Jamie Gilroy
The Antidote
- July 02, 2008
Guess what? No dreams of clients or projects. Wow! Maybe it’s because I left everything I had at my desk after working late last night to catch up on things like writing proposals and doing invoices. Thank gawd for Megs and all the help she recently provided to get my business caught up. No way I could do it all without her energy and assistance. Thanks baby. You da best.
If any of you dear readers run your own business you know what I’m talking about when I say it’s pretty much a 24/7 deal. I’m not bitching mind you, it’s just a ton of responsibility to have seven people I’m feeding while figuring out the best way to destroy someone’s house, put it back together nicely and for the amount of money I said it would cost. All while trying to line up more of the same. The trade offs make it worthwhile (don’t they?) yet my mind is pretty much thinking about my business most of the time. However just so you don’t think I need a really long vacation or jolt of 50,000 volts I do find ways to experience other things besides work.
Like seeing my youngest son Bodhi occasionally during my day (big trade off #1 - my office is next to our house and all of my work is very close by - I’m usually home for lunch). Or spending time with him during our nightly bath ritual. In those moments I connect to his world. And what a world he is becoming! Now that he is walking, almost running, the ante is upped. He’s learning words and is not afraid to repeat them all day long. Everything is new to Bodhi. Everything. And when I get an opportunity to connect with him even briefly it takes me back to the moment - currently fresh and alive and precious…
My other son Nick is coming home tomorrow from his year away in Italy. I can’t wait to see him. He hasn’t seen his little brother in over six months, which is like dog years when you’re talking about a baby. I’m excited to see the two of them interact and play. Nick is so great with kids and maybe he can share some of his beautiful wisdom and grace with his little bro. Or maybe he’ll just chase him around like the rest of us do.
I plan to play this coming holiday weekend. Play and relax and hang with my boyz. What could be better than that?
To me that’s the antidote to all this very serious work stuff.
Take a moment. That’s the remedy. One fine moment after another.
J
Dream Builder
- July 01, 2008
I guess this is my week to write about my life as a general contractor since it’s pretty much what I focus on every day. Yup, it’s my job. Last night I dreamt of another client. Just so you don’t think I’m crazed and obsessed I almost never dream of projects or clients. But maybe there’s a good reason I am. Let’s see.
In the dream I was walking with the client and looking at the work that we were supposed to complete and that someone else had been hired to finish. I wasn’t that impressed with the quality but the client seemed happy so I didn’t say anything negative. We walked together for awhile. I kept sensing he wanted me to approve of something - not just the work but maybe him or the process we went through. Actually I wasn’t entirely sure why I was there.
Now I am.
I really like the client I was dreaming of. He’s a good guy, a guy’s guy - someone I could relate to: a father, hard worker, trying to do his best in the world and take care of his family. The only problem is he fired me, or maybe I fired him. Our relationship went south and that rarely happens to me. I really try to treat people fairly, openly, and honestly and most 0f the time have a successful relationship with my clients. This particular client owes me a substantial amount of money. He had to hire someone else to finish his project after I left. The lawyers got involved (so far no resolution many months later) which in 26 years of being self employed I have never experiened. And yet amazingly I feel fine about it. I mean I wish it hadn’t ended the way it did. But it did.
This experience is an opportunity for me to see where I get hooked and if there is still some residue or sticky belief from the unsatisfying way this relationship ended. I can honestly say there was no animosity on my part in the dream (or on his side from what I could tell). For me it comes down to choice. How do I want to choose to feel? Is it worth getting stressed or angry over? Do I want to make the client wrong? Or myself wrong? Do I see my contribution to what the outcome was? Absolutely. Do I beat myself up over it? No way. Why would I? For me it comes down to respect. Respect for the emotions I will initially feel, respect for the way I want to eventually feel, respect for choosing to feel OK about a less than ideal outcome, and respect for how the other person feels.
Here’s the deal: I respect the way the client decides to feel about me. In the past that would eaten me alive knowing someone didn’t like me or thought I was incompetent, or wasn’t happy with me. I truly respect the way I am perceived by others and I’m not advocating apathy or carelessness in my relationships. The ways in which people choose to form opinions are vast and specific to their individual experiences. I learned awhile ago I can’t control that, nor do I want to. At that point for me it’s no longer personal.
