This site is dedicated to an experiment. What would happen to me if I decide to reveal my mind in public for 80 days as I attempt to create a new reality? Can a moment of transformation be accelerated if nothing remains hidden and all is explored? Below are two blogs totaling an 80-day journey into my greatest fears and insecurities, visions and dreams while I strip away old notions of who I thought I was and allow for a new me to be rediscovered. Please share your thoughts on these two blogs in the comments section. If you have a similar story to tell where you had a moment when everything changed and you became clear of your life’s purpose, please email me at supermaneffect@gmail.com. I would be honored to read your story and with your permission, include it in my book, The Superman Effect: Stories of the Moment When Everything Changes.
The Superman Effect Part I
First entry: http://supermaneffect.blogspot.com/2009/10/countdown-to-superman-effect-60-days.html
The Superman Effect Part II
First Entry: http://supermaneffect2.blogspot.com/2010/01/30-days-to-new-life-monday.html
About the Author:
Dennis was born in Lajas, Puerto Rico and grew up in the Bronx, New York. At the age of 16, Dennis moved to Boston, MA to attend Boston University's College of Fine Arts, earning a degree in Acting. After graduating in 1993, Dennis moved to Kansas City, MO and completed a Master of Fine Arts degree in Acting and Directing. The decision to make security his most cherished value took over and he left acting completely to learn how to use a computer and get an office job. He spent the past 12 years in sales, management and administration, earning an MBA in International Business. Simultaneously, his existence as a successful businessman was rivaled by a second life. That of a man who was in search of transformation, spending hours in prayer and meditation, experiencing extra sensory mystical and healing experiences, spiritual communication with the dying amidst a profound inner struggle to let go of resistance. On May 17, 2009, Dennis made the decision to embark on a career as a transformational author and speaker. In 2010, Dennis started a company called Metatransformations Consulting, Inc. in which he coaches individuals and groups on the principles of manifestation and dream fulfillment through the use of creative art techniques, intuitive healing and visualization. Dennis lives with his wife and two children in Denver, Colorado.
Contact Information:
Dennis Rodriguez
Writer
Intuitive Life Coach
Supermaneffect@gmail.com
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 29
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I had written in my first blog entry that I was searching for the answer to the one universal desire. I believe this desire is to be known by ourselves and others as we truly are. To allow for the space to speak and act from our truest selves without concern for whether we will be judged. My dad discovered the peace that follows late in his life; a life that ended on this earth with a perfection that always existed but that he was too afraid to see. All too often the moment when everything changes is born out of crisis- a tragic accident, a death of a loved one, an illness, when life throws us a curve ball that forces us to stop in our tracks and decide whether it is worth continuing to live attached to the ghosts of our past or to live surrendering to the present moment where the ego has given up the fight. If we have the tools to deal with surrendering to the present moment as perfect before a crisis, a new life emerges from the ashes of old thinking patterns.
These tools are now all around us. They are found in the inspired lives of so many who are letting go of needing to be esteemed and who are recognizing the extraordinary lives they have already led amidst a seemingly ordinary existence. These tools are found in changing our beliefs about our worthiness, in forgiving our greatest offender, in expanding our vision while daring to be disappointed and in slowing down our thinking enough to listen for guidance from within. The tools are found in truthfully living our desire to be known.
Every year during the holiday season, my wife and I watch the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. Near the end of the movie, George Bailey, after attempting to commit suicide had been given the gift of seeing what life would have been like had he never been born. The depravity that was present in his community because he never existed was rivaled only by his sense of loneliness and utter despair that no one- including his mother, wife and friends knew who he was. When he was allowed to go back into the world that included him in it, George ran into his friend Bert the cop, who now recognizes George. The human condition is captured on film through Jimmy Stewart’s delivery of:
“Do you know me, Bert?”
I have taken on this 80 day journey because I want everyone to know the real me. Through it all, I have gotten to know my Father and so many other beautiful human beings. Most importantly, I want you all to consider revealing your truest selves and living out the life you have always known is possible. Don’t wait. The moment is not in the future. The moment is now.
“Yet you know me, O LORD; you see me and test my thoughts about you. Drag them off like sheep to be butchered! Set them apart for the day of slaughter!”- Jeremiah 12:3
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I had written in my first blog entry that I was searching for the answer to the one universal desire. I believe this desire is to be known by ourselves and others as we truly are. To allow for the space to speak and act from our truest selves without concern for whether we will be judged. My dad discovered the peace that follows late in his life; a life that ended on this earth with a perfection that always existed but that he was too afraid to see. All too often the moment when everything changes is born out of crisis- a tragic accident, a death of a loved one, an illness, when life throws us a curve ball that forces us to stop in our tracks and decide whether it is worth continuing to live attached to the ghosts of our past or to live surrendering to the present moment where the ego has given up the fight. If we have the tools to deal with surrendering to the present moment as perfect before a crisis, a new life emerges from the ashes of old thinking patterns.
These tools are now all around us. They are found in the inspired lives of so many who are letting go of needing to be esteemed and who are recognizing the extraordinary lives they have already led amidst a seemingly ordinary existence. These tools are found in changing our beliefs about our worthiness, in forgiving our greatest offender, in expanding our vision while daring to be disappointed and in slowing down our thinking enough to listen for guidance from within. The tools are found in truthfully living our desire to be known.
Every year during the holiday season, my wife and I watch the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. Near the end of the movie, George Bailey, after attempting to commit suicide had been given the gift of seeing what life would have been like had he never been born. The depravity that was present in his community because he never existed was rivaled only by his sense of loneliness and utter despair that no one- including his mother, wife and friends knew who he was. When he was allowed to go back into the world that included him in it, George ran into his friend Bert the cop, who now recognizes George. The human condition is captured on film through Jimmy Stewart’s delivery of:
“Do you know me, Bert?”
I have taken on this 80 day journey because I want everyone to know the real me. Through it all, I have gotten to know my Father and so many other beautiful human beings. Most importantly, I want you all to consider revealing your truest selves and living out the life you have always known is possible. Don’t wait. The moment is not in the future. The moment is now.
“Yet you know me, O LORD; you see me and test my thoughts about you. Drag them off like sheep to be butchered! Set them apart for the day of slaughter!”- Jeremiah 12:3
Sunday, February 7, 2010
30 Days To A New Life: Day 28
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
A Puerto Rican couple starting a family in New York City in the late 1960’s was full of challenges that are foreign to the next generation. Most would say that is a good thing. That is as it should be but what are we to think of what our parents endured for us to have a better life? My parents arrived in New York following the third great wave of domestic migration (la gran migracion) of Puerto Ricans who moved to New York from 1952-1953. By this time, New York had established Puerto Rican neighborhoods but jobs were scarce, especially for the uneducated. My mother worked as a seamstress and my father could not initially find a job so he was sent by his aunt to the Job Corp. in Kentucky after working on a farm in Tampa , Florida for a summer. My father, who had 27 brothers and sisters from two mothers had been abandoned by his father at an early age and had lived with his step-father who was a life-time alcoholic.
He did share with my mother his regret for having hit his step-father when he was a teenager, but most of his regrets were kept to himself, festering inside to be revealed later as unrestrained anger towards us. He also had a second life but we were never to learn about it. It did not matter after he contracted HIV. I wondered how he got the disease. He was vehemently anti-drugs and alcohol, a trait that I am sure he acquired after seeing the damage that it did to many family members. He said he believed he acquired the disease through a blood transfusion. We had no reason to doubt him and how he got the disease became less and less important as we watched him valiantly endure its barrage.
Everything changed for my father the moment he was diagnosed. He was a humiliated man that had no choice but to face the prospect of an unhappy life cut short. He was always a man of prayer but now it was prayer without pride. He was losing his strength daily and with it his care of whether he impressed others. He began to apologize for all the wrong he did to us.
“Dennis, I just could not admit to my family that I was wrong. I was so wrong.”
He had nothing left to cling to and we watched as his ego dissolved into nothing. There was nowhere for him to stand that gave him security. He could not be attached to the life that he created because that life was coming to an end. After his ego and his past had left him, he began to show his true nature- a caring, loving, sincere man whose only work in life was to be present, here and now. The present moment was all he had. The masks were gone, the anger was gone, the fight was over, all he could do is show up every day until he didn’t. He became the most beautiful human being I have ever known.
Could the moment have come sooner? Could I have gotten to know that beautiful human being earlier?
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
A Puerto Rican couple starting a family in New York City in the late 1960’s was full of challenges that are foreign to the next generation. Most would say that is a good thing. That is as it should be but what are we to think of what our parents endured for us to have a better life? My parents arrived in New York following the third great wave of domestic migration (la gran migracion) of Puerto Ricans who moved to New York from 1952-1953. By this time, New York had established Puerto Rican neighborhoods but jobs were scarce, especially for the uneducated. My mother worked as a seamstress and my father could not initially find a job so he was sent by his aunt to the Job Corp. in Kentucky after working on a farm in Tampa , Florida for a summer. My father, who had 27 brothers and sisters from two mothers had been abandoned by his father at an early age and had lived with his step-father who was a life-time alcoholic.
He did share with my mother his regret for having hit his step-father when he was a teenager, but most of his regrets were kept to himself, festering inside to be revealed later as unrestrained anger towards us. He also had a second life but we were never to learn about it. It did not matter after he contracted HIV. I wondered how he got the disease. He was vehemently anti-drugs and alcohol, a trait that I am sure he acquired after seeing the damage that it did to many family members. He said he believed he acquired the disease through a blood transfusion. We had no reason to doubt him and how he got the disease became less and less important as we watched him valiantly endure its barrage.
Everything changed for my father the moment he was diagnosed. He was a humiliated man that had no choice but to face the prospect of an unhappy life cut short. He was always a man of prayer but now it was prayer without pride. He was losing his strength daily and with it his care of whether he impressed others. He began to apologize for all the wrong he did to us.
“Dennis, I just could not admit to my family that I was wrong. I was so wrong.”
He had nothing left to cling to and we watched as his ego dissolved into nothing. There was nowhere for him to stand that gave him security. He could not be attached to the life that he created because that life was coming to an end. After his ego and his past had left him, he began to show his true nature- a caring, loving, sincere man whose only work in life was to be present, here and now. The present moment was all he had. The masks were gone, the anger was gone, the fight was over, all he could do is show up every day until he didn’t. He became the most beautiful human being I have ever known.
Could the moment have come sooner? Could I have gotten to know that beautiful human being earlier?
Saturday, February 6, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 27
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I don’t think anyone in my family knew how much I was teased as a young child. I couldn’t play stickball or skellies without having an older teenager from the block blurt out, “You’re dad walks like a faggot.” So the choice was to stay home and not play, confront the bigger kids or ignore them and keep it all inside. I chose to ignore it hoping that someday they would just stop. They never stopped. If I went home, odds were good that there would be a yelling match. If I stayed outside, I was in for the bullying hour.
My best escape came when my dad would take me to his work on Saturdays. It was just him and I. He worked as a cashier at the Bronx Terminal Food Markets. We would get up early in the morning to catch the short subway ride and be there by 6 am. Those were the happiest moments of my childhood. Him and I were the only ones on this planet as we walked down Grand Concourse to take the D train to 161st Street. The Market was right by Yankee Stadium and it was almost as good as seeing a game with my dad, which we never did. I still felt like a champ walking with my dad. He would take great care of me. He would make sure everyone knew that I was his son and his co-workers would bring me treats and money. I welcomed both.
The only unpleasant person was my dad’s boss. I noticed that he was very rude to my dad and I was surprised that my dad would not stick up for himself. Even then it hit me; my dad let out feelings at home that he was afraid to let out at work. He was the only one working and without a college degree, he could not lose his job. Providing for his family was his purpose in life. He did not have the tools to realize that the best thing he could provide was happiness.
Seeing possibilities and choosing happiness over fear was tough for my dad to do in the 70’s Bronx as a first generation Puerto Rican. I remember wondering “why do we have to have rice with warm milk for dinner again?” We had very little money that’s why. My mother took care of my three sisters and I and my father brought home the pernil. (as close as I could get to bacon in Spanish- a shoulder of pork.) How poor we really were, I will never know.
One night when I was seven, my sisters and I overheard an argument between my dad and my mom where he said we were going to get evicted if he did not come up with the rent money. He was yelling at my mom for spending too much money on something. The rent was $300 a month and he claimed not to be anywhere close to having enough. The four of us called a board meeting with my oldest sister as CEO.
“We have to do something.” She said. “Any ideas?”
“Not me.”
“Me neither.”
“Nothing”
My oldest sister knew she would need to take the lead. “We should have a garage sale and sell our toys.”
We all agreed without a hint of hesitation. Our parents let us go through with it and we sold most of our toys making $75. I kept my Superman and Darth Vader action figures and I’m sure my sisters kept some of their favorites. We were so worried we did not make enough money and we would be out on the street.
We did not get evicted. I’ve always wondered whether my dad had blown the whole “not having enough money” drama out of proportion. Saying “I can’t afford it” was our family motto as was one of the oddest and most destructive global beliefs I have ever heard: “Careful not to laugh too much or have too much fun. It means that bad fortune is right around the corner.” Fear was rampant in our environment but so was love. Through all the dysfunction, there was a sense by all of us that this family would overcome every obstacle and ensure a life that was drug and crime-free with the highest of educational accomplishments by us children. If we were born to be light workers then nothing was going to stand in our way. I know that my parents believed in our ability to succeed in life. They just gave up on their own ability to do the same.
So my dad let his boss treat him like dirt and internalized his responses letting them fester until he got home. I don’t condone the choices that he made, but I don’t judge them either. He did not have the tools to learn self-love. I would later learn that his repressed feelings about his boss were just the tip of the iceberg. His self-hatred was so profound that it could only be caused by so shameful a shadow side in his eyes. One that would have to kill him before he would reveal it-through me.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I don’t think anyone in my family knew how much I was teased as a young child. I couldn’t play stickball or skellies without having an older teenager from the block blurt out, “You’re dad walks like a faggot.” So the choice was to stay home and not play, confront the bigger kids or ignore them and keep it all inside. I chose to ignore it hoping that someday they would just stop. They never stopped. If I went home, odds were good that there would be a yelling match. If I stayed outside, I was in for the bullying hour.
My best escape came when my dad would take me to his work on Saturdays. It was just him and I. He worked as a cashier at the Bronx Terminal Food Markets. We would get up early in the morning to catch the short subway ride and be there by 6 am. Those were the happiest moments of my childhood. Him and I were the only ones on this planet as we walked down Grand Concourse to take the D train to 161st Street. The Market was right by Yankee Stadium and it was almost as good as seeing a game with my dad, which we never did. I still felt like a champ walking with my dad. He would take great care of me. He would make sure everyone knew that I was his son and his co-workers would bring me treats and money. I welcomed both.
