I was “out” but my team, yes, I had a little team around me now, with T acting as the leader, and he assured me that the state I was in (Samadhi) was so sacred, that no harm would befall me.
Sacred Shmakred. But it never did.

When I wasn’t an emotionless zombie, I was suffering epic, massive anxiety. Fear was my constant companion.
I know, hot mess…enlightenment isn’t elegant. (More on that later)

I had one foot in this world, and another foot…somewhere else. Somewhere far, far, away, where I was assured I was needed.
My opinion was, hey, I have this perfectly good body right here, right now, I want to be present! So I fought the process. Tooth and nail. No flow going for me! I struggled every second of every day, and THAT was causing all my suffering.

You don’t fight Samadhi, you embrace it, or so I was told.

Nights were hard. I lived alone, for which I was partially grateful. On one hand, I didn’t have to make excuses for my behavior, but I felt extremely isolated.

God, nights are sinister.
I’d never really noticed that before. They are excruciatingly looooong and so damn black, so damn all the time in the winter!

T did his energy work on me, sometimes several times a day if I was particularly uncomfortable.
With him came that same bone dry bedside manner.
I remember, one day, laying on the bed, saying all I could see was black, and screaming that I couldn’t breathe.
Me:(gasping dramatically) I’m gonna die!
T: (calmly, almost bored, while thumbing through a People magazine) You are in Bardo, every cell in your body can breathe, not just your lungs, ask your whole body to breathe for you. How about if you quit fighting it? Surrender.
Me: I’m dying!
T: Then die.

Looking back I realize his calm nonchalance saved me. I can’t imagine how scared I would have been if he had been freaking out also. I’m convinced that that’s the best way to be in these situations. Calm and reassuring, not at all emotionally invested.

If I had smelled ANY fear on his part, I would have lost it…more than I already had.

The team was concerned that if I didn’t lighten up and “throw up my hands like I’m on a roller coaster” that the energy would fry my circuits. Everyone agreed, fighting it was not serving me.

“This is your new normal,” they’d insist.  “There’s no going back, you can’t un-know something, once you know it”

Shut up! And what does that even mean??

I swear, some of the people that look homeless and crazy on the streets, I’m convinced have never learned to ride the roller coaster. I feel for them, I really do.
I bet they have pennies in their shoes.

My friend at work, Sally, was the only person I confided in. She didn’t judge, even though it looked to her like her friend had flipped her lid.
When I felt particularly bad, I’d walk by her booth and we’d make eye contact.
Then we’d both throw our arms in the air and go “weeeee” and I’d feel a little more human and understood. She rode the coaster with me.

I’m making it sound like it was all hell.
It was mostly hell, but Samadhi brings with it some interesting party favors.
I think that happens to keep you engaged because every fiber of my being was checked out.
I did have some mystical, magical, miracles happen during that time.
Those will be next.

(To be continued)
XoxJanet