My goal in doing this unique business of renovating people’s homes is to promote happiness and create beautiful work. I do have a responsibility to my clients and yet I am not responsible for their happiness. That was what used to hook me. Some people aren’t happy. Period. I will do my best to build a beautiful product. I will also do my best to ensure that the process is enjoyable and provide good communication. But sometimes things don’t go right. I wish that weren’t the case but it still happens on occasion. I try to learn from it, make the necessary adjustments and move on.
I want to be a dream builder. Forgive me if I don’t always get it right. But I love the learning curve and no longer resist it. I’m learning to see every interaction as an opportunity.
Even the ones that don’t end up well. In some ways those are the ones that inform the most…
See you out there in my dream.
Renovation Anyone?
- June 30, 2008
As she spoke she got more and more upset and she began to cry. Finally I said what to me seemed like the obvious. I said that she really didn’t have to get so distraught, there was nothing a sawzall and a nail gun couldn’t fix. And you know what? In that moment I said that with 100% conviction. Like talking to someone who was sad it was dark in their room and me saying to them then just turn on the light. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after that and then the dream ended.
I mentioned the dream to Meg the next morning and she laughed. Meg in her line of work helps people to make better choices and become happier in their lives. She said if only it was that easy to renovate ourselves just using a sawzall (reciprocating saw) and a nail gun – instead of battling through all our beliefs and learning the latest spiritual and psychological techniques to gain awareness. That got me to thinking about how easy it is to renovate an external structure and how hard it is to renovate ourselves – those internal structures that we no longer enjoy. Fear, anger, jealousy, hatred, judgment, lack of self esteem…etc.
With a sawzall in hand you can cut apart just about anything – wood, metal, roof shingles. By cutting these things you can alter the way a structure looks, remove it and make way for a new change. Change the size of a door opening perhaps, add a sidelight or maybe a transom. Let some more light in. More glass, more transparency.
With a nail gun you can start to put it all back together. No more endless swings of a hammer to wear you out. Just throw a coil of 12 penny framing nails in the gun hook it up to the compressor and wow! Things get put back together quick and easy. Usually too they don’t come apart unless you got a sawzall…
See how that works? What if we don’t like part of our inner experience? What if we worry excessively about what people think of us? So what?! Grab that sawzall, load in a big saw blade and go to town! Things might get messy and be a bit stubborn to cut out but eventually the transformation will happen. Once you’ve removed that old structure go get the nail gun. Build a new structure for yourself, but make this one exactly how you like it. Make it yours. Renovation is taking something existing and transforming it into (hopefully) something better. Using what’s already there but making it more comfortable and inspiring.
I think I’m onto something here. Maybe I should set up a booth outside Home Depot and offer a demonstration of how to rid oneself of an old point of view. How to instead build something wonderful and unique for yourself and then invite people in to see how cool it looks! I could even give away a free tool to each person who stopped by the booth.
Yes! A free shop vac to deal with the inevitable mess that renovation creates. And at the end of the day it’s SO satisfying to vacuum up all the crap our little project produced.
So enjoy! No need to stress! Go grab your favorite tools and express yourself!
Happy renovating!
And don’t forget to watch my upcoming TV show on PBS - This Old Belief System, or the one on ABC – Extreme Inner Makeover.
Humm, I do kind of have a bit of a soul patch like Ty does…but maybe it’s more like chin spinach actually. Nothing a set of clippers couldn’t fix.
Time to go to work.
J
Leaving Home - Part Two
- June 25, 2008
So that first leaving home experience wasn’t so bad huh? I ventured into the unknown and found it to be not so scary. Initially that was the case yes. That year between high school and college turned into a bit of a challenge however. I made some really silly (obviously in hindsight) decisions that led me to some experiences that put a damper on my foray into the unknown. And in the years to come I continued to stumble after that brilliant start out of the gate.
But what would wisdom be without the mistakes and failures to inform us and lead us to a place of awareness if we’re so lucky? That’s the keyword however - inform. If you’re like me, then a hard head tends to batter things numerous times before the way around becomes clear. My lessons came hard and fast. I don’t go quietly - never have. It’s all or nothing, 100% conviction, damn the torpedo’s, screw convention, take the path less traveled type of strategies.
Let’s flash forward a couple of decades, multiple relationships, lots of debts, a son, plenty of scars both emotional and physical, and at least half a dozen near death experiences. Not to say it was all wreckage and disaster - it wasn’t. But underneath my battered facade I was getting tired of repeating myself and getting the same results. What’s that adage? The definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result? Something like that. That was me.