The only unpleasant person was my dad’s boss. I noticed that he was very rude to my dad and I was surprised that my dad would not stick up for himself. Even then it hit me; my dad let out feelings at home that he was afraid to let out at work. He was the only one working and without a college degree, he could not lose his job. Providing for his family was his purpose in life. He did not have the tools to realize that the best thing he could provide was happiness.
Seeing possibilities and choosing happiness over fear was tough for my dad to do in the 70’s Bronx as a first generation Puerto Rican. I remember wondering “why do we have to have rice with warm milk for dinner again?” We had very little money that’s why. My mother took care of my three sisters and I and my father brought home the pernil. (as close as I could get to bacon in Spanish- a shoulder of pork.) How poor we really were, I will never know.
One night when I was seven, my sisters and I overheard an argument between my dad and my mom where he said we were going to get evicted if he did not come up with the rent money. He was yelling at my mom for spending too much money on something. The rent was $300 a month and he claimed not to be anywhere close to having enough. The four of us called a board meeting with my oldest sister as CEO.
“We have to do something.” She said. “Any ideas?”
“Not me.”
“Me neither.”
“Nothing”
My oldest sister knew she would need to take the lead. “We should have a garage sale and sell our toys.”
We all agreed without a hint of hesitation. Our parents let us go through with it and we sold most of our toys making $75. I kept my Superman and Darth Vader action figures and I’m sure my sisters kept some of their favorites. We were so worried we did not make enough money and we would be out on the street.
We did not get evicted. I’ve always wondered whether my dad had blown the whole “not having enough money” drama out of proportion. Saying “I can’t afford it” was our family motto as was one of the oddest and most destructive global beliefs I have ever heard: “Careful not to laugh too much or have too much fun. It means that bad fortune is right around the corner.” Fear was rampant in our environment but so was love. Through all the dysfunction, there was a sense by all of us that this family would overcome every obstacle and ensure a life that was drug and crime-free with the highest of educational accomplishments by us children. If we were born to be light workers then nothing was going to stand in our way. I know that my parents believed in our ability to succeed in life. They just gave up on their own ability to do the same.
So my dad let his boss treat him like dirt and internalized his responses letting them fester until he got home. I don’t condone the choices that he made, but I don’t judge them either. He did not have the tools to learn self-love. I would later learn that his repressed feelings about his boss were just the tip of the iceberg. His self-hatred was so profound that it could only be caused by so shameful a shadow side in his eyes. One that would have to kill him before he would reveal it-through me.
Friday, February 5, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 26
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I am not feeling well. My mouth is still swollen and now my choices are drink my morning coffee which, mixed with the antibiotics makes me nauseas or do without coffee and suffer through a massive headache. Pain medication doesn’t seem to help. All I could do is ride this out- sit with what comes up and let it discharge. I can’t go negative. Not now. Not after all I’ve written about. I know there is light; I just can’t see it this moment.
Psalm 23 talks about having to “walk through a valley of the shadow of death.” Does there have to be one? Do we have to walk through a dark night of the soul to be released from our own prison? Why can’t we just bust the doors open and be free? I remember hearing about the intense struggles of a caterpillar in a cocoon to free itself. Every bit of effort was not only needed but required for the caterpillar to turn into a butterfly. If we tried to help it by slicing the cocoon open, the caterpillar wouldn’t survive much less undergo metamorphoses. So my intense struggles with memories of pain are needed for the Superman Effect to be born. I can’t ignore them and no one can take them away. I take comfort in the knowledge that I am no longer the 10 year old kid that did not have the tools or the capacity to deal with what comes up, and handle the memories that traumatized me as a child. My mother in law’s last question to me before she passed continues to ring in my head:
“Are you ready?”
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I am not feeling well. My mouth is still swollen and now my choices are drink my morning coffee which, mixed with the antibiotics makes me nauseas or do without coffee and suffer through a massive headache. Pain medication doesn’t seem to help. All I could do is ride this out- sit with what comes up and let it discharge. I can’t go negative. Not now. Not after all I’ve written about. I know there is light; I just can’t see it this moment.
Psalm 23 talks about having to “walk through a valley of the shadow of death.” Does there have to be one? Do we have to walk through a dark night of the soul to be released from our own prison? Why can’t we just bust the doors open and be free? I remember hearing about the intense struggles of a caterpillar in a cocoon to free itself. Every bit of effort was not only needed but required for the caterpillar to turn into a butterfly. If we tried to help it by slicing the cocoon open, the caterpillar wouldn’t survive much less undergo metamorphoses. So my intense struggles with memories of pain are needed for the Superman Effect to be born. I can’t ignore them and no one can take them away. I take comfort in the knowledge that I am no longer the 10 year old kid that did not have the tools or the capacity to deal with what comes up, and handle the memories that traumatized me as a child. My mother in law’s last question to me before she passed continues to ring in my head:
“Are you ready?”
Thursday, February 4, 2010
30 Days to A New Life- Day 25
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
My wife told me a story of a client of hers who revealed her passion to work in hospice care. Because of preconceived ideas on what was the best and most legitimate way to get there, she enrolled in nursing school. She could not however pass her exams and complete the program. She realized that going through nursing school was not a journey she wanted to take at this stage in her life. Should she quit following her dream? As she explored the reasons why she wanted to work in hospice, it was clear that she wanted to serve and give hope to others. My wife suggested she look at another medium directly in hospice care facilities to accomplish the same goal.
Just like a painter has a variety of different mediums to use for creative exploration, every job has the potential to lead one to fulfillment. The beauty of taking the time to do inner work is that once you let go of your fears and blocks, you have an empty canvas to work out of. The next step is to experiment with different materials and find out work best for you. Not just what will be most pleasing to most people, but what resonates with You. Sometimes we are surprised that life has brought us to materials for our art that we would never in a million years think would work. Like picking up garbage for example:
“A life size statue of John Breaux was unveiled at the newly dedicated John Breaux memorial plaza. Breaux was killed a year ago when he was struck by a car while picking up trash along highway 287. He was known for his warm nature, random acts of kindness, and the bike he rode while picking up trash around east Boulder County. His family members were overwhelmed by the community outpouring at the dedication. ‘This community meant everything to him and in turn now he means everything to this community just his kindness his smile people just appreciate the little things in life and he has taught us how to be more like that," says relative Laurie Bright.’”- KDVR Denver
I have decided to take the stuff of my life and consciously see it as my vehicle for happiness and service. By stuff I mean growing up in the Bronx with its share of societal and family dysfunction, escaping New York to become an actor, marrying young, learning to get an office job and working my way up the corporate ladder while always being the eternal student. I did ending wash at McDonalds, stocked lettuce at C-Town Supermarket as well as books at Barnes and Noble. I filed papers at World Trade Center- Tower 2, and dug trenches all summer long to install sprinkler systems under 100 degree humidity in Kansas City. By stuff I also mean visiting the dying to console them in their last hours, counseling spirits that have crossed over to forgive themselves and recognize the light, listening to wisdom in all its forms- from the mouth of unborn babes to the pen of my buddy Wayne, and now writing down for the first time what I believe I have heard. I’m using it all. If any of my stuff was an accident, then they were useful accidents. I can choose to regret the parts that felt boring, difficult or full of suffering or I can choose to see the lessons in all experiences and have no regrets. I choose no regrets.
We all have an amazing story to tell. Our path to happiness is to set aside our limiting stories and share the higher lessons we have learned from our earthly curriculum perfectly designed uniquely by us and for us. The really cool thing is we can start the sharing at any moment. By the way, you don’t have to write it out for it to be shared; all you have to do is live it out.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
My wife told me a story of a client of hers who revealed her passion to work in hospice care. Because of preconceived ideas on what was the best and most legitimate way to get there, she enrolled in nursing school. She could not however pass her exams and complete the program. She realized that going through nursing school was not a journey she wanted to take at this stage in her life. Should she quit following her dream? As she explored the reasons why she wanted to work in hospice, it was clear that she wanted to serve and give hope to others. My wife suggested she look at another medium directly in hospice care facilities to accomplish the same goal.
Just like a painter has a variety of different mediums to use for creative exploration, every job has the potential to lead one to fulfillment. The beauty of taking the time to do inner work is that once you let go of your fears and blocks, you have an empty canvas to work out of. The next step is to experiment with different materials and find out work best for you. Not just what will be most pleasing to most people, but what resonates with You. Sometimes we are surprised that life has brought us to materials for our art that we would never in a million years think would work. Like picking up garbage for example:
“A life size statue of John Breaux was unveiled at the newly dedicated John Breaux memorial plaza. Breaux was killed a year ago when he was struck by a car while picking up trash along highway 287. He was known for his warm nature, random acts of kindness, and the bike he rode while picking up trash around east Boulder County. His family members were overwhelmed by the community outpouring at the dedication. ‘This community meant everything to him and in turn now he means everything to this community just his kindness his smile people just appreciate the little things in life and he has taught us how to be more like that," says relative Laurie Bright.’”- KDVR Denver
I have decided to take the stuff of my life and consciously see it as my vehicle for happiness and service. By stuff I mean growing up in the Bronx with its share of societal and family dysfunction, escaping New York to become an actor, marrying young, learning to get an office job and working my way up the corporate ladder while always being the eternal student. I did ending wash at McDonalds, stocked lettuce at C-Town Supermarket as well as books at Barnes and Noble. I filed papers at World Trade Center- Tower 2, and dug trenches all summer long to install sprinkler systems under 100 degree humidity in Kansas City. By stuff I also mean visiting the dying to console them in their last hours, counseling spirits that have crossed over to forgive themselves and recognize the light, listening to wisdom in all its forms- from the mouth of unborn babes to the pen of my buddy Wayne, and now writing down for the first time what I believe I have heard. I’m using it all. If any of my stuff was an accident, then they were useful accidents. I can choose to regret the parts that felt boring, difficult or full of suffering or I can choose to see the lessons in all experiences and have no regrets. I choose no regrets.
We all have an amazing story to tell. Our path to happiness is to set aside our limiting stories and share the higher lessons we have learned from our earthly curriculum perfectly designed uniquely by us and for us. The really cool thing is we can start the sharing at any moment. By the way, you don’t have to write it out for it to be shared; all you have to do is live it out.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 24
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I feel nauseous. I developed an infection after a dental procedure five days ago and now have swelling and a sizable pocket of pus in my gums. Sometimes an infection is just an infection, but being seven days away from completing this 80-day public visualization to manifestation process, I can’t help but see this discomfort as timely purging reflecting painful memories that are surfacing in the last days of this blog. I feel anxious and vulnerable. I have no control over how this process will end. It feels like it has been predetermined by someone else and I am just living out the final pages.
The final play that my father saw me in was a Russian tragicomedy called The Lower Depths. Making the trip from New York to Boston for him and my mom was no easy task. He had been made extremely weak and nauseous from the daily HIV drug cocktail. My brother in law transported my father in a van that was large enough for him to lie down during the 5-hour ride.
Everyone felt that this would likely be the last time he would see me act in a play so all precautions were taken to get him to the theatre safely, including a doctor and nurse that joined him from New York. Having my father see his son perform in college was a big deal for the Rodriguez family and a major sacrifice in my honor. I was just hoping he would stay awake during the show. My character, Bubnov, was on stage for most of the play but said very little. Just as well. It gave me an opportunity to continually peak into the audience looking for him when I thought all eyes were on someone else.
After the performance, I went out into the house and asked him what he thought.
“I liked you better in Grease.” He said half-smiling
I laughed. “Papy, that was a high school play. This is college.”
“I know, but I really liked you in Grease.”
Of course he did. I played Danny Zuko which was equivalent to playing his 70’s twin dance brother, John Travolta!
We got to my apartment and my family did not waste any time packing up to head back to New York. I understood. He saw his son. My mother came out of my bedroom with a container carrying 12 medicine bottles. The image of my mother standing there holding my father’s life support, made my heart sink. I noticed that my father was watching my reaction. What do I say? Nothing.
How do we say goodbye? I can’t.
With tears in his eyes, he broke the silence:
“Do you need money for a new coat?”
This time it was my heart that had broken. I was five years old again. He wanted to take away my pain. He wanted to be a father but in his terminal state all he could do is offer me a symbol of dependency-money. It was a beautiful moment. He just wanted to feel useful. I did not respond with words. I just turned, gave him a kiss and hugged him goodbye. He left my apartment wiping his eyes. I turned to my mother and all she could say before leaving was: “No esta bien.” He is not well.
I was ripped apart by the moment. Did I deserve him sacrificing his health and comfort to see me perform one last time? He wanted to somehow be a dad, to give me money so that I can be kept warm but for some reason, I did not let him. There was no sign of his ego. AIDS had claimed it a long time ago. All that was left was a naked purified man-one who was not well.
I drank until I could cry, called my best friend to keep me company as I attempted to purge myself of guilt and shame. That was 18 years ago and I here I am- feeling nauseous.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I feel nauseous. I developed an infection after a dental procedure five days ago and now have swelling and a sizable pocket of pus in my gums. Sometimes an infection is just an infection, but being seven days away from completing this 80-day public visualization to manifestation process, I can’t help but see this discomfort as timely purging reflecting painful memories that are surfacing in the last days of this blog. I feel anxious and vulnerable. I have no control over how this process will end. It feels like it has been predetermined by someone else and I am just living out the final pages.
The final play that my father saw me in was a Russian tragicomedy called The Lower Depths. Making the trip from New York to Boston for him and my mom was no easy task. He had been made extremely weak and nauseous from the daily HIV drug cocktail. My brother in law transported my father in a van that was large enough for him to lie down during the 5-hour ride.
Everyone felt that this would likely be the last time he would see me act in a play so all precautions were taken to get him to the theatre safely, including a doctor and nurse that joined him from New York. Having my father see his son perform in college was a big deal for the Rodriguez family and a major sacrifice in my honor. I was just hoping he would stay awake during the show. My character, Bubnov, was on stage for most of the play but said very little. Just as well. It gave me an opportunity to continually peak into the audience looking for him when I thought all eyes were on someone else.
After the performance, I went out into the house and asked him what he thought.
“I liked you better in Grease.” He said half-smiling
I laughed. “Papy, that was a high school play. This is college.”
“I know, but I really liked you in Grease.”
Of course he did. I played Danny Zuko which was equivalent to playing his 70’s twin dance brother, John Travolta!
We got to my apartment and my family did not waste any time packing up to head back to New York. I understood. He saw his son. My mother came out of my bedroom with a container carrying 12 medicine bottles. The image of my mother standing there holding my father’s life support, made my heart sink. I noticed that my father was watching my reaction. What do I say? Nothing.
How do we say goodbye? I can’t.
With tears in his eyes, he broke the silence:
“Do you need money for a new coat?”
This time it was my heart that had broken. I was five years old again. He wanted to take away my pain. He wanted to be a father but in his terminal state all he could do is offer me a symbol of dependency-money. It was a beautiful moment. He just wanted to feel useful. I did not respond with words. I just turned, gave him a kiss and hugged him goodbye. He left my apartment wiping his eyes. I turned to my mother and all she could say before leaving was: “No esta bien.” He is not well.
