“How do we change our beliefs?”
Last Saturday Daughter number two and I were driving away from Chevy’s Mexican restaurant in Portland Oregon when I asked that
question.
“I
have a problem believing my book will sell, “ I continued, maneuvering the Prius
onto an already full freeway. “We have a guardian at the door of our subconscious,
and when we say something like, “I’m going to sell a million books,” the
guardian throws it out.
“The voice in our head says, ‘What makes you
think that? You’ve never sold many before.’
“Every
time we try to get past the guardian, he counters our request.
“’You
can’t do that. You don’t have a great following. Your platform sucks, people
don’t need and don’t want another book. Besides people don’t read books
anymore. And they have better things to do with their money.’”
(Wow, what an obnoxious guardian.)
I know the first line of receiving is
believing that it’s possible. But, we ask, “How do we believe in the face of
conflicting evidence?”
Wise daughter countered: “Maybe you should
treat the Guardian like a water purifying system salesman.
“’I don’t want a water purifier,’ you say.”
“Just let me show you this one.”
“I don’t need a purifying system. “
“’Oh, you’ll like this one, and I need the
experience explaining it. It’s only take a minute.’”,
“I don’t have a minute.’”
“’Okay, half a minute.’”
“Just don’t take no for an answer,” she
says.
“Wow, what a concept, that just might work.”
Beat the Guardian at his own game.
We started laughing and remembering another
time at a Chevy’s restaurant. We were in Rancho Santa Fe, California.
Yes, I know much is accomplished with a glad
heart, and not having a charge on a request makes it easy to receive. When we really really really want something, the Guardian
comes out dressed in full battle regalia.
That day in Rancho Santa Fe,
having completed our meal, and with glad
hearts, we sat looking out a restaurant window talking about manifesting. Daughter
dear had been testing the concept of manifesting, that is putting out a request,
meditating on it, then waiting for it to show up. She had asked to see a purple
bear.
Within a day she saw a purple bear sticker
on the bumper of a car.
“Chances are,” I said, (I sound like the Guardian
here), “we couldn’t manifest a train here for there are no tracks.
Not a minute later, a big truck stopped for
a traffic light and was sitting right outside our window. A huge tan tarp
covered the back portion of the truck. The tarp was taunt, and neatly ratcheted
On
the side of that tarp written in big capital letters was one word: “TRANE.”
That bolled us over, and it has given us a
glad heart and a giggle every time we think of it.
Never believe anything is impossible.
P.S. Regarding Salespeople:
The ones that attempt to sell you inferior
merchandise, at an exorbitant price, something you don’t need and didn’t want are
con-artists.
A true
salesperson will assist you in the purchase of something you do want, or maybe
give you reasons why you ought to have it, and push you a little for as a buyer
we can always put off a purchase. “Tomorrow,”
we say, and we leave without the very thing we were looking for. We lost, and so
did the salesperson.
Think of it this way: You want a car, you
need a car, and you are looking for a car. The salesperson wants you to buy
from him—since he is in a competitive market, and relying on commissions to pay
the bills.
You trust him or her. She is nice; she
negotiates a good deal for you, so you buy.
A year later you are still driving your car,
it’s in good condition, and you’ve had no trouble with it, but the salesperson,
who depended on your commissions to pay the bills, has spent the money and has
nothing from your deal to show for it—except still being alive.
Who’s the winner here?
With our many house moves, I have lost the
original watercolor of the little green frog I painted long ago for my journal titled The Frog's Song. I found this copy in the innards of the
computer.
And I have titled my soon-to-be-released book, The Frog's Song.