Anyway by the time I reached 40 years on the planet I was ready for a change from that behavior. I thought maybe convention wasn’t so bad. Maybe that worn path was worth following. Maybe my head was better off not being used to ram things. Maybe I’d just settle down and live a quiet life of…desperation? Normalcy? Why not I thought. I’m done searching for the Holy Grail of Happiness. Fug it.
Well guess what? Life had other ideas (duh!). Just when I was ready to show my belly I got cold cocked. My heart got broke again and as I sat there in the midst of my shattered dreams and hopes I had a bit of an awakening. Maybe one of those once in a lifetime sparks of self awareness. It was this: ok this place seems really familiar (heartbreak). What if for once in my life I don’t rush to recreate the structure called Jamie so quickly. What if I look and SEE how I might reassemble in a new way. That my fine friends, that little tiny spark ended up burning my whole inner house down. Sometimes in Nature a fire happens to restore order and beauty and balance. In my case that’s what happened.
So dear reader you may be asking what the heck this all has to do with leaving home? Good question. That ignition of awareness propelled me to take a journey that altered my direction for the remainder of my life. However it required leaving home again - my newly adapted coastal home. I had lived here for 5 years and experienced some of the most brilliant and challenging moments of my life. I had found the place I felt like I belonged, people I connected with - a community - a true sense of home. And now I was pulled to leave to go on another journey - one that felt like Life or Death, Now or Never. To move all the way across country to California and a destiny yet to be determined. I knew I had to go, had to against all good judgment leave the Known again for the Unknown. For some reason it felt like my roots were being ripped from the ground and I was dying for nourishment.
I’m not ashamed to admit I cried most of the way driving across country. Cried for the leaving of friends and family. Cried for the sad state called my creation - my life. Cried for being 40 years old and having to take another journey into what? To where?
You got it - the Unknown. But guess what? It was even better than that first time so many years ago. The changes that came about inside me as a result of that leaving home part two were lasting and radically transformational. Life altering actually.
And you wanna know the best part? I came back home. Back to my beloved seaside community when I learned once and for all that all I can ever do is embrace the not knowing and love it.
Wow. I’ll never doubt the Unknown again.
Ever.
Again. J
Leaving Home - Part One
- June 19, 2008
I’ve been thinking about leaving home recently. No, I’m not going anywhere. It’s just that I know a couple of young friends who recently graduated high school and it got me reminiscing about the excitement I felt at leaving my own known world behind for the first time.
The first real time I left home (not counting during my senior year when I went to live with my best friend for 2 weeks) was exactly three days after my high school graduation. We graduated on a Friday, had a killer all night/day party at a friends house Saturday/Sunday and by Monday I was at the airport. I was totally primed and ready to go seek my way in the world.
I was heading west like so many pioneers before me. I had seen that mythical, vast, and heroic part of the USA called the Continental Divide for the very first time when I was 15 years old on a family cross country trip. Colorado, Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana. All places that were ingrained in my young psyche by repeatedly watching the old western movies - everything starring John Wayne, anything directed by Sam Peckinpah, and of course the classic and my all time favorite - Jeremiah Johnson with Robert Redford. That movie was to be the template for the life I wanted to live - if not in actuality, then at least in my imagination. I wanted to live far from civilization and all its noise and congestion. I wanted to roam the mountains and live close to the earth. Even taking a Flathead Indian woman to live with and raise a family living off of the land - it all sounded good to me.
So with that in mind and $150 cash in my pocket I headed to LaGuardia airport. My stepfather in his haste to be rid of a testosterone-infused-budding-alpha-male offered me a hundred bucks and a bus ticket to anywhere in the country. I counter offered that with a one way plane ticket and fifty bucks more I’d go. I reasoned there wasn’t much to see between New York and where I was headed so why waste time on a bus. I remember hugging my mom good bye at the gate (yes you could go to the gate back then - no security) and in photographs of that moment that I looked at years later I could see the determination in my eyes to make the break and leave my old life behind. I had my cowboy hat, jeans, and work shirt on. I was totally green. And I was totally psyched regardless. Though if you told me I was green I would have begged to differ.
I’ll never forget flying in to Salt Lake City and my heart pounding as I saw the Wasatch Mountains explode up from the desert floor. It felt like I was in my new home. I took a bus into the city figuring I find a job. But the mountains kept calling me and after checking into my room in a downtown flop house and spending a restless night there with a six pack of Coors and a local newspaper I packed up late the next morning and started hitchhiking towards the mountains in distance.