I was ripped apart by the moment. Did I deserve him sacrificing his health and comfort to see me perform one last time? He wanted to somehow be a dad, to give me money so that I can be kept warm but for some reason, I did not let him. There was no sign of his ego. AIDS had claimed it a long time ago. All that was left was a naked purified man-one who was not well.
I drank until I could cry, called my best friend to keep me company as I attempted to purge myself of guilt and shame. That was 18 years ago and I here I am- feeling nauseous.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
30 Days To New Life- Day 23
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Before Vincent Van Gogh had any thoughts of becoming an artist-having believed that his life’s path would be that of a clergyman, and while writing a letter to his brother in Holland, he looked out the window and noticed a beautiful scene before him. He saw twilight in London, a single shining star and a lamppost. He was compelled to draw what he was observing and send the drawing to his brother with the letter. This was the drawing that gave birth to an artist.
At five years of age, Albert Einsten passed the time while recuperating from a fever, tinkering with a compass that his father had bought him. He noticed that no matter how much he rattled it, the needle continued to point north. He wondered what was making the needle always point in the same direction. This curiosity activated a passion to explain life’s invisible forces. Later in life, Einsten would say “I can still remember, or at least I believe I can remember- that this experience made a deep and abiding impression on me.”
We are all on a journey where moments of awakening to our life’s work are certain to arrive. The activation of the moment lies dormant in us waiting for the right time, circumstances and readiness to reveal itself and have the greatest impact on our lives.
Lately, it seems like everything around me speaks to this Kairos or appointed moment outside of ordinary time. Now it is true that what you focus on, you attract. If you focus on the color green, you will suddenly notice green all around you; however, this awareness of what I call the Superman Effect feels different. There is a confluence of thought regarding transformation in all disciplines. Interest in transformation is no longer reserved for the spiritually-inclined. Books like Blink and Mindsight are illustrating that many from the world of popular psychology have taken a keen interest in the gap between cognitive thoughts where intuition flourishes and our perceptions of life are forever altered for our highest good. Science is also gaining consensus around the concept of-all indeed being one- separated only by the rational mind. We are reminded in Ervin Lazslo’s book Science and the Akashic Field that this sense of separation lays at the heart of the fall of man.
“While in the primordial condition humans possessed an instinctive knowledge of the sacred unity and profound interconnectedness of the world, a deep schism arose between humankind and the rest of reality with the ascendance of the rational mind.”
Even Hollywood is cashing in like never before with movies like Avatar which depict this sacred network of energy in 3D.
This convergence of chatter about the moment when everything changes in our culture is not driven by a collective desire to find enlightenment or ascension. We are not making this happen. Like so many autonomic processes, it is happening to us. The difference is this time, we are paying attention. We are recognizing the futility of looking for happiness by thinking our way to bliss. We don’t want to be drugged into a life of complacency and are feeling activated to shed what has not been working- Fearing our way through life is not working. Ignoring the good that is all around us is not working. Like Mork from Ork said to Ritchie Cunningham in Happy Days: living a “hum drum” life is not working for any of us. We know this. We came into this world knowing that life is full of opportunities and our work was to see-ize them. Our karmic playground is 10.5% unemployment, higher violence and despair than two years ago, and retirement accounts that have lost much of their value. Yet no matter how hopeless our world seems right now, when the moment arrives that activates a passion for life; we do not have a choice but to follow it wherever it leads us.
My book will be the tipping point. I have left my job at the most inauspicious time to follow my true life’s path. I have revealed the real me to all who want to see. I have dared to dream not just of a better tomorrow, but of a better now and in the process have found freedom through forgiveness. Nelson Mandela understood the power of forgiveness to lift a nation. Forgiveness was his key out of prison and he used the same key to free his homeland. The forgiveness that will lift our great country from its present malaise is one of self-forgiveness. We can choose to learn from the lessons of our past however violent, racially unjust and full of greed. I heard from a Jewish man who lauds the late Pope John Paul II for having the courage to ask forgiveness for 2000 years of mistreatment by the Church and call the Jewish people his spiritual brothers. Pope John Paul II understood the healing power of forgiveness and that the Church needed this healing perhaps even more than the Jewish people. We can forgive ourselves for getting too fat and over-consuming. We can also forgive ourselves for the sins of our fathers.
The spirits have taught me the weakening power of guilt to hide our higher selves. Guilt blinds us to our true purpose. I believe in taking personal responsibility for our actions, what I think we can do without is self-condemnation. I do not believe we have a God that is interested in condemning or judging us. I know this is hard to accept for some after thousands of years living with stories of God as Judge. That is because the opposite of “if you focus on what is green you will see more of what’s green” is also true: You can choose to filter out anything that does not agree with your world view- no matter how apparent it is to others.
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.- Luke 6:37
“Woman [to are adulteress], where are they, has no one condemned you? No one, Lord. And Jesus said, neither do I condemn you.”- John 8:11
"As for the person who hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge him. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save it.” John 12:47
For my part, I have been shown centuries of self-condemnation in my Puerto Rican lineage. Some of what I have seen is horrific and condemnation is understandable. The responsibility that I feel is to break the cycle of guilt, shame and destructive behavior thus freeing my ancestors from their prison. All logical indications were that I would follow in their footsteps. Drunkenness and wife-beating were found in the homes of many of my relatives. Depression and tragic deaths have also been all too common. But something was activated in me to be the one to say yes to the goodness in humanity and turn the tide of violence precipitated by self-hatred. That something is in all of us.
I spoke on the phone with my 11 year old little brother from Big Brothers Big Sisters today. He told me his dad who is out of prison has not been yelling at him when they see each other lately.
“You know you are not going to be that way with your family.”
“I know Dennis. I know.”
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Before Vincent Van Gogh had any thoughts of becoming an artist-having believed that his life’s path would be that of a clergyman, and while writing a letter to his brother in Holland, he looked out the window and noticed a beautiful scene before him. He saw twilight in London, a single shining star and a lamppost. He was compelled to draw what he was observing and send the drawing to his brother with the letter. This was the drawing that gave birth to an artist.
At five years of age, Albert Einsten passed the time while recuperating from a fever, tinkering with a compass that his father had bought him. He noticed that no matter how much he rattled it, the needle continued to point north. He wondered what was making the needle always point in the same direction. This curiosity activated a passion to explain life’s invisible forces. Later in life, Einsten would say “I can still remember, or at least I believe I can remember- that this experience made a deep and abiding impression on me.”
We are all on a journey where moments of awakening to our life’s work are certain to arrive. The activation of the moment lies dormant in us waiting for the right time, circumstances and readiness to reveal itself and have the greatest impact on our lives.
Lately, it seems like everything around me speaks to this Kairos or appointed moment outside of ordinary time. Now it is true that what you focus on, you attract. If you focus on the color green, you will suddenly notice green all around you; however, this awareness of what I call the Superman Effect feels different. There is a confluence of thought regarding transformation in all disciplines. Interest in transformation is no longer reserved for the spiritually-inclined. Books like Blink and Mindsight are illustrating that many from the world of popular psychology have taken a keen interest in the gap between cognitive thoughts where intuition flourishes and our perceptions of life are forever altered for our highest good. Science is also gaining consensus around the concept of-all indeed being one- separated only by the rational mind. We are reminded in Ervin Lazslo’s book Science and the Akashic Field that this sense of separation lays at the heart of the fall of man.
“While in the primordial condition humans possessed an instinctive knowledge of the sacred unity and profound interconnectedness of the world, a deep schism arose between humankind and the rest of reality with the ascendance of the rational mind.”
Even Hollywood is cashing in like never before with movies like Avatar which depict this sacred network of energy in 3D.
This convergence of chatter about the moment when everything changes in our culture is not driven by a collective desire to find enlightenment or ascension. We are not making this happen. Like so many autonomic processes, it is happening to us. The difference is this time, we are paying attention. We are recognizing the futility of looking for happiness by thinking our way to bliss. We don’t want to be drugged into a life of complacency and are feeling activated to shed what has not been working- Fearing our way through life is not working. Ignoring the good that is all around us is not working. Like Mork from Ork said to Ritchie Cunningham in Happy Days: living a “hum drum” life is not working for any of us. We know this. We came into this world knowing that life is full of opportunities and our work was to see-ize them. Our karmic playground is 10.5% unemployment, higher violence and despair than two years ago, and retirement accounts that have lost much of their value. Yet no matter how hopeless our world seems right now, when the moment arrives that activates a passion for life; we do not have a choice but to follow it wherever it leads us.
My book will be the tipping point. I have left my job at the most inauspicious time to follow my true life’s path. I have revealed the real me to all who want to see. I have dared to dream not just of a better tomorrow, but of a better now and in the process have found freedom through forgiveness. Nelson Mandela understood the power of forgiveness to lift a nation. Forgiveness was his key out of prison and he used the same key to free his homeland. The forgiveness that will lift our great country from its present malaise is one of self-forgiveness. We can choose to learn from the lessons of our past however violent, racially unjust and full of greed. I heard from a Jewish man who lauds the late Pope John Paul II for having the courage to ask forgiveness for 2000 years of mistreatment by the Church and call the Jewish people his spiritual brothers. Pope John Paul II understood the healing power of forgiveness and that the Church needed this healing perhaps even more than the Jewish people. We can forgive ourselves for getting too fat and over-consuming. We can also forgive ourselves for the sins of our fathers.
The spirits have taught me the weakening power of guilt to hide our higher selves. Guilt blinds us to our true purpose. I believe in taking personal responsibility for our actions, what I think we can do without is self-condemnation. I do not believe we have a God that is interested in condemning or judging us. I know this is hard to accept for some after thousands of years living with stories of God as Judge. That is because the opposite of “if you focus on what is green you will see more of what’s green” is also true: You can choose to filter out anything that does not agree with your world view- no matter how apparent it is to others.
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.- Luke 6:37
“Woman [to are adulteress], where are they, has no one condemned you? No one, Lord. And Jesus said, neither do I condemn you.”- John 8:11
"As for the person who hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge him. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save it.” John 12:47
For my part, I have been shown centuries of self-condemnation in my Puerto Rican lineage. Some of what I have seen is horrific and condemnation is understandable. The responsibility that I feel is to break the cycle of guilt, shame and destructive behavior thus freeing my ancestors from their prison. All logical indications were that I would follow in their footsteps. Drunkenness and wife-beating were found in the homes of many of my relatives. Depression and tragic deaths have also been all too common. But something was activated in me to be the one to say yes to the goodness in humanity and turn the tide of violence precipitated by self-hatred. That something is in all of us.
I spoke on the phone with my 11 year old little brother from Big Brothers Big Sisters today. He told me his dad who is out of prison has not been yelling at him when they see each other lately.
“You know you are not going to be that way with your family.”
“I know Dennis. I know.”
Monday, February 1, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 22
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
How do I begin to change everything?
I used to think that the only way I could be free was if I tackled head on the major fears in my life: Fear of death, fear of failure and success, of turning out like my dad, of being inadequate-especially in the eyes of my wife.
12 years ago, I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome. This was the conclusion my doctor drew when he assessed all my symptoms: debilitating fatigue, allergic reactions to dairy/yeast/ gluten, depression, stomach pain and a liver panel that revealed my alkaline level to be much higher than normal. I was put on Elavil, an anti-depressant and watched as the doctor raised the dosage every week beginning at 30 until it reached 200 milligrams. Healing felt like such an uphill battle. I intuitively knew that drugs were not going to address my core issues but I had no tools to even know how to begin to get all fixed up. Moving to Colorado was a great first step. With sun more than 300 days out of the year, I had the environment on the side of a cheerful me. When I reached 200 milligrams, I made the decision to command my doctor to wean me off of Elavil. I told him I would have to find another way.
His advice: “You can always try meditating?”
I had never meditated before and thought that sounds too simplistic a prescription for so complex a condition.
In his book, The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell examines the reasons why New York’s crime rate had dropped so suddenly in the 1990’s. He explores the decision to let go of just focusing on “life-threatening” crimes and regularly tackling the “quality of life” crimes. Instead of putting more cops on the beat to look out for gang violence and murderers, the transit and police authorities dealt with removing graffiti from all subway trains, prosecuting fare-beaters, the “squeegee-men”, public drunkards and urinators. The thinking behind this new strategy was that if you make small changes to the environment that welcomes minor criminal behavior then the major criminal behavior will not develop traction either.
Now let’s substitute the word “crime” for “fear”. Instead of focusing on the major fears in life, if we make incremental changes to the environment that perpetuates minor fears, then the major fears will start to unravel and lose their grip on us. This environment is our mind and its flurry of thoughts and hang ups. You start to slow down your thinking enough to not blow your fears out of proportion. You start to ask “what am I afraid of” instead of being caught up identifying yourself as the one who is afraid. You start to find this thought which we call fear, as intriguing and not as scary. You just spend time cleaning off the graffiti instead of being angry that it is there in the first place. You don’t sit and wish for a dark night of soul to surface, you simply start with just letting go of the trivial thoughts that come up. You gently watch your thoughts come up, say hi and keep on going, saying bye. This builds mental muscle and when the deeper more frightening thoughts and memories do come up, you watch them come and go just the same.
So meditation for me was the unobtrusive and stealth catalyst for major change in my life.
It doesn’t even have to start as two-twenty minute sessions with a mantra in a sacred space. It could easily begin with a reminder three times a day to take three deep breaths. This simple act of witnessing your thoughts can transform your life and change everything because the smallest pivot in any area of our lives makes an immeasurable difference in the long run.
I attribute the elimination of every single one of my IBS symptoms to my simple practice of meditation. This simple routine has opened the doors to my connection with spirit, forgiveness of my greatest offenders, creative freedom and living out the Superman Effect. I’m glad I didn’t know that when I started. I would have overwhelmed myself if I thought meditation was to be my panacea. After all, I just wanted to feel better.
“The name given to that one dramatic moment in an epidemic when everything can change all at once is the Tipping Point. We need to prepare ourselves for the possibility that sometimes big changes follow from small events, and that sometimes these changes can happen very quickly.”- From the Introduction to The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
How do I begin to change everything?
I used to think that the only way I could be free was if I tackled head on the major fears in my life: Fear of death, fear of failure and success, of turning out like my dad, of being inadequate-especially in the eyes of my wife.
12 years ago, I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome. This was the conclusion my doctor drew when he assessed all my symptoms: debilitating fatigue, allergic reactions to dairy/yeast/ gluten, depression, stomach pain and a liver panel that revealed my alkaline level to be much higher than normal. I was put on Elavil, an anti-depressant and watched as the doctor raised the dosage every week beginning at 30 until it reached 200 milligrams. Healing felt like such an uphill battle. I intuitively knew that drugs were not going to address my core issues but I had no tools to even know how to begin to get all fixed up. Moving to Colorado was a great first step. With sun more than 300 days out of the year, I had the environment on the side of a cheerful me. When I reached 200 milligrams, I made the decision to command my doctor to wean me off of Elavil. I told him I would have to find another way.
