New Website, New Business Model, New Attitude

Please visit me at my new site... andreamaurer.com
I can't wait to see you there!

Love, Shmee

Magic (or Lunacy...you choose)

I'm not sure I can adequately describe this week's events without sounding like a complete loon. And the even stranger thing is the realization that I still think there may be someone left out there that doesn't already think I'm a loon and also that I still might actually care.

Okay here goes... I have a daily ritual that I try to adhere to. I start off by reading a few tidbits that I receive via email (Seth, Notes from the Universe, Martha's Quote of the Day, etc.) along with a chapter of the Tao Te Ching (Steven Mitchell's version). I then spend a little time listing all the things for which I'm grateful and then I meditate for twenty minutes or until my hamster brain can't take it anymore, whichever comes first. (Can you guess which one usually comes first?) And then I write. I journal or blog or work on something for Creative Connections or, every once in a while, I try my hand at the ever-illusive book that I'm just sure would be a bestseller if I could ever figure out where and how to start the damn thing.

Anyway, the last couple of weeks have been a little strange. First of all, I've been surprisingly calm. I've been going about my business, enjoying my life and, like I wrote in my last post, I've been keeping busy answering the call to make room for whatever's coming. And something is definitely coming. I have no idea what it is but I can feel it. The whole thing reminds me of a quote I have hanging over my desk...

Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.
~ Arundhati Roy

Yeah. Just like that.

It's almost like I'm tiptoeing through my life. I've been very quiet and calm and deliberate. I'm in low gear. Coasting almost. This is not my usual modus operandi . Not even close. But that's how I've been. It's like some part of me doesn't want to do anything to scare off whatever's headed in this direction because it feels like it just might be something really good and God knows how long I've been waiting for something really good.

And just like the calm before the storm, everything's gotten really still and electrified and eerie.

Every single thing I've read or written each morning for close to two weeks has been super-connected in some way, shape or form and those things have led to other blogs, books and not-so-random serendipities apparently intended to further drive home whatever point God or The Universe or Frodo is trying to make on any given day. It's been so crazy for so long that I've become completely convinced that I'm on some cosmic version of Candid Camera. I just know any minute Buddha's going to jump out from behind my couch and yell, "Gotcha!" while laughing really hard and rubbing his big, round belly.

Tuesday, while reading and writing and meditating, I fell head-over-heals in love with my life. Seriously. I know it sounds completely nuts but all of a sudden I just got that love is all that matters. Like, I REALLY got it. Completely. And no sooner had that wave crashed over me, then my eyes landed square on another quote that seemed to appear out of nowhere in an open book that lay on my desk. A book, by the way, that I swear I never opened or even touched that day...

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.
~ Rumi

Oh, and I've got some barriers alright. No doubt about that. And now, for the first time ever, I realized that maybe I could simply choose to tear them down. Once and for all.

And just when I thought I had finally unlocked the secret to life and was prepared to do whatever necessary to concentrate on nothing more than loving and being loved, Tuck came home and we ended up getting into a huge argument over something as all-important as CUB SCOUTS! Really? So much for love being the only thing that matters...

The argument (turned full-blown fight) carried over into yesterday morning and before I knew it I was back to square one and wondering how in the hell I'd gotten there. I was so frustrated and exasperated that I barely went through the motions of my morning routine. I half-heartedly wrote down a few things and was prepared to spend my day watching one episode after another of Law and Order in my green and blue plaid, flannel bathrobe. Maybe I'd even throw in a quart of Moose Tracks for good measure.

I was distraught. It broke my heart to go from a day in which I had realized there’s nothing more important than love, to the next in which I was blatantly ignoring that fact.

I started to cry a little and pray. I told God I wanted him to take away my will to fight, to want and to struggle. I told him that I didn't care about anything anymore except being happy. "Just take it...", I said. "Please, just take it all away."

As I moved from praying to meditating, I kept repeating the phrase, Take It while focusing on the space between my eyes and letting the waves of calm and silence wash over me. Soon another voice, or rather several voices, chimed in with my own. Only they weren't chanting "Take It", they were saying, "She's ready". It was like a band of angels lobbying in my favor, trying to convince someone that I was indeed adequately prepared for whatever might be in store for me next.

On and on we all went, over and over, taking turns..... "Take it"... followed by... "She's ready". In the background, at the same time, part of me was hoping for one of those transformative, meditative experiences that you hear people talk about. Like Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love when she was certain that God had picked her up and held her in the palm of his hand. I wanted that. I wanted that moment that would suddenly fill me with some kind of certainty and understanding. I wanted the lightening bolt.