Barely out of the city-limits a cab pulled over and the driver hailed me. Where are you going, he asked. To the mountains I replied. Wait here I’ll be back in 20 minutes. Sure enough 20 minutes later he pulled up and said hop in. We picked up a friend of his, grabbed some food and started the drive out of the perfectly flat valley towards one of the canyons that led to the heart of the Wasatch. There was still snow on the tops of the peaks visible from the city below that turned pink as the sun set. As night fell we were winding up a narrow canyon road - Little Cottonwood canyon as it turned out. My new friends dropped me off at a large lodge that looked like it grew out of the mountain built from stone and large timbers. I waved goodbye and turned to walk in through the doors of the impressive lodge. A very attractive older woman (at least 23 years old) greeted me with a big smile. I said I had just arrived and was hoping to find work. I asked where I was. She replied, Snowbird. I told her I didn’t have enough money to stay in such a beautiful lodge and was there anywhere cheaper. She said not to worry - she could get me the employee rate since I would most likely start working there soon. She smiled and handed me the room key and wished me a good night.
The room was huge and had floor to ceiling sliding doors that looked out into the darkness. I fell onto the kingsize bed and into a deep sleep.
That morning I woke up late and pulled open the drapes. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The mountain rose out of my view and there were all these people congregating on a plaza at the base of the mountain. I looked closer. The people were all young girls my age. They seemed to be wearing cheerleading outfits. I went down to the lobby hoping to run into the young woman from the night before. Instead there was a really old guy behind the desk (early 30’s). I asked him who all the people were on the plaza. He said there was a cheerleading convention of 500 of the best cheerleaders from around the country staying at Snowbird for the week.
You’re kidding right? Nope. My very first foray into the Unknown delivered me straight to Heaven. On a very cellular (and dare I say biological) level, my leaving home without a clue about how I would earn money or how I would survive was turning out just fine.
That was easy. Or so I thought.
From where I sit now that first journey was in fact easy and yet the subsequent ones became less so. The purity and ecstasy of that first leap soon faded into a place of searching for the known.
Certainty. Comfort. Belonging. Control. The Known soon grew like an all encompassing vine twisting around my wild spirit and constricting it until many, many years later I took another journey.
Leaving home - part two. Stay tuned.
Godspeed amigos.
J
Fathers and Sons Day
- June 16, 2008
What a lucky man I am.
Yesterday I saw so clearly how truly blessed I am to have two sons. One of them is Nicholas Kai. Nick is 17 years old and a fine young man. He has experienced more in his 17 years than many people do in a lifetime. He is beautiful, kind, helpful, compassionate, smart, a great athlete and a Dreamer. He has seen that this life is his canvas and the choices he makes affects the quality of that art. People are constantly remarking on his maturity and wisdom. I love Nick so much and am incredibly proud of who he is and excited to see who he will become as a man.
My other son is 13 months old. His name is Bodhi Quinn. He just mastered walking. He is an amazing little light. Last night he woke up around 3am crying and hoping to nurse. Meg has been trying to wean him from the “midnight snacks” as we call them and Bodhi has not been too cooperative. So last night I went to his room and picked him up out of his crib and sat down in the rocker and started to sing him a Hopi song I learned long ago. He’s been hearing it since he was first born and gradually his crying slowed and finally stopped. He wasn’t asleep but he wasn’t in distress either. It felt so good to hold him and have him be still and not wobbling off somewhere. His little head on my shoulder. His heart next to mine.
I love the connectedness I feel with these two sons of mine.
On Sunday Nick called from Sedona to wish me a happy fathers day. Last night at 3am Bodhi lifted his little blond head off of my shoulder for a second and said “daaa da” in the softest sweetest little voice. Maybe like he was acknowledging the day too. A few minutes later he was softly snoring.
Fathers and sons day.
I saw a short segment this morning I had taped from half time of the NBA finals where Bill Walton was talking about his son Luke who plays for the Lakers. The joy in Bill was palpable as he reminisced about Luke as a boy. He final words were about his unconditional love for his four sons. That’s it isn’t it? Unconditional love.
Feel it. Spread it.
Be it.
Happy being alive day. Every day.
And to Nickle & Bo Man - be true to yourselves and let your love shine without a doubt.
Love,
Dad
Can You Hear Me now?
- June 04, 2008
This morning I was having a conversation with a client. I was on my cell phone and she was on hers. Where her project is located has sketchy cell service at best and when I see I have a signal and make a call I try not to move from that spot. Doesn’t always work though and often I’ll be talking and notice the other person is not responding. I wonder for how long was I going on and at what point did I lose them? That can be frustrating or humorous depending on the day.