His advice: “You can always try meditating?”
I had never meditated before and thought that sounds too simplistic a prescription for so complex a condition.
In his book, The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell examines the reasons why New York’s crime rate had dropped so suddenly in the 1990’s. He explores the decision to let go of just focusing on “life-threatening” crimes and regularly tackling the “quality of life” crimes. Instead of putting more cops on the beat to look out for gang violence and murderers, the transit and police authorities dealt with removing graffiti from all subway trains, prosecuting fare-beaters, the “squeegee-men”, public drunkards and urinators. The thinking behind this new strategy was that if you make small changes to the environment that welcomes minor criminal behavior then the major criminal behavior will not develop traction either.
Now let’s substitute the word “crime” for “fear”. Instead of focusing on the major fears in life, if we make incremental changes to the environment that perpetuates minor fears, then the major fears will start to unravel and lose their grip on us. This environment is our mind and its flurry of thoughts and hang ups. You start to slow down your thinking enough to not blow your fears out of proportion. You start to ask “what am I afraid of” instead of being caught up identifying yourself as the one who is afraid. You start to find this thought which we call fear, as intriguing and not as scary. You just spend time cleaning off the graffiti instead of being angry that it is there in the first place. You don’t sit and wish for a dark night of soul to surface, you simply start with just letting go of the trivial thoughts that come up. You gently watch your thoughts come up, say hi and keep on going, saying bye. This builds mental muscle and when the deeper more frightening thoughts and memories do come up, you watch them come and go just the same.
So meditation for me was the unobtrusive and stealth catalyst for major change in my life.
It doesn’t even have to start as two-twenty minute sessions with a mantra in a sacred space. It could easily begin with a reminder three times a day to take three deep breaths. This simple act of witnessing your thoughts can transform your life and change everything because the smallest pivot in any area of our lives makes an immeasurable difference in the long run.
I attribute the elimination of every single one of my IBS symptoms to my simple practice of meditation. This simple routine has opened the doors to my connection with spirit, forgiveness of my greatest offenders, creative freedom and living out the Superman Effect. I’m glad I didn’t know that when I started. I would have overwhelmed myself if I thought meditation was to be my panacea. After all, I just wanted to feel better.
“The name given to that one dramatic moment in an epidemic when everything can change all at once is the Tipping Point. We need to prepare ourselves for the possibility that sometimes big changes follow from small events, and that sometimes these changes can happen very quickly.”- From the Introduction to The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell
Sunday, January 31, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 21
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Last night my oldest daughter asked me: “Can we write a book together?”
I could tell that she was noticing how much joy it brought me to speak about my book and she wanted a piece of the action. She also wanted to spend more time with daddy.
“Of course we can! What should it be about?”
“About Superman” was her answer.
“I know, how about we write a book called The Superman Effect on Children?”
“I like it!” she said
I opened up a blank Word Document and started writing the title of the book we would write in the future together.
I’ve been thinking about my childhood quite a bit lately. The memories that I have written about have made it possible for me to tell my story, contemplate an expanded vision for the future and give my family an extraordinarily rich life. These troubling memories may at times be as difficult to read as they were to write, but they have all served a higher purpose; they have shaped the man I have become and have been my vehicle for positive change. The effect that these childhood memories of a repressive home had on me was a steely resolve to break the lineage of fear and prolonged psychological trauma. I know that my father experienced the same type of trauma growing up in Puerto Rico and it was a safe bet that so did his father before him.
It was through a blend of prayer and continual self-exploration that I was able to close the book on negative ancestral patterns of behavior and instill my own children with the global belief that life is fun, joyful, abundant and that all things are possible- that scarcity is a myth and that children deserve their childhood. The prayers came from my blessed mother; the tools for self-exploration came from my actor training.
To become an actor, I was stripped naked by my teachers of the belief that I knew what made me tick. I was required, if I was to grow in the craft, to discover the source of my restriction to freedom. I had no choice but to feel the pain that accompanied these restrictions and although it wasn’t until years after I left acting that I was able to find forgiveness, I learned to face my past with honesty and in truth. I am grateful for every day that I spent in grueling self-analysis, even if motivated by “getting into the heart of a character in a play.” I spent years trying to find the origin of my buried anger and the insecurities that surfaced became my daily roadmap. Thankfully, digging a little deeper was welcomed therapy because I wanted to be a great actor and fully understand human behavior.
Whenever I observe myself playfully creating with my children, I thank my mother for her prayers and God for my past. Someday my daughter and I will write a book about the effects that a transformed life has on the young. When we allow ourselves to enjoy life regardless of our present circumstances, what our children pick up on is a world transformed. Happiness becomes their baseline because it is now ours. The next time you see your children, take a moment to realize that you are your children’s world. Yes, it is a heavy responsibility to carry to be your children's constant reminder that life is beautiful, but the Superman Effect on children is their divine right.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Last night my oldest daughter asked me: “Can we write a book together?”
I could tell that she was noticing how much joy it brought me to speak about my book and she wanted a piece of the action. She also wanted to spend more time with daddy.
“Of course we can! What should it be about?”
“About Superman” was her answer.
“I know, how about we write a book called The Superman Effect on Children?”
“I like it!” she said
I opened up a blank Word Document and started writing the title of the book we would write in the future together.
I’ve been thinking about my childhood quite a bit lately. The memories that I have written about have made it possible for me to tell my story, contemplate an expanded vision for the future and give my family an extraordinarily rich life. These troubling memories may at times be as difficult to read as they were to write, but they have all served a higher purpose; they have shaped the man I have become and have been my vehicle for positive change. The effect that these childhood memories of a repressive home had on me was a steely resolve to break the lineage of fear and prolonged psychological trauma. I know that my father experienced the same type of trauma growing up in Puerto Rico and it was a safe bet that so did his father before him.
It was through a blend of prayer and continual self-exploration that I was able to close the book on negative ancestral patterns of behavior and instill my own children with the global belief that life is fun, joyful, abundant and that all things are possible- that scarcity is a myth and that children deserve their childhood. The prayers came from my blessed mother; the tools for self-exploration came from my actor training.
To become an actor, I was stripped naked by my teachers of the belief that I knew what made me tick. I was required, if I was to grow in the craft, to discover the source of my restriction to freedom. I had no choice but to feel the pain that accompanied these restrictions and although it wasn’t until years after I left acting that I was able to find forgiveness, I learned to face my past with honesty and in truth. I am grateful for every day that I spent in grueling self-analysis, even if motivated by “getting into the heart of a character in a play.” I spent years trying to find the origin of my buried anger and the insecurities that surfaced became my daily roadmap. Thankfully, digging a little deeper was welcomed therapy because I wanted to be a great actor and fully understand human behavior.
Whenever I observe myself playfully creating with my children, I thank my mother for her prayers and God for my past. Someday my daughter and I will write a book about the effects that a transformed life has on the young. When we allow ourselves to enjoy life regardless of our present circumstances, what our children pick up on is a world transformed. Happiness becomes their baseline because it is now ours. The next time you see your children, take a moment to realize that you are your children’s world. Yes, it is a heavy responsibility to carry to be your children's constant reminder that life is beautiful, but the Superman Effect on children is their divine right.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 20
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
What is your personal myth?
Swiss psychiatrist, Carl G. Jung explored this question in his book, The Symbols of Transformation. He concluded that we are not primarily driven by sexual desires as promulgated by Freud, but by our own personal myth- The one thing above all else that you live for.
If I lost everything I hold dear: My family, my books, my home, my friends and opportunities for spiritual growth, what would I live for? What would sustain me? As I pondered my own personal myth, I was reminded of a scene from my childhood. When I was seven years old, my parents had over a couple to our apartment in the Bronx. The man constantly and in a brash manner ordered my oldest sister who was ten at the time to fetch him a drink, a book, some food, pretty much anything and everything. Finally, she had enough of acting like his slave and said: “Do I have keep doing what you say all day?” He began to berate my sister and my father let it happen. I had to step in.
“Why don’t you to tell him to leave her alone?” I said- chastising my father.
He then turned to my father and asked permission to discipline me. My father consented and gave him one of his leather belts.
“Who do you think you are speaking to your father like that?” he said as he waived the thick brown leather belt over my face.
I looked over to my father who was stoic and immobile. I looked over at my mother and sisters who were all standing together, helpless and in tears. My mother was yelling at him to stop.
Saying that this was between my father and I and he had no right to discipline me. He ignored her. I began to cry.
“Say you are sorry.” the man said. I said nothing. My father said nothing. I felt so alone. My father had abandoned me and my mother was afraid of intervening.
For my seven year old ego, I had no frame of reference to help me make sense of this traumatic experience except for the crucifixion. My accuser was brutally threatening me. My mother and sisters stood by crying but unable to help me and my God had abandoned me.
“I’m going to give you one last chance to say you are sorry before I use this belt.”
I finally relented and said I was sorry which put an end to my torture. I looked at my father and saw remorse for what he had allowed. He did not say as much but I knew that he was caught up in the moment and he knew not what he was doing. Although I did not feel I deserved to be treated this way, I felt compassion for my troubled dad.
My accuser thought it best to call it a night and we all went to bed never to speak of this incident.
I know to this day that I did the right thing by intervening for my sister. This is my myth. This is what is most important to me. To help those that cannot help themselves, to give voice to the voiceless. If I lost everything I hold dear in life, I would find my life’s work in helping others.
There is a strong current of fear and hopelessness in the American psyche. The current finds a voice in the words of Chris Matthews’ right before Obama’s first State of the Union speech, “Roosevelt had it wrong.” He declared. “The only thing you have to fear isn’t fear itself. People are out of work. This fear is real.”
Well yes, the fear is real and very powerful but it can be overcome. Fear can be overcome by not being afraid of the fear. Witnessing it as a passing, albeit strong emotion and deciding to act in spite of it; believing that better days are ahead. That even if we do not see the next job yet, it is coming our way and it will be better than any job we have ever had up to this point. These new and higher thought forms do a funny thing to fear and the ego; it turns them from your master to your servant. Fear is real, but it does not have to rule you. You can live a life aligned with your gifts and life purpose in whatever vocation you choose.
It is said that the 70% of the American workforce unhappy at their jobs, are simply not wired to do the work they are doing. They may be good at it but they don’t enjoy it and to be wired to do a job means you have both- skill and satisfaction. Instead of looking at the hopelessness of a 10% unemployment rate, why don’t we take this opportunity to find the jobs that we are all wired to do? Fear will keep us from even looking for these types of jobs. Hope reveals entrepreneurs, leaders, teachers, counselors, healers and writers from within those that are currently unemployed. Hope also reveals men and woman perfectly wired to design, build, construct, and repair. This time is a glorious opportunity to realign all of our talents with our life’s work. Let’s call it the ultimate market correction.
The answers come from within. Fear just keeps us from even asking any empowering questions. If you didn’t get the job you applied for, ask yourself: “Is there any part of me that did not want to get this job?” Envision a job that makes you happy. There are people for whom driving a truck cross country or picking up 40 lb boxes all day puts them in a state of bliss. For me, it’s helping others through my writing. Our business is to find out what puts us in a state of bliss. The rest is God’s business.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
What is your personal myth?
Swiss psychiatrist, Carl G. Jung explored this question in his book, The Symbols of Transformation. He concluded that we are not primarily driven by sexual desires as promulgated by Freud, but by our own personal myth- The one thing above all else that you live for.
If I lost everything I hold dear: My family, my books, my home, my friends and opportunities for spiritual growth, what would I live for? What would sustain me? As I pondered my own personal myth, I was reminded of a scene from my childhood. When I was seven years old, my parents had over a couple to our apartment in the Bronx. The man constantly and in a brash manner ordered my oldest sister who was ten at the time to fetch him a drink, a book, some food, pretty much anything and everything. Finally, she had enough of acting like his slave and said: “Do I have keep doing what you say all day?” He began to berate my sister and my father let it happen. I had to step in.
“Why don’t you to tell him to leave her alone?” I said- chastising my father.
He then turned to my father and asked permission to discipline me. My father consented and gave him one of his leather belts.
“Who do you think you are speaking to your father like that?” he said as he waived the thick brown leather belt over my face.
I looked over to my father who was stoic and immobile. I looked over at my mother and sisters who were all standing together, helpless and in tears. My mother was yelling at him to stop.
Saying that this was between my father and I and he had no right to discipline me. He ignored her. I began to cry.
“Say you are sorry.” the man said. I said nothing. My father said nothing. I felt so alone. My father had abandoned me and my mother was afraid of intervening.
For my seven year old ego, I had no frame of reference to help me make sense of this traumatic experience except for the crucifixion. My accuser was brutally threatening me. My mother and sisters stood by crying but unable to help me and my God had abandoned me.
“I’m going to give you one last chance to say you are sorry before I use this belt.”
I finally relented and said I was sorry which put an end to my torture. I looked at my father and saw remorse for what he had allowed. He did not say as much but I knew that he was caught up in the moment and he knew not what he was doing. Although I did not feel I deserved to be treated this way, I felt compassion for my troubled dad.
My accuser thought it best to call it a night and we all went to bed never to speak of this incident.
I know to this day that I did the right thing by intervening for my sister. This is my myth. This is what is most important to me. To help those that cannot help themselves, to give voice to the voiceless. If I lost everything I hold dear in life, I would find my life’s work in helping others.
There is a strong current of fear and hopelessness in the American psyche. The current finds a voice in the words of Chris Matthews’ right before Obama’s first State of the Union speech, “Roosevelt had it wrong.” He declared. “The only thing you have to fear isn’t fear itself. People are out of work. This fear is real.”
Well yes, the fear is real and very powerful but it can be overcome. Fear can be overcome by not being afraid of the fear. Witnessing it as a passing, albeit strong emotion and deciding to act in spite of it; believing that better days are ahead. That even if we do not see the next job yet, it is coming our way and it will be better than any job we have ever had up to this point. These new and higher thought forms do a funny thing to fear and the ego; it turns them from your master to your servant. Fear is real, but it does not have to rule you. You can live a life aligned with your gifts and life purpose in whatever vocation you choose.
It is said that the 70% of the American workforce unhappy at their jobs, are simply not wired to do the work they are doing. They may be good at it but they don’t enjoy it and to be wired to do a job means you have both- skill and satisfaction. Instead of looking at the hopelessness of a 10% unemployment rate, why don’t we take this opportunity to find the jobs that we are all wired to do? Fear will keep us from even looking for these types of jobs. Hope reveals entrepreneurs, leaders, teachers, counselors, healers and writers from within those that are currently unemployed. Hope also reveals men and woman perfectly wired to design, build, construct, and repair. This time is a glorious opportunity to realign all of our talents with our life’s work. Let’s call it the ultimate market correction.