The chanting continued until we all reached a sort of crescendo. And then, all of a sudden, a very bright burst of white light flashed in front of my eyes, startling me and jerking me back into consciousness. It jolted me to my core, like a lightning bolt. I was tingling from my nose to my feet. When I opened my eyes, I realized that the flash was nothing more than the reflection of the bright sun off of a car passing right outside my window and my physical reaction nothing more than that of being abruptly startled awake.

I also knew that it was all much more than that.

Later that evening, Max and I sat in a restaurant having dinner after having done a bit of shopping. Out of the blue he started asking me a bunch of BIG questions... What did I want to do with my life? What’s the most important thing to me? What did I want to be when I was a kid? What would I regret not having done if I never did it? I had no real answers for him. I drew a complete blank. It was like being a stranger in my own head.

What do I want? Nothing. I want to write. That’s about it. That’s about the only answer I could come up with. What’s the most important thing to me? Love. My family. Being happy.

I want to be happy. That’s the phrase that kept coming to my mind. I want to be happy. I want to write. I’d regret nothing.

I felt like a bumbling idiot. I'm the Mom. I'm supposed to have good answers. These were flaky. In the end, he suggested I get a part-time job. Nice.

It took me until this morning to reflect back on that conversation and make the connection to my lightening bolt incident from yesterday morning... Could it really have worked? Do you think that God really took it all away? All the want and the fight and the struggle? Just like I asked? Do you think the angels convinced him that I was indeed ready? Was that the reason I didn't have any substantive answers for Max? Had I indeed become a blank slate? I guess only time will tell.

In the meantime, I certainly feel a bit empty. There’s that word again... empty, nothing. It’s not negative. It’s just a descriptor. I feel like my edges are a bit more rounded, that I'm a kinder and gentler version of my former self. Open. Receptive.

And then this... My Note From The Universe this morning...

O Captain, my Captain, our fearful trip is done. And now, dear Andrea, you're free at last; it's time to have some fun.

That sounds great, Universe. I'll have a plate of that.

Nothing

Six bags. Six, huge, black, plastic, trash bags. Econo-sized. So packed full that I could barely lift them into my van for transport to Goodwill.

Six. That's how many bags I filled with clothes, shoes and purses from my closet on Saturday. SIX BAGS! Seven, if you count the one filled with trash and other stuff too horrifying even for Goodwill.

It was not easy to let go of it all, despite the fact that every single article that landed in a bag was either in bad condition, tragically out of style or ill-fitting. I wore little of what was packed into that closet, especially since no longer having to don business attire on a daily basis.

It's not the individual items that were hard to part with. It was the false sense of security that having all those bad clothes gave me. It was a just in case thing. Just in case... I have to go to some event or... the weather turns or... I have to go get another job and... I don't have the money to buy something new.... I'd better hang on to this big pile of shit. Just in case.

It was a security blanket. A big, worn out, cheesy, scratchy, deeply-discounted security blanket.

One question determined whether each shoe, belt, jacket, blouse or trouser would stay or go..."How would I feel if I put this on and wore it out in public?" That one question made the whole process pretty easy. And once I got going there was no stopping me.

Now, there is more empty space in my closet than filled. There are more unused hangers than used. There are more vacant shelves than occupied. And that's okay. In fact it's better than okay. It's perfect.

My whole life right now seems to be one big purge. Something deep down inside is telling me to make room for what's coming. Clear out the old and prepare for the new. Themes of empty buckets and blank slates keep presenting themselves over and over again...

Can you remain unmoving until the right action arises by itself?

Risking the appearance of weakness, takes strength...

The master doesn’t seek fulfillment… Not seeking, not expecting, she is present, and can welcome all things.

Become nothing, and He'll turn you into everything.

Nothing. That's the word that keeps appearing. Over and over again. I hear the word nothing. Be nothing. Do nothing. I am enough. Just as I am. All is well.

It's so very hard for me to do nothing. I am a doer. I am inclined to snap into action. I pace. I flitter. I fix. I make the bed or pick up around the house. I put dishes away and fold clothes. I design a new website or fret about my video for Creativity 101. I must DO something.

It's fear that keeps me doing. Fear that doing nothing will result in nothing. And yet somehow, I know that this is what I must do right now. Become nothing. Make room. Clear space.

Everyday for as long as I can remember, I have prayed to be filled with inspiration that flows outward. Don't I need to be empty in order to be filled?

So I'm cleaning out closets, real ones and metaphoric. I'm making space. I'm becoming open and receptive. And each bursting bag that I haul to Goodwill or to the curb makes me feel that much more light and airy. Like an empty suitcase, ready for the next big adventure.

I have a print hanging above my desk by Brian Andreas. I think I've mentioned it here before. The image is one of an abstract woman. Beside her is a bag in which she is placing various items. The caption reads, "She left pieces of her life behind her everywhere she went. It's easier to feel the sunlight without them, she said."

Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.