Anyway, this morning I lost my client mid-way through our conversation. As I re-dialed her she drove up in her truck. Apparently she was right down the street suffering from her own minimal-signal-bar syndrome and had pulled over so as not to lose the call. Pretty funny the strategies we adopt to keep communicating in the 21st century. How did we live before cell phones? As she got out of her truck I could sense a feeling of inner relief that we could now resume our conversation in person without fear of having it “dropped”.
But even person to person the opportunity exists to have a miscommunication. I think about all the assumptions that get made in the course of my day - especially doing a construction project. Even having things drawn out on a set of blueprints or spelled out in a proposal doesn’t guarantee clear communication. I find myself being ultra cautious these days to make sure those things I’m communicating are understood by the other person. I also make sure I understand what is being said to me.
Sometimes blaming the cell phone is a satisfying albeit temporary excuse for poor communication. Ultimately though it comes down to the individual taking full responsibility for communicating clearly and effectively. I no longer point the finger and say it’s someone else’s bad for not getting it right. I make sure I got it right first now. I make sure that the words I’m using have meaning. That the meaning is understood. That we’re clear with what’s been communicated. I’m attempting to do this on both a business level and on a personal level.
I see the results of the bad communication. Endless litigation and wrangling…
I see the results of good communication. Enjoyable relationships.
The difference between bad & good? The difference is amazing.
Can you hear me now?
Yes I most certainly can. Thanks for listening.
J
The Last Buffalo
- May 31, 2008
Many years ago I lived in brick building on the corner of Second Avenue and 4th Street in Greenwich Village. I was living there with three dancers from NYU. It was a magical time. It was a time when possibility ran through my veins. It was a time when Life was a merry-go-round. Once on all control was lost and once off the dizziness was overwhelming. It was a time of pushing boundaries and struggling to gain awareness.
In other words it was raw. The scrapes and bruises were real - and I gave as good as I got. 20 years old and living large as possible. In those days my mind was into Lao Tzu and Herman Hesse and Buddhism and the chivalry of martial arts. We ate Szechuan food almost nightly and drank red wine on the stoops. We threw parties and stayed up all night watching the lights go out in the street as the sun came up over the East River.
Yet in my heart I was a spotted pony running across the prairie. The city was not my home. Too much humanity packed too tightly and not enough nature to keep it real. I had moved to NYC from Montana. And I missed the silence and solitude of the big sky state. I loved the idea of being merged with the earth. To me back then the Native Americans embodied that ideal. I wished I had lived in that time when there were no roads except that which a man created in his desire. The land was wide open, the earth full of life and alive. In a way I was trying to live in both worlds while living in the Village.
One afternoon lying in bed after making love with one of the dancers I fell asleep and into a dream. In this dream Manhattan was all overgrown. The yellow cabs were all gone and the trucks as well. The buildings were all empty. I didn’t see any people on the sidewalks. I was standing under the arch in Washington Square park looking north up Fifth Avenue. I could hear a faint rumble in the distance. As I peered up Fifth Avenue I could make out shapes coming towards me. The noise got louder and approaching me was a huge herd of buffalo. They were stampeding down the avenue towards the park. As they moved the vibration was so great that the buildings crumbled as the herd passed leaving huge dust clouds in their wake.
I awoke suddenly and felt out of breath. My girlfriend was staring at me. She asked me what was wrong. She said I had a wild look in my eyes. I started to cry, slowly at first, one tear at a time, then I began sobbing. I’m sure she thought I was having a nervous breakdown. I felt like my heart was breaking. I was trying to say something through my grief. Suddenly I blurted out that they killed all the buffalo. That all the buffalo were gone and were never to return. Now I know my girlfriend was concerned by the look in her eyes. But to her credit she just gathered me up in her arms and held me for a long time while I cried and cried about the buffalo and their untimely demise.
To this day I don’t know why I reacted like that except to say it felt like a memory of a time long ago. It felt like a crack in my soul that light flooded into.
In to a place where I had never been or seen before. My heart softened that day in a place of concrete and steel. It felt like compassion.
It felt like after a hard rain and the sun breaks free. Everything all sparkly and clean.
That warm remembrance of a time gone by…
Thanks for reading.
J
Winds of Change
- May 27, 2008
A friend sent out today a beautifully written though very intense missive about our nation’s addiction to our current way of life - namely our perpetual thirst for oil and our rampant consumerism.