The answers come from within. Fear just keeps us from even asking any empowering questions. If you didn’t get the job you applied for, ask yourself: “Is there any part of me that did not want to get this job?” Envision a job that makes you happy. There are people for whom driving a truck cross country or picking up 40 lb boxes all day puts them in a state of bliss. For me, it’s helping others through my writing. Our business is to find out what puts us in a state of bliss. The rest is God’s business.
Friday, January 29, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 19
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Version #1
“I had a feeling my father in law was going through a difficult time with the third anniversary of his wife’s passing so I started to pray for him.”
Sounds normal enough; the expression of intuition in digestible bites. Here is another version, no less true than the first:
“After I had finished last night’s blog entry, I began my meditation using the rosary. I did not get through the first decade before I began to feel aware of spirit presence. It was definitely the energy of my mother in law. I was reminded of her call for me to “help her” during the days leading up to her passing. I asked whether she was trying to communicate to me through my daughter’s call for help that night. She then revealed to me that she was not, but that my father in law was. His spirit was in a profound struggle to let go of my mother in law and move on with his life even after three years had passed. He was afraid his loneliness was causing him to lose his mind.
I immediately recalled what my daughter had said when I asked her what was scaring her and causing her to cry for help?
“My mind.”
Now here is where the man who is still in the closet would normally stop, but since I’m out…
“My mother in law revealed to me that my daughter was acting as a messenger of my father in law’s spirit personality in turmoil. In the physical, he just seems depressed and lonely. He is not even aware of how pronounced his struggle with life is right now. There is a spiritual dimension in which his struggle is much deeper and his mind has barriers that keep him from having any awareness of his higher self. He is beset by guilt over past experiences and sees no prospect of a happy life without her.”
So is it possible for a six year old to channel the spirit of someone still alive and send a message a thousand miles away? In a world that is now open to the theory of non-locality, changes at the sub-atomic level being caused by mere observation, and all matter being made up of energy with thought as its essence- anything is possible. My mother in law asked me to transmute healing energy into all of his energy centers. He is afraid of surviving on his own, without the company of a woman, he is looking for his power center, a way to soften his heart, speak about his feelings, listen to his intuition and connect with God. So I sent healing energy to each of his seven chakras and then went to bed to tell my wife what had transpired. My wife called him today to counsel him and said he seemed so much lighter.
If my experience seems unique to you it is only because most people just stay open to and reveal version #1. Most of us go through life filtering out the moments that don’t jive with empirical reality and socially acceptable norms. Some of us allow ourselves to experience these moments with little judgment, but we don’t share them with others. It is these moments of mystery that expand our conceptual framework of who we are and how far-reaching our impact is on the world. These experiences are becoming increasingly frequent at this moment in our history.
People from all walks of life are awakening to the transmutation of healing energies across time and space for the purpose of furthering our evolution.
In business, we love to use the term “think outside the box” or “let’s brainstorm together.” What a wonderful prospect it is to have a world view that allows the creative process to unfold-without any judgments or approval by pragmatic minds. Treasures are discovered spontaneously.
The world is no longer flat so anything is now possible. My litmus test as to whether or not I am interested in any experience is: “does it make me feel lighter and does it make those I am working on want to do the same for others?”
Ancient Egyptian: "Do for one who may do for you, that you may cause him thus to do." The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant, 109 - 110 Translated by R.B. Parkinson. The original dates to circa 1800 BCE and may be the earliest version of the Epic of Reciprocity (the Golden Rule) ever written.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Version #1
“I had a feeling my father in law was going through a difficult time with the third anniversary of his wife’s passing so I started to pray for him.”
Sounds normal enough; the expression of intuition in digestible bites. Here is another version, no less true than the first:
“After I had finished last night’s blog entry, I began my meditation using the rosary. I did not get through the first decade before I began to feel aware of spirit presence. It was definitely the energy of my mother in law. I was reminded of her call for me to “help her” during the days leading up to her passing. I asked whether she was trying to communicate to me through my daughter’s call for help that night. She then revealed to me that she was not, but that my father in law was. His spirit was in a profound struggle to let go of my mother in law and move on with his life even after three years had passed. He was afraid his loneliness was causing him to lose his mind.
I immediately recalled what my daughter had said when I asked her what was scaring her and causing her to cry for help?
“My mind.”
Now here is where the man who is still in the closet would normally stop, but since I’m out…
“My mother in law revealed to me that my daughter was acting as a messenger of my father in law’s spirit personality in turmoil. In the physical, he just seems depressed and lonely. He is not even aware of how pronounced his struggle with life is right now. There is a spiritual dimension in which his struggle is much deeper and his mind has barriers that keep him from having any awareness of his higher self. He is beset by guilt over past experiences and sees no prospect of a happy life without her.”
So is it possible for a six year old to channel the spirit of someone still alive and send a message a thousand miles away? In a world that is now open to the theory of non-locality, changes at the sub-atomic level being caused by mere observation, and all matter being made up of energy with thought as its essence- anything is possible. My mother in law asked me to transmute healing energy into all of his energy centers. He is afraid of surviving on his own, without the company of a woman, he is looking for his power center, a way to soften his heart, speak about his feelings, listen to his intuition and connect with God. So I sent healing energy to each of his seven chakras and then went to bed to tell my wife what had transpired. My wife called him today to counsel him and said he seemed so much lighter.
If my experience seems unique to you it is only because most people just stay open to and reveal version #1. Most of us go through life filtering out the moments that don’t jive with empirical reality and socially acceptable norms. Some of us allow ourselves to experience these moments with little judgment, but we don’t share them with others. It is these moments of mystery that expand our conceptual framework of who we are and how far-reaching our impact is on the world. These experiences are becoming increasingly frequent at this moment in our history.
People from all walks of life are awakening to the transmutation of healing energies across time and space for the purpose of furthering our evolution.
In business, we love to use the term “think outside the box” or “let’s brainstorm together.” What a wonderful prospect it is to have a world view that allows the creative process to unfold-without any judgments or approval by pragmatic minds. Treasures are discovered spontaneously.
The world is no longer flat so anything is now possible. My litmus test as to whether or not I am interested in any experience is: “does it make me feel lighter and does it make those I am working on want to do the same for others?”
Ancient Egyptian: "Do for one who may do for you, that you may cause him thus to do." The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant, 109 - 110 Translated by R.B. Parkinson. The original dates to circa 1800 BCE and may be the earliest version of the Epic of Reciprocity (the Golden Rule) ever written.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 18
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Today is the third anniversary of my mother in law’s passing. It was a rough evening for all of us. My wife and I had little patience for our two daughter’s misbehavior and hourly tantrums. At one point in the night, we let our oldest daughter just scream and shout in her room. Her choice of words accompanying her wailing was disturbing, but we decided to let her try and calm herself down. She repeated over and over: “help me, help me.” After about a minute, my wife stepped in and attempted to explain how a cry of “help me” can be misinterpreted by the neighbors. I asked my daughter: “What is scaring you?
Through tears she said: "My mind".
Through a bewildered look, I tried to explain to her as best I could that our mind can’t hurt us. That it is just like our dreams. I said a prayer with her and put her to bed.
Last night I saw a ghost with my eyes open for the first time in months. He was a Caucasian man in his mid-60’s standing right next to my side of the bed. Since I had not seen a ghost in so long, I was a bit startled and as soon as I became aware of him, he vanished before I could find out what he wanted. He left me with the impression that he was a kind spirit. What was more surprising was that my youngest daughter, who has not slept in her room a whole night in months for fear of “the woman” or a host of other excuses given to hop into “mommy bed”, slept in her own “big girl bed” soundly all night.
What I find fascinating about all of my communications with earthbound spirits is that they have a similar story to reveal to me. They seem confused but my very presence or anyone else who has an awareness of them, causes the spirit to reclaim a form that they can perceive as real. It’s as if they need us to project their existence. Without me noticing them, they question whether they exist and seem dazed and alarmed. When I notice them, they snap to attention. When I communicate with them, they listen and when I send them towards self-forgiveness, they obey.
It got me thinking, isn’t that what we think we need from each other: validation from others that we and our place in the world makes sense and has significance? We want to be noticed, we want to be seen and heard, and we want to be loved. How good does it feel to hear the words: “I’ve been thinking about you”?
I remember years ago seeing a video of a series of Hakomi sessions in Boulder, CO. A woman was undergoing somatic experience therapy and the multiple sessions were taped. She exhibited so much resistance in the early sessions. You could tell she was not prepared to discard her hard exterior for fear of what she might find inside. By the eighth session however, after having breathed through so many blocks in different parts of her body, she had a cathartic breakthrough. After sobbing, her face softened and she repeated the same phrase over and over: “I exist, I exist. I exist” She had a look of amazement over a fact that is often taken for granted: The miracle of our own existence. Nothing else. Not “I am perfect, wonderful, a child of the Most High, loved, a good father, a good wife. Nothing else. Simply-“I exist.” “My life has meaning because I exist.” I deserve happiness because I exist.” “I don’t have to fear death because I exist.”
So maybe the spirits who have not crossed over need to be reminded that they exist. They can let go of the old plane of reality that is riddled with guilt, sorrow, worry and identification with roles.
Next week, I start a Spiritual Life Coach Certification program. I have a feeling I have not seen the last of my Casper friends.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Today is the third anniversary of my mother in law’s passing. It was a rough evening for all of us. My wife and I had little patience for our two daughter’s misbehavior and hourly tantrums. At one point in the night, we let our oldest daughter just scream and shout in her room. Her choice of words accompanying her wailing was disturbing, but we decided to let her try and calm herself down. She repeated over and over: “help me, help me.” After about a minute, my wife stepped in and attempted to explain how a cry of “help me” can be misinterpreted by the neighbors. I asked my daughter: “What is scaring you?
Through tears she said: "My mind".
Through a bewildered look, I tried to explain to her as best I could that our mind can’t hurt us. That it is just like our dreams. I said a prayer with her and put her to bed.
Last night I saw a ghost with my eyes open for the first time in months. He was a Caucasian man in his mid-60’s standing right next to my side of the bed. Since I had not seen a ghost in so long, I was a bit startled and as soon as I became aware of him, he vanished before I could find out what he wanted. He left me with the impression that he was a kind spirit. What was more surprising was that my youngest daughter, who has not slept in her room a whole night in months for fear of “the woman” or a host of other excuses given to hop into “mommy bed”, slept in her own “big girl bed” soundly all night.
What I find fascinating about all of my communications with earthbound spirits is that they have a similar story to reveal to me. They seem confused but my very presence or anyone else who has an awareness of them, causes the spirit to reclaim a form that they can perceive as real. It’s as if they need us to project their existence. Without me noticing them, they question whether they exist and seem dazed and alarmed. When I notice them, they snap to attention. When I communicate with them, they listen and when I send them towards self-forgiveness, they obey.
It got me thinking, isn’t that what we think we need from each other: validation from others that we and our place in the world makes sense and has significance? We want to be noticed, we want to be seen and heard, and we want to be loved. How good does it feel to hear the words: “I’ve been thinking about you”?
I remember years ago seeing a video of a series of Hakomi sessions in Boulder, CO. A woman was undergoing somatic experience therapy and the multiple sessions were taped. She exhibited so much resistance in the early sessions. You could tell she was not prepared to discard her hard exterior for fear of what she might find inside. By the eighth session however, after having breathed through so many blocks in different parts of her body, she had a cathartic breakthrough. After sobbing, her face softened and she repeated the same phrase over and over: “I exist, I exist. I exist” She had a look of amazement over a fact that is often taken for granted: The miracle of our own existence. Nothing else. Not “I am perfect, wonderful, a child of the Most High, loved, a good father, a good wife. Nothing else. Simply-“I exist.” “My life has meaning because I exist.” I deserve happiness because I exist.” “I don’t have to fear death because I exist.”
So maybe the spirits who have not crossed over need to be reminded that they exist. They can let go of the old plane of reality that is riddled with guilt, sorrow, worry and identification with roles.
Next week, I start a Spiritual Life Coach Certification program. I have a feeling I have not seen the last of my Casper friends.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 17
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I had the same two voice and speech teachers throughout my years at Boston University. They were two of the most wonderful people you could ever meet. One was a serious vocal coach and actor with a strong baritone voice and credentials spanning 30 years, the other was a happy go lucky, short, flamboyant man who cared as much about your youthful happiness as he did about your training. They had also been life partners for over 20 years.
The door to my joyful and gay teacher was a revolving one. Student after student would go to his office for two reasons: To smoke cigarettes (which you could still do in 1988) while sitting on his comfy leather couch, and to come up for air. The outside world was so restrictive. You had to please your parents, your new teachers, your peers and yourself. At 16 years of age, I could talk to him about my homesickness and my feelings of guilt about being too tired to pick up the phone when my dad would call in the mornings. I could pour out my confusion about the looks I would get in class. Is it because I’m the only Puerto Rican here or is it because I’m from the Bronx?
“Dennis, don’t worry about whether others accept you. I think you’re pretty perfect.”
He treated everyone as uniquely perfect; especially those that were terrified over what to do about their attraction towards the same sex. These kids were hurting and needed to be reminded that they are perfect the way God made them. Everyone went to him and everyone felt better.
It is not easy to be a teenager in college. How can you accept yourself when everywhere you look, there is judgment, criticism and in worst cases- condemnation? When we find a portal that relieves us from believing that the path to fulfillment is through what other’s project as the socially acceptable you, you start to finally breathe. That simple reminder of our perfection nourishes the soul and helps us to carry on the search for our truth.
We have very few places in life where we can explore our truest selves; a place of non-judgment, with no requirements that you play any role. The most heart-breaking aspect is what happens to a life that does not find a place to come up for air. Feelings of anger at the injustice of not being allowed to be you start to bubble up. It is either expressed or suppressed, turning into guilt and self hatred for having to live a lie. All of our actions become colored by these feelings of discontent and we become depressed and frightened at the prospect of never finding our true life purpose because we have no recollection of who we truly are.
Then comes a book, a lover, a teacher, a minister or if we’re lucky a family member that cuts right through all of our undesired masks and only sees light. You start to see your own light reflected through their acceptance. Like attracts like so you run into others that are willing to accept all of you. You begin to accept yourself and to be happy again, so you decide the time has come for a coming out party.
My teacher told me during the spring of my first year in college: “When I was a kid Dennis, I used to love to play with fronds on Palm Sunday.”
I didn’t say anything but I was going to thank him for all he did for me by bringing him some fronds the following Monday after Palm Sunday. I brought him fronds every year while I was at the university and he would hang it up on his office wall until the following year.
In 2000, I received an email that he had passed away. I was able to get a hold of the email address of my other teacher, his partner and expressed my sorrow. His partner responded:
“You know Dennis, those fronds you gave him, he kept them all these years. It meant the world to him that you remembered to bring them.”
Fronds or palm branches are a symbol of triumph and divine kingship. I wonder if he ever knew how much his presence and the simple reminders of our kingship meant to all the students he touched.
“God has given you one face, and you make yourself another”- Hamlet by William Shakespeare
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
I had the same two voice and speech teachers throughout my years at Boston University. They were two of the most wonderful people you could ever meet. One was a serious vocal coach and actor with a strong baritone voice and credentials spanning 30 years, the other was a happy go lucky, short, flamboyant man who cared as much about your youthful happiness as he did about your training. They had also been life partners for over 20 years.
The door to my joyful and gay teacher was a revolving one. Student after student would go to his office for two reasons: To smoke cigarettes (which you could still do in 1988) while sitting on his comfy leather couch, and to come up for air. The outside world was so restrictive. You had to please your parents, your new teachers, your peers and yourself. At 16 years of age, I could talk to him about my homesickness and my feelings of guilt about being too tired to pick up the phone when my dad would call in the mornings. I could pour out my confusion about the looks I would get in class. Is it because I’m the only Puerto Rican here or is it because I’m from the Bronx?
“Dennis, don’t worry about whether others accept you. I think you’re pretty perfect.”
He treated everyone as uniquely perfect; especially those that were terrified over what to do about their attraction towards the same sex. These kids were hurting and needed to be reminded that they are perfect the way God made them. Everyone went to him and everyone felt better.
It is not easy to be a teenager in college. How can you accept yourself when everywhere you look, there is judgment, criticism and in worst cases- condemnation? When we find a portal that relieves us from believing that the path to fulfillment is through what other’s project as the socially acceptable you, you start to finally breathe. That simple reminder of our perfection nourishes the soul and helps us to carry on the search for our truth.
We have very few places in life where we can explore our truest selves; a place of non-judgment, with no requirements that you play any role. The most heart-breaking aspect is what happens to a life that does not find a place to come up for air. Feelings of anger at the injustice of not being allowed to be you start to bubble up. It is either expressed or suppressed, turning into guilt and self hatred for having to live a lie. All of our actions become colored by these feelings of discontent and we become depressed and frightened at the prospect of never finding our true life purpose because we have no recollection of who we truly are.
Then comes a book, a lover, a teacher, a minister or if we’re lucky a family member that cuts right through all of our undesired masks and only sees light. You start to see your own light reflected through their acceptance. Like attracts like so you run into others that are willing to accept all of you. You begin to accept yourself and to be happy again, so you decide the time has come for a coming out party.
My teacher told me during the spring of my first year in college: “When I was a kid Dennis, I used to love to play with fronds on Palm Sunday.”
I didn’t say anything but I was going to thank him for all he did for me by bringing him some fronds the following Monday after Palm Sunday. I brought him fronds every year while I was at the university and he would hang it up on his office wall until the following year.
In 2000, I received an email that he had passed away. I was able to get a hold of the email address of my other teacher, his partner and expressed my sorrow. His partner responded:
“You know Dennis, those fronds you gave him, he kept them all these years. It meant the world to him that you remembered to bring them.”
Fronds or palm branches are a symbol of triumph and divine kingship. I wonder if he ever knew how much his presence and the simple reminders of our kingship meant to all the students he touched.
“God has given you one face, and you make yourself another”- Hamlet by William Shakespeare
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 16
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
“There is so much pain in your eyes.” It did not take long for my future wife to notice.
“We have to leave him Mommy. We can move to Puerto Rico. He will never find us. All four of us kids agreed and pleaded with her- “We have to leave him now.”
“Como podemos?” How can we?” she asks.
We knew that my mother was scared and could not take care of us all by herself. We had no one to turn to, but we had to do something. He had become so angry and worse, that day he let his anger turn to violence. We convinced my mother to wait until he leaves for work at 10pm and at least spend the night at a neighbor’s home. With no plan for the future, all four of us slept on the floor; at least we tried to.
My father rarely carried keys to the house. Usually my mother would lock the door behind him when he left for work at the Bronx terminal market. He would knock on the door for one of us to let him in when he arrived. His knock was loud and recognizable and it would let us know to take a break from the good times. That night, we took the keys and left the door unlocked for his return.
When he arrived that morning, he must have seen the note my mom left him: “We are leaving you and never coming back. We cannot live like this anymore. The kids are so scared of you.” He began to call around and it did not take him long to reach my mother’s best friend and neighbor.”
“Chany’s on the phone.”
My mother snaps back with fear and fury “Yo no quiero hablar con el.” “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“He said he wants you all to come home and that you have the only set of keys. He does not want to leave for work that night without locking the door.”
“I will send Dennis.” she says
“What? Me?” I asked, hoping to escape this dreaded initiation rite.
“He hit your sister. It has to be you.”
“Do it for Mommy.” One of my sisters blurts out.
“OK. I’ll do it.”
I was only 11 years old and I had never been as scared as I was that day walking from our neighbor’s home to ours. “I have to be strong for my mother and sisters." I felt so small and vulnerable, confused as to why I was forced to act like a man. “I cannot cry. I have to be strong.”
I entered the house and pressed on to the kitchen all the while dreading the next moment. There he was. There was no sign of anger or of any emotion. We just stared each other. He looks at me and says: “what does she want me to do?”
I started to quiver. I could not hold it in anymore. I was a child in pain and so I cried. “I want you to stop fighting!”
His eyes began to water and he took a step towards me. I jerked away a bit and then he turned into my dad. He hugged me and said through sobs: “I promise I will not fight anymore. I am so sorry.”
At the moment of our embrace, I could feel the pain behind the anger. It was the pain of a man who was lost- a man who hated himself for not being able to control his passions. A man who lived a lie in the eyes of most people he knew. It was the pain of a man who needed his father to embrace him and tell him he was sorry a long time ago. It was the pain of a man who did not feel he deserved the love of his family.
My father thought he kept his promise because he never hit us again, but the daily bursts of anger continued for years. That is, until disease took away his strength and he learned to surrender to his truest self. He learned to stop fighting.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
“There is so much pain in your eyes.” It did not take long for my future wife to notice.
“We have to leave him Mommy. We can move to Puerto Rico. He will never find us. All four of us kids agreed and pleaded with her- “We have to leave him now.”
“Como podemos?” How can we?” she asks.
We knew that my mother was scared and could not take care of us all by herself. We had no one to turn to, but we had to do something. He had become so angry and worse, that day he let his anger turn to violence. We convinced my mother to wait until he leaves for work at 10pm and at least spend the night at a neighbor’s home. With no plan for the future, all four of us slept on the floor; at least we tried to.
My father rarely carried keys to the house. Usually my mother would lock the door behind him when he left for work at the Bronx terminal market. He would knock on the door for one of us to let him in when he arrived. His knock was loud and recognizable and it would let us know to take a break from the good times. That night, we took the keys and left the door unlocked for his return.
When he arrived that morning, he must have seen the note my mom left him: “We are leaving you and never coming back. We cannot live like this anymore. The kids are so scared of you.” He began to call around and it did not take him long to reach my mother’s best friend and neighbor.”
“Chany’s on the phone.”
My mother snaps back with fear and fury “Yo no quiero hablar con el.” “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“He said he wants you all to come home and that you have the only set of keys. He does not want to leave for work that night without locking the door.”
“I will send Dennis.” she says
“What? Me?” I asked, hoping to escape this dreaded initiation rite.
“He hit your sister. It has to be you.”
“Do it for Mommy.” One of my sisters blurts out.
“OK. I’ll do it.”
I was only 11 years old and I had never been as scared as I was that day walking from our neighbor’s home to ours. “I have to be strong for my mother and sisters." I felt so small and vulnerable, confused as to why I was forced to act like a man. “I cannot cry. I have to be strong.”
I entered the house and pressed on to the kitchen all the while dreading the next moment. There he was. There was no sign of anger or of any emotion. We just stared each other. He looks at me and says: “what does she want me to do?”
I started to quiver. I could not hold it in anymore. I was a child in pain and so I cried. “I want you to stop fighting!”
His eyes began to water and he took a step towards me. I jerked away a bit and then he turned into my dad. He hugged me and said through sobs: “I promise I will not fight anymore. I am so sorry.”
At the moment of our embrace, I could feel the pain behind the anger. It was the pain of a man who was lost- a man who hated himself for not being able to control his passions. A man who lived a lie in the eyes of most people he knew. It was the pain of a man who needed his father to embrace him and tell him he was sorry a long time ago. It was the pain of a man who did not feel he deserved the love of his family.
My father thought he kept his promise because he never hit us again, but the daily bursts of anger continued for years. That is, until disease took away his strength and he learned to surrender to his truest self. He learned to stop fighting.
Monday, January 25, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 15
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
As the recession of the 1980’s brought with it a surge of all things angelic- angel sightings, angel books, angel cards and the setting of the Broadway hit play, Angels in America; similarly, the second decade of the 21st century is witnessing a convergence of belief in manifestation. New Age thought and the prosperity gospel are finding common ground in the belief that we are all highly favored and deserve to be blessed. Science and religion are realizing that the quest for a unified theory leads to a field of energy that is conscious of itself- revealing the mind of God, through the mind of creation. Recognizing the importance of right brain functions; modern psychology look to tools such as somatic experience, emotional freedom technique and brain frequency entrainment as necessary compliments to talk therapy. So what is going on? It’s simple: We want to understand how to feel better!
But to want to feel better has taken millions of years of evolution. Throughout human history, we have looked up at the stars and saw powers that we concluded must be much greater than ourselves. The kingdom of God must be up and out there somewhere. We can understand the game of the hunt, but the heavens can only be glimpsed if we were worthy. Those that knew they were worthy saw the kingdom of God within-but few came to this realization. Since it was not a foregone conclusion that we were worthy to look beyond the veil, we presupposed our unworthiness and sought out priests among us that might be worthy. These priests were not sure of their worthiness either so they looked to one among them that could play the role of High Priest. The High Priest wasn’t totally certain of their worthiness. “Only God was worthy to be called good.”Like a concerned parent, those in power feared spoiling their children or not preparing them for the harshness of life, so they made sure the rest of the “unworthilings” learn to earn every temporal and eternal reward. We have even ritualized our dependency and say in unison “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you.”
The ego has created mental safety nets to keep us in a state of unworthiness, fearing that someone or something might challenge any delusions of grandeur and knock us off our tower of Babel. “What if I fail? I can’t fail if I don’t try.” Not trying feels empty, dry and confusing far from our homeostasis. We start to notice that people that try, have more experiences of satisfaction than of disappointments. Those people laugh all the time, study up relentlessly, work out, meditate, and believe. We start to notice how we feel and look inside ourselves for answers. When a simple answer to a complex question makes itself known, we ask: How did I do that?
“Well you did do that. Your awareness and acceptance of how you feel opened the door to more of the Field, a network of answers. YOU decide if you deserve to do it again. If you decide that you deserve to get answers, then answers you will get.”
So here we are. We are collectively waking up to the knowledge that we deserve to get answers. We have been made worthy so let’s think up some great questions.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
As the recession of the 1980’s brought with it a surge of all things angelic- angel sightings, angel books, angel cards and the setting of the Broadway hit play, Angels in America; similarly, the second decade of the 21st century is witnessing a convergence of belief in manifestation. New Age thought and the prosperity gospel are finding common ground in the belief that we are all highly favored and deserve to be blessed. Science and religion are realizing that the quest for a unified theory leads to a field of energy that is conscious of itself- revealing the mind of God, through the mind of creation. Recognizing the importance of right brain functions; modern psychology look to tools such as somatic experience, emotional freedom technique and brain frequency entrainment as necessary compliments to talk therapy. So what is going on? It’s simple: We want to understand how to feel better!
But to want to feel better has taken millions of years of evolution. Throughout human history, we have looked up at the stars and saw powers that we concluded must be much greater than ourselves. The kingdom of God must be up and out there somewhere. We can understand the game of the hunt, but the heavens can only be glimpsed if we were worthy. Those that knew they were worthy saw the kingdom of God within-but few came to this realization. Since it was not a foregone conclusion that we were worthy to look beyond the veil, we presupposed our unworthiness and sought out priests among us that might be worthy. These priests were not sure of their worthiness either so they looked to one among them that could play the role of High Priest. The High Priest wasn’t totally certain of their worthiness. “Only God was worthy to be called good.”Like a concerned parent, those in power feared spoiling their children or not preparing them for the harshness of life, so they made sure the rest of the “unworthilings” learn to earn every temporal and eternal reward. We have even ritualized our dependency and say in unison “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you.”
The ego has created mental safety nets to keep us in a state of unworthiness, fearing that someone or something might challenge any delusions of grandeur and knock us off our tower of Babel. “What if I fail? I can’t fail if I don’t try.” Not trying feels empty, dry and confusing far from our homeostasis. We start to notice that people that try, have more experiences of satisfaction than of disappointments. Those people laugh all the time, study up relentlessly, work out, meditate, and believe. We start to notice how we feel and look inside ourselves for answers. When a simple answer to a complex question makes itself known, we ask: How did I do that?
“Well you did do that. Your awareness and acceptance of how you feel opened the door to more of the Field, a network of answers. YOU decide if you deserve to do it again. If you decide that you deserve to get answers, then answers you will get.”
So here we are. We are collectively waking up to the knowledge that we deserve to get answers. We have been made worthy so let’s think up some great questions.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 14
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Can we ever be certain of our intuition?
It was the fall of 1994 and I was in the middle of my first term of a Master of Fine Arts program at the University of Missouri-Kansas City. We were about to start morning voice and speech warm up when a classmate of mine storms through the Performing Arts Center doors in our usual dramatic fashion.
“Fellas” he began. “I have just seen the woman I’m going to marry. She is a red-head, and I am in love.”
“Did you introduce yourself?” I asked
“Well no, not yet.”
As soon as class was over, another friend of mine and I decide to see for ourselves. We peaked into the adjacent dance studio and asked the love stricken puppy to point her out.
I turn to my other friend. “She is cute. I’m going to have to help this poor boy.” I figured, he was a country bumpkin and I was a street wise kid from the Bronx. I was sure I could help him cut to the chase and impress her.
I spent the next month advising him on how to approach her. What to say, what not to say. I became his Cyrano De Bergerac except he was too scared to speak to her. I introduced myself to the girl before he allowed himself to. I figured it was all for a good cause.
Then came the night I was to meet another classmate to rehearse a scene from Anton Chekov’s play Three Sisters. My scene partner was quite a character. When we would rehearse in her home she would be stricken with a case of narcolepsy and would fall asleep standing- in the middle of our scene! Was I that boring of an actor? I told her we just had to find a place to rehearse that would keep her awake, so we decided to meet the following evening at the Performing Arts Center. She was running late and there I was waiting in the front of the building for my sleeping beauty. Someone else was waiting. It was the red-headed girl. I felt a tug to strike up a conversation. I did not question my intuition. I went over and found out that she was waiting for some friends to celebrate her 21st birthday. We chatted for a few minutes and finally my scene partner arrived.
“Well, I’ve got to go.” I said. Happy Birthday.”