(Check it out: http://www.spiritrecovery.blogspot.com/ “The Game is up”). Nicely written Lee.
It got me to thinking about the ways in which we resist change, or in some cases welcome change. What’s the dynamic? What determines why we would resist or why we would embrace that simple word? Change. The American Heritage dictionary on my desk lists 7 different definitions which in my interpretation all boil down to mean - ain’t nothing staying the same baby. Change.
What does that word elicit inside each of us? What emotions does it give rise to? What happens when our beloved says “it’s time for a change?”, our boss calls us in and informs us of a “change coming?” What happens when Life let’s us know in usually not so subtle terms it’s time for a change? Why do we so often go kicking and screaming? What if the change that was about to occur was actually for the better? What if our experience was somehow going to be enhanced? Would we still cling so tightly to the way it is? Maybe not.
Why do we when all the signs are signaling it’s time for a change do we not follow them? Sometimes it’s our bodies letting us know something’s no longer right. And yet once we’re feeling better we go right back to the same old habit. Maybe it’s a relationship that isn’t feeling safe anymore and yet we keep playing there. Why do we so adamantly avoid change? What are we afraid of?
Is it a lack of alternatives? Maybe we know no other way. Maybe the known path even with all its inherent pitfalls is more comforting than taking a leap into the unknown. Maybe that new path is too frightening to contemplate.
For me, change has become like a dear old dependable friend. There to encourage me when needed, challenge me when I’m stuck, and to offer an alternative point of view when I’m hopeless. By now I’ve learned to welcome change. It’s never let me down.
So maybe now it is time to change our attitude. To change our point of view. To see in what way can we make a difference in the quality of Life we are living. Maybe we drive our cars less. Maybe the next acquisition isn’t about something we buy but something we feel. Maybe we are a little more patient with strangers. Maybe we laugh more with those we love. Maybe we believe in ourselves again. Wow, can you imagine?
The wind is blowing. Do you feel it? Change is gonna come. I plan to embrace it.
And you?
J
Small Dreams, Little Manifestations
- May 22, 2008
I’ve been observing the way I create lately and wondering why it’s on such a small scale. I’m not talking about the day to day creations, but the big picture creation. And no I don’t mean the “five year plan” or “ten year plan”. I mean the overall creation of the way I so strongly desire to live.
I put so much attention on those things I believe I need in the moment as if they’re a cure-all salve for my yearnings. And to some degree they are. But the real yearning encompasses all of the smaller yearnings and if I would only put my attention on that bigger picture desire I would ultimately be so much happier. For example how many of us think like this: if only I had a better job, or better car, or better relationship, or a better wardrobe, or a better motorcycle, I would finally be happy. I know my mind works in this way. It tricks me into thinking if I acquire one more “thing” I’ll attain that elusive serenity and peace of mind. In actuality I desire even more things after satisfying the original desire.
What about taking all that energy and focusing it on the most expansive desire we could conjure. What if all that beautiful energy went towards creating the most magnificent no-holds-barred dream for ourselves and humanity? In whatever way that expression may be for us, in whatever way we conceive of it? I’m not talking about the dream others projected on us. I’m talking about blowing away all the limiting beliefs that we personally have or that society says is possible and knowing deep inside that we are capable of manifesting whatever we desire. What’s holding us back? What’s holding me back?
What I observe in myself is I’m ok with the little intents, with the small dream of Jamie and his capabilities. Once upon a time I felt deep inside it was impossible to own my own home. I literally thought I would never achieve that. Now I write this blog from this large beautiful house that I own in a wonderful seaside community. How did this happen? I simply challenged that place inside of me that doubted. That place of limitation that was so ingrained in me.
Yet I still see that limitation exists in me. I’m content with dreaming the next construction project to get us by, to keep my crew busy. I’m happy trying to manifest another motorcycle which will go faster and farther. Yet I’m not addressing the real desire I have. The real dream of freedom and abundance. It’s not abundance if we have to borrow money to finance a desire. It’s not abundance to have to keep working hard to pay the bills. A million small desires satisfied doesn’t equal freedom.
I want to stop the little dreaming. I want to say adios to all the small manifestations.
I desire so strongly to dream big and watch the grand manifestation unfold…
To be so much more expansive than I believe possible.
And then share that with so many….
Giant steps taken. Giant manifestation gained.
Be big now. Let yourself dream as big as you dare. What do we have to lose?
J
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