I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. I guarantee you that had I thought for a moment about kissing her on the cheek, I would not have done so. It was one of those rare but exquisite movements that have nothing to do with conscious awareness. You are being moved. The universe does not give you the option to resist or to override. You don’t surrender to the moment. The moment just happens.
My narcoleptic scene partner witnessed my brass and was wide-eyed when we walked into the PAC.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to steal her away?”
“I’m not doing anything. I just gave her a kiss on the cheek. It’s her birthday.”
I truly meant it at the time. Well, my Shakespearean classmate in love did have one date with the girl. There was in her words, “no chemistry." All he did with all the poetic lines I gave him was crack jokes. He gave up his quest to marry the red-head and soon left the university before the first year was out.
It took a few chance encounters and a new year’s resolution to start dating for me to finally ask her out. I did and within three months after our first date, she was inviting me to spend a month with her at her parent's home in Vancouver, Canada. How could I resist. The closest this New Yorker had ever been to the west coast was right where I was standing- Kansas City, Missouri. Sounds like an adventure.
I was not sure where our relationship was going, but she was about to teach me the meaning of certainty.
We were at a seafood restaurant on Vancouver Island enjoying the local catch, when she turns to me and says: “You are the one.”
“I’m the one what?”
“You are the one I’m going to marry.”
My universes split in two. Like a scene from the old show, Ally McBeal. One thought played itself out in my head.
“Can I have the check?”
Another thought actually became reality.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because I know.”
We just sat there. I did not question her any further. She had a look of assurance that I could not diminish.
We had only been dating for a few months, but she knew that she and I would be married. 15 years and two little angels later, here we are.
My wife is the visionary of the family. She has seen my potential years before I allowed myself to even consider a higher purpose. She was the one who said to me years ago. “You will be a published author. You will heal through your words”. I have questioned my intuition at times, but have never doubted hers.
Yesterday I received a call from a publisher of a world-wide company who has been moved and inspired by my blog to start circulating it around her company. When I told my wife, she began to well up.
“Why are you crying? I asked.
She then said: “Because this confirms what I have always seen and felt about you. It confirms my own path. I am here to see, then watch things unfold."
I was told not to get my hopes up about getting my blog published as a book. My response is still the same: "Why not?" Why not get my hopes up? I'm not after a book deal. I'm after a state of being. If it feels good to dream of a major book deal, then I choose to feel good. Tomorrow will worry about itself. What is the worst thing that can happen if I get my hopes up? I will still be here. The only difference is that if I get my hopes up and it does not work out, I would have enjoyed the possibility process and have some great memories!
This is the shift I write about. We spend too much time mentally and emotionally preparing ourselves to not be disappointed because it hurts to be let down. The amazing secret is that it is only by allowing ourselves to enjoy the dream of possibilities, even if they do not materialize the way we want them to, expansion, freedom and growth has to flourish. When we get our hopes up, we communicate with creative forces using thier language- feelings of joy.
"Oh, but Dennis, you don't want to jinx it by speaking about a book deal." Where do we get these odd beliefs? So there is voodoo involved in reaching for the stars? We have developed a whole societal infrastructure around preparing for the worst, yet we have more role models than ever before teaching us that we can have it all if we allow ourselves to think, feel, act and play as if we already do. It is time to let go of the notion that we better protect ourselves from disappointments. While we play this mental game of no-risk, a more exciting game is passing us by: Life.
In the meantime, I will dream of getting a wide distribution of my books. I will feel good now and if it does not happen, then I would have had some great feel good moments in the process. There is so much power in feeling as if you already have what you want. The deeper lesson lies in feeling good now, regardless of your circumstances.
Trust that inner voice beckoning you to think big.
If we believe that we are creating our reality as we go along, then intuition is nothing else but our own unique formula for that which we are creating. It is the feelings behind manifestation.
Intuition can indeed keep you from moving in a direction that may be dangerous, but it can also provide you, like it did for my wife, with the sense of peace and confidence needed to surrender to an action that opens doors.
A way to cultivate intuition is to first believe that it is our native language. Human beings are all born with this guidance system and if we choose not to believe so, it remains latent in us. It all starts with belief.
Another way to awaken intuition is to slow down enough to create space between our judgmental thoughts. Take time to, as Ram Dass says “digest your life experiences.” We are so busy having experiences and judging them good or bad that we don’t take the time to just sit and let our natural processes integrate our experiences for our highest good. Intuitive moments are born out of this inner cleanse.
I’d like to add one more way to increase intuitive abilities-Ask for it. Whether you want to ask God, angels, your higher-self or your super-conscious mind, take a moment in the stillness and darkness of the night and ask for guidance. You’ll undoubtedly be directed with the same words I have heard: “You are the one.” Don’t ask for the check. Sit a bit longer, and listen.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Can we ever be certain of our intuition?
It was the fall of 1994 and I was in the middle of my first term of a Master of Fine Arts program at the University of Missouri-Kansas City. We were about to start morning voice and speech warm up when a classmate of mine storms through the Performing Arts Center doors in our usual dramatic fashion.
“Fellas” he began. “I have just seen the woman I’m going to marry. She is a red-head, and I am in love.”
“Did you introduce yourself?” I asked
“Well no, not yet.”
As soon as class was over, another friend of mine and I decide to see for ourselves. We peaked into the adjacent dance studio and asked the love stricken puppy to point her out.
I turn to my other friend. “She is cute. I’m going to have to help this poor boy.” I figured, he was a country bumpkin and I was a street wise kid from the Bronx. I was sure I could help him cut to the chase and impress her.
I spent the next month advising him on how to approach her. What to say, what not to say. I became his Cyrano De Bergerac except he was too scared to speak to her. I introduced myself to the girl before he allowed himself to. I figured it was all for a good cause.
Then came the night I was to meet another classmate to rehearse a scene from Anton Chekov’s play Three Sisters. My scene partner was quite a character. When we would rehearse in her home she would be stricken with a case of narcolepsy and would fall asleep standing- in the middle of our scene! Was I that boring of an actor? I told her we just had to find a place to rehearse that would keep her awake, so we decided to meet the following evening at the Performing Arts Center. She was running late and there I was waiting in the front of the building for my sleeping beauty. Someone else was waiting. It was the red-headed girl. I felt a tug to strike up a conversation. I did not question my intuition. I went over and found out that she was waiting for some friends to celebrate her 21st birthday. We chatted for a few minutes and finally my scene partner arrived.
“Well, I’ve got to go.” I said. Happy Birthday.”
I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. I guarantee you that had I thought for a moment about kissing her on the cheek, I would not have done so. It was one of those rare but exquisite movements that have nothing to do with conscious awareness. You are being moved. The universe does not give you the option to resist or to override. You don’t surrender to the moment. The moment just happens.
My narcoleptic scene partner witnessed my brass and was wide-eyed when we walked into the PAC.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to steal her away?”
“I’m not doing anything. I just gave her a kiss on the cheek. It’s her birthday.”
I truly meant it at the time. Well, my Shakespearean classmate in love did have one date with the girl. There was in her words, “no chemistry." All he did with all the poetic lines I gave him was crack jokes. He gave up his quest to marry the red-head and soon left the university before the first year was out.
It took a few chance encounters and a new year’s resolution to start dating for me to finally ask her out. I did and within three months after our first date, she was inviting me to spend a month with her at her parent's home in Vancouver, Canada. How could I resist. The closest this New Yorker had ever been to the west coast was right where I was standing- Kansas City, Missouri. Sounds like an adventure.
I was not sure where our relationship was going, but she was about to teach me the meaning of certainty.
We were at a seafood restaurant on Vancouver Island enjoying the local catch, when she turns to me and says: “You are the one.”
“I’m the one what?”
“You are the one I’m going to marry.”
My universes split in two. Like a scene from the old show, Ally McBeal. One thought played itself out in my head.
“Can I have the check?”
Another thought actually became reality.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because I know.”
We just sat there. I did not question her any further. She had a look of assurance that I could not diminish.
We had only been dating for a few months, but she knew that she and I would be married. 15 years and two little angels later, here we are.
My wife is the visionary of the family. She has seen my potential years before I allowed myself to even consider a higher purpose. She was the one who said to me years ago. “You will be a published author. You will heal through your words”. I have questioned my intuition at times, but have never doubted hers.
Yesterday I received a call from a publisher of a world-wide company who has been moved and inspired by my blog to start circulating it around her company. When I told my wife, she began to well up.
“Why are you crying? I asked.
She then said: “Because this confirms what I have always seen and felt about you. It confirms my own path. I am here to see, then watch things unfold."
I was told not to get my hopes up about getting my blog published as a book. My response is still the same: "Why not?" Why not get my hopes up? I'm not after a book deal. I'm after a state of being. If it feels good to dream of a major book deal, then I choose to feel good. Tomorrow will worry about itself. What is the worst thing that can happen if I get my hopes up? I will still be here. The only difference is that if I get my hopes up and it does not work out, I would have enjoyed the possibility process and have some great memories!
This is the shift I write about. We spend too much time mentally and emotionally preparing ourselves to not be disappointed because it hurts to be let down. The amazing secret is that it is only by allowing ourselves to enjoy the dream of possibilities, even if they do not materialize the way we want them to, expansion, freedom and growth has to flourish. When we get our hopes up, we communicate with creative forces using thier language- feelings of joy.
"Oh, but Dennis, you don't want to jinx it by speaking about a book deal." Where do we get these odd beliefs? So there is voodoo involved in reaching for the stars? We have developed a whole societal infrastructure around preparing for the worst, yet we have more role models than ever before teaching us that we can have it all if we allow ourselves to think, feel, act and play as if we already do. It is time to let go of the notion that we better protect ourselves from disappointments. While we play this mental game of no-risk, a more exciting game is passing us by: Life.
In the meantime, I will dream of getting a wide distribution of my books. I will feel good now and if it does not happen, then I would have had some great feel good moments in the process. There is so much power in feeling as if you already have what you want. The deeper lesson lies in feeling good now, regardless of your circumstances.
Trust that inner voice beckoning you to think big.
If we believe that we are creating our reality as we go along, then intuition is nothing else but our own unique formula for that which we are creating. It is the feelings behind manifestation.
Intuition can indeed keep you from moving in a direction that may be dangerous, but it can also provide you, like it did for my wife, with the sense of peace and confidence needed to surrender to an action that opens doors.
A way to cultivate intuition is to first believe that it is our native language. Human beings are all born with this guidance system and if we choose not to believe so, it remains latent in us. It all starts with belief.
Another way to awaken intuition is to slow down enough to create space between our judgmental thoughts. Take time to, as Ram Dass says “digest your life experiences.” We are so busy having experiences and judging them good or bad that we don’t take the time to just sit and let our natural processes integrate our experiences for our highest good. Intuitive moments are born out of this inner cleanse.
I’d like to add one more way to increase intuitive abilities-Ask for it. Whether you want to ask God, angels, your higher-self or your super-conscious mind, take a moment in the stillness and darkness of the night and ask for guidance. You’ll undoubtedly be directed with the same words I have heard: “You are the one.” Don’t ask for the check. Sit a bit longer, and listen.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 13
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
There are so many places I want to go with The Superman Effect. It is my quest, but it is also the quest of all. I see the mythological hero’s journey; shedding the skin of the old serpent and touching the transcendent, but I also see modern thought from books like Mindsight or Blink, revealing the moment of personal transformation. I believe history, however grim, has much to teach us about whether there are movements afoot towards a collective moment when everything changes: The assasination of Archduke Ferdinand, Pearl Harbor, Woodstock, 9/11, 12/21/2012. As I read about the moment when everything changed in lives of influential people, I keep coming back to one word: Mystery.
“This cannot be real.” As a child I thought this thought all too often. How could I live out an existence where the most dramatic moments were always filled with conflict instead of happiness? I knew that my dad was hurting and that the yelling was a way to release his many years of pain. There was nothing I could do about us being in the line of fire except to withdraw deep into my inner world, searching for freedom amidst fear. I don’t think my father knew how destructive and scary yelling was, especially when directed towards our mother. She did her share of yelling but it was not the same. The man had the physical strength and so the fear that yelling would escalate to violence was always present and always scary.
I looked forward to the moment when a director would yell “cut” and my family would reveal themselves as actors in a movie designed just for me. “This cannot be real.” “What if it is real?” I had to believe that I was on this earth to play and have fun, not to worry about the safety of my mother and sisters. Growing up in the Bronx with news about gang violence, the Son of Sam or rampant drug abuse was frightening enough, was there no place where I can find peace?
I would head to the basement of our home and find peace in retreats of quiet and solitude. There was a peculiar dynamic in these moments of isolation: they typically revealed mysteries that intrigued me enough to attempt to unlock.
My mind has always been curious about mystery. “How could Jesus be my brother and God at the same time? How could he rule with an iron rod and look to be in so much pain nailed to the cross? What is air made out of? Who taught me to breathe? If I dig deep enough, will I really get to China?”
As I lay with my toy soldiers alone in our basement, I feel a pull to look out the 2 ft square window leading up to the ground floor. That is when I saw her. A woman dressed in all black, running towards our back yard. She stops in her tracks to turn and look at me: “Please, don’t follow me.” I could go out the back basement door but that would place me right in the middle of her spooky drama. I decided instead, to go up stairs and look out the ground floor window overlooking my back yard. She was nowhere to be found. I was scared, but it was a different kind of fear. Not of the type that lived with me as familiar broken glass, slamming doors or high pitched screams. It was a fear of the mystery of it all and it was exciting. I had never felt excitement in the presence of fear. Who was she? Where did she go? Why did I see her? What if I would have gone out the back door or spoken to her? What might have happened next?
The next morning I decided to go out into the back yard to see if there were any signs of her visitation. As I scoured the yard, I came across a piece of dirt that seemed less compact than the rest. I started digging and then I found what I was searching for. It was a rock about the size of a human heart with foreign symbols painted on it. I quickly ran inside my house and showed the rock to my mother and sisters. My mother immediately showed it to our tenant who lived in a small apartment adjacent to our basement. The tenant was into Santeria or “the way of the saints”- a mixture of Roman Catholicism and worship of African deities. “This is not good.” she said. “It is a curse and we must get rid of it. Get me a paper bag. We will put it in the bag and take it to a busy street. I will drop it and we will start walking back. You must not look back. Whatever you do, you must not look back.” I felt an unfamiliar thrill go through my body. “I have uncovered something that some say should have remained hidden. Can I do it? Can I get rid of it and not look back?”
Ever since that day, I have been looking for more mystery to be revealed in my life. I have been searching for the moment when I dig up the object of my fear, dispose of it and do not look back. The moment when a new path is charted that is good and full of blessings not curses.
This moment has one purpose: To teach us that fear is an illusion and that the object does not exist. What happens next in the life of one who arrives at this moment is glorious. A new being emerges and a clear vision of service is revealed that is in flow with the forces of the universe. WE are revealed: the royal WE that has as its birthright divine consciousness. This moment brings with it the recognition that we are the creators of our reality and that the time has come to operate from a place of knowing without attention to the vacillations of the human mind.
This book is about the moment. When does it arrive? Can we speed up its arrival? What happens to a person during the moment? Are we headed towards a collective moment when evolution takes a quantum leap and we serve a greater purpose of a grander scale?
I am not alone in this quest for the moment when everything changes. The conscious mind is not aware of all the motions of the universe, but all humans have an insatiable yearning for a fuller integration of mystery into our everyday reality….
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
There are so many places I want to go with The Superman Effect. It is my quest, but it is also the quest of all. I see the mythological hero’s journey; shedding the skin of the old serpent and touching the transcendent, but I also see modern thought from books like Mindsight or Blink, revealing the moment of personal transformation. I believe history, however grim, has much to teach us about whether there are movements afoot towards a collective moment when everything changes: The assasination of Archduke Ferdinand, Pearl Harbor, Woodstock, 9/11, 12/21/2012. As I read about the moment when everything changed in lives of influential people, I keep coming back to one word: Mystery.
“This cannot be real.” As a child I thought this thought all too often. How could I live out an existence where the most dramatic moments were always filled with conflict instead of happiness? I knew that my dad was hurting and that the yelling was a way to release his many years of pain. There was nothing I could do about us being in the line of fire except to withdraw deep into my inner world, searching for freedom amidst fear. I don’t think my father knew how destructive and scary yelling was, especially when directed towards our mother. She did her share of yelling but it was not the same. The man had the physical strength and so the fear that yelling would escalate to violence was always present and always scary.
I looked forward to the moment when a director would yell “cut” and my family would reveal themselves as actors in a movie designed just for me. “This cannot be real.” “What if it is real?” I had to believe that I was on this earth to play and have fun, not to worry about the safety of my mother and sisters. Growing up in the Bronx with news about gang violence, the Son of Sam or rampant drug abuse was frightening enough, was there no place where I can find peace?
I would head to the basement of our home and find peace in retreats of quiet and solitude. There was a peculiar dynamic in these moments of isolation: they typically revealed mysteries that intrigued me enough to attempt to unlock.
My mind has always been curious about mystery. “How could Jesus be my brother and God at the same time? How could he rule with an iron rod and look to be in so much pain nailed to the cross? What is air made out of? Who taught me to breathe? If I dig deep enough, will I really get to China?”
As I lay with my toy soldiers alone in our basement, I feel a pull to look out the 2 ft square window leading up to the ground floor. That is when I saw her. A woman dressed in all black, running towards our back yard. She stops in her tracks to turn and look at me: “Please, don’t follow me.” I could go out the back basement door but that would place me right in the middle of her spooky drama. I decided instead, to go up stairs and look out the ground floor window overlooking my back yard. She was nowhere to be found. I was scared, but it was a different kind of fear. Not of the type that lived with me as familiar broken glass, slamming doors or high pitched screams. It was a fear of the mystery of it all and it was exciting. I had never felt excitement in the presence of fear. Who was she? Where did she go? Why did I see her? What if I would have gone out the back door or spoken to her? What might have happened next?
The next morning I decided to go out into the back yard to see if there were any signs of her visitation. As I scoured the yard, I came across a piece of dirt that seemed less compact than the rest. I started digging and then I found what I was searching for. It was a rock about the size of a human heart with foreign symbols painted on it. I quickly ran inside my house and showed the rock to my mother and sisters. My mother immediately showed it to our tenant who lived in a small apartment adjacent to our basement. The tenant was into Santeria or “the way of the saints”- a mixture of Roman Catholicism and worship of African deities. “This is not good.” she said. “It is a curse and we must get rid of it. Get me a paper bag. We will put it in the bag and take it to a busy street. I will drop it and we will start walking back. You must not look back. Whatever you do, you must not look back.” I felt an unfamiliar thrill go through my body. “I have uncovered something that some say should have remained hidden. Can I do it? Can I get rid of it and not look back?”
Ever since that day, I have been looking for more mystery to be revealed in my life. I have been searching for the moment when I dig up the object of my fear, dispose of it and do not look back. The moment when a new path is charted that is good and full of blessings not curses.
This moment has one purpose: To teach us that fear is an illusion and that the object does not exist. What happens next in the life of one who arrives at this moment is glorious. A new being emerges and a clear vision of service is revealed that is in flow with the forces of the universe. WE are revealed: the royal WE that has as its birthright divine consciousness. This moment brings with it the recognition that we are the creators of our reality and that the time has come to operate from a place of knowing without attention to the vacillations of the human mind.
This book is about the moment. When does it arrive? Can we speed up its arrival? What happens to a person during the moment? Are we headed towards a collective moment when evolution takes a quantum leap and we serve a greater purpose of a grander scale?
I am not alone in this quest for the moment when everything changes. The conscious mind is not aware of all the motions of the universe, but all humans have an insatiable yearning for a fuller integration of mystery into our everyday reality….
Friday, January 22, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 12
Today was one of those days where everything just flowed. I spent the morning at a neighborhood coffee shop connecting with people over the phone about an upcoming tour to Italy that I am selling to view the Shroud of Turin. I decided to call STERA, Inc in Colorado Springs and try to get my tour advertised on their website. STERA stands for the Shroud of Turin Education and Research Association. I left a message for the founder and Executive Director, Barrie M. Schwortz.
Barrie is no ordinary devotee of the Shroud of Turin, believed to be by millions the burial cloth of Jesus Christ. Barrie was the original documenting photographer sent to Turin, Italy by the scientific community in 1988 to investigate the Shroud’s authenticity. The results were conclusive and unanimous. After three independent labs in three different continents attested to the age of the Shroud, it was reported to be a medieval forgery with the linen having a 12th century Carbon-14 date.
The years following, have revealed many questions contesting the validity of the radio-carbon dating, including evidence that there was interwoven fabric from another time period that may have been the cause of the later dating. Faith has reclaimed the Shroud and the book that was closed after the 1988 investigation, has now been re-opened.
I only needed to wait 20 minutes and he returned my call. He agreed to post information about my tour with my name and number on his website which has received 2.8 million unique visitors. He was also kind enough to give me an hour of his time. We spoke about his journey since 1988, his thoughts on what science can answer and what will remain an article of faith and the moment in which everything changed for him. The moment that he knew he would dedicate his life to the propagation of the Shroud. I asked if he would let me profile him in my book and he agreed. Look out for his story in The Superman Effect: Stories of the Moment When Everything Changes.
I asked him: “What does the imprint on the shroud say about the resurrection?”
He mentioned to me that even American chemist Raymond Rogers, who is a leading expert on thermal analysis and also on the original investigative team, claims there is no known radiation that can cause the imprint of the Shroud. What caused the imprint and the detail seen in a photo negative is as much a mystery as the resurrection and will remain that way.
Barrie Schwortz is not a Christian or a messianic Jew, but believes after 25 years of study, that the Shroud is the burial cloth of the historical Jesus. I told him what I told you on the day I quit my job. “I want to see the Shroud.”
To have spent one hour with one of the original team members investigating the Shroud, is manifestation in action.
While we were on the phone, the History Channel called him. Barrie told them he would need to call them back. I was floored. They are doing a two-hour special on the Shroud airing in April in which Barrie will be featured.
It was an amazing time for me to be so close to the history of the Shroud of Turin. He said if I make it to Italy, even if not part of a tour, he will get me in to their lecture hall. There will be scientist present and it promises to be an enlightening experience.
Yesterday, I heard about a woman who has a Spiritual Coaching Certification program. Coming from Academia, I welcome certifications. Her website intrigued me so I sent her a note and my blog. She replied with this message:
“Dear Dennis,
I have enjoyed reading your blog and appreciate your interest the Spiritual Coaching Certification. You certainly have a wonderful writing career in front of you as well as consulting. What a beautiful gift you bring to the world! I am sending your contact information to Director of Education and she will contact you about our program to see if it is a mutual fit.
Many blessings on your journey!”
Metatransformations Consulting is becoming a reality as is everything I dream of. I am convinced that there is no limit to what we can create except the limits we put on who we think we are. I see myself going to book signings all over the world. I feel the exhilaration of speaking to large groups about the relinquishing of fear and illusions, while being fully present for the magic moments at home. Most importantly, I see behind me a trail of many blessing from my journey. Blessing for the others to follow.
My daughter told her first grade school mate yesterday: "My dad is an author and he is selling a million books!"
Barrie is no ordinary devotee of the Shroud of Turin, believed to be by millions the burial cloth of Jesus Christ. Barrie was the original documenting photographer sent to Turin, Italy by the scientific community in 1988 to investigate the Shroud’s authenticity. The results were conclusive and unanimous. After three independent labs in three different continents attested to the age of the Shroud, it was reported to be a medieval forgery with the linen having a 12th century Carbon-14 date.
The years following, have revealed many questions contesting the validity of the radio-carbon dating, including evidence that there was interwoven fabric from another time period that may have been the cause of the later dating. Faith has reclaimed the Shroud and the book that was closed after the 1988 investigation, has now been re-opened.
I only needed to wait 20 minutes and he returned my call. He agreed to post information about my tour with my name and number on his website which has received 2.8 million unique visitors. He was also kind enough to give me an hour of his time. We spoke about his journey since 1988, his thoughts on what science can answer and what will remain an article of faith and the moment in which everything changed for him. The moment that he knew he would dedicate his life to the propagation of the Shroud. I asked if he would let me profile him in my book and he agreed. Look out for his story in The Superman Effect: Stories of the Moment When Everything Changes.
I asked him: “What does the imprint on the shroud say about the resurrection?”
He mentioned to me that even American chemist Raymond Rogers, who is a leading expert on thermal analysis and also on the original investigative team, claims there is no known radiation that can cause the imprint of the Shroud. What caused the imprint and the detail seen in a photo negative is as much a mystery as the resurrection and will remain that way.
Barrie Schwortz is not a Christian or a messianic Jew, but believes after 25 years of study, that the Shroud is the burial cloth of the historical Jesus. I told him what I told you on the day I quit my job. “I want to see the Shroud.”
To have spent one hour with one of the original team members investigating the Shroud, is manifestation in action.
While we were on the phone, the History Channel called him. Barrie told them he would need to call them back. I was floored. They are doing a two-hour special on the Shroud airing in April in which Barrie will be featured.
It was an amazing time for me to be so close to the history of the Shroud of Turin. He said if I make it to Italy, even if not part of a tour, he will get me in to their lecture hall. There will be scientist present and it promises to be an enlightening experience.
Yesterday, I heard about a woman who has a Spiritual Coaching Certification program. Coming from Academia, I welcome certifications. Her website intrigued me so I sent her a note and my blog. She replied with this message:
“Dear Dennis,
I have enjoyed reading your blog and appreciate your interest the Spiritual Coaching Certification. You certainly have a wonderful writing career in front of you as well as consulting. What a beautiful gift you bring to the world! I am sending your contact information to Director of Education and she will contact you about our program to see if it is a mutual fit.
Many blessings on your journey!”
Metatransformations Consulting is becoming a reality as is everything I dream of. I am convinced that there is no limit to what we can create except the limits we put on who we think we are. I see myself going to book signings all over the world. I feel the exhilaration of speaking to large groups about the relinquishing of fear and illusions, while being fully present for the magic moments at home. Most importantly, I see behind me a trail of many blessing from my journey. Blessing for the others to follow.
My daughter told her first grade school mate yesterday: "My dad is an author and he is selling a million books!"
Thursday, January 21, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 11
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
The journey is everything. A friend of mine asked me if I was going to hide my website until it is finished. I thought: “Why would I do that? I want everyone to go through this process of manifestation with me in real-time. I don’t want to focus on just revealing a finished product. 5 billion years ago, If God would have waited until the universe looked perfect and complete, we would still be waiting for the big bang.”
Waiting till the site is perfect, is just another projection of my insecurities. “Is it good enough?” “Am I good enough?” It is time to take a break from self-analysis and trust that I am being guided towards a transcendent, if yet concealed perfection. Not a perfection that I need to explain or even understand but one that I experience with my entire being.
Why do we spend so much time in self-analysis? Human beings are the most complex form of life on this planet, and we spend most of our limited days trying to crack the code of our unlimited human mind. Self-analysis serves its purpose in traditional therapies but when it consumes our thoughts and experiences, it adds density to our energy fields. This density leads to stress, lack of intuition and the inability to even remember our dreams which is an important component to healing and transformation. Meditation is a great way to practice taking a break from self-analysis. Another wonderful way is the practice of non-judgment. Just tell yourself the next time you have a thought that leads to over thinking about your place in the universe: “There is no error in the game. I AM exactly where I need to be and exactly who I need to be at this moment.”
Too much self-analysis rarely leads to insights or bliss. These moments of inspiration are reserved for delightfully spontaneous recognition. Slowing down our thinking and learning to sense the gap between thoughts actually taps the muse on the shoulder and she turns to us showering more inspiration into our lives. There is no error and it’s all a perfect dance.
A friend, who sells high quality ergonomic chairs called me today to invite me to join him at a convention of Dentists tomorrow. The muse is hilarious sometimes. He is not German. He’s Dutch. Close enough!
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
The journey is everything. A friend of mine asked me if I was going to hide my website until it is finished. I thought: “Why would I do that? I want everyone to go through this process of manifestation with me in real-time. I don’t want to focus on just revealing a finished product. 5 billion years ago, If God would have waited until the universe looked perfect and complete, we would still be waiting for the big bang.”
Waiting till the site is perfect, is just another projection of my insecurities. “Is it good enough?” “Am I good enough?” It is time to take a break from self-analysis and trust that I am being guided towards a transcendent, if yet concealed perfection. Not a perfection that I need to explain or even understand but one that I experience with my entire being.
Why do we spend so much time in self-analysis? Human beings are the most complex form of life on this planet, and we spend most of our limited days trying to crack the code of our unlimited human mind. Self-analysis serves its purpose in traditional therapies but when it consumes our thoughts and experiences, it adds density to our energy fields. This density leads to stress, lack of intuition and the inability to even remember our dreams which is an important component to healing and transformation. Meditation is a great way to practice taking a break from self-analysis. Another wonderful way is the practice of non-judgment. Just tell yourself the next time you have a thought that leads to over thinking about your place in the universe: “There is no error in the game. I AM exactly where I need to be and exactly who I need to be at this moment.”
Too much self-analysis rarely leads to insights or bliss. These moments of inspiration are reserved for delightfully spontaneous recognition. Slowing down our thinking and learning to sense the gap between thoughts actually taps the muse on the shoulder and she turns to us showering more inspiration into our lives. There is no error and it’s all a perfect dance.
A friend, who sells high quality ergonomic chairs called me today to invite me to join him at a convention of Dentists tomorrow. The muse is hilarious sometimes. He is not German. He’s Dutch. Close enough!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 10
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Have you ever felt like not meeting anyone’s expectations of what you should do or who you should be? Have you ever felt like not identifying with any role? Have you ever felt like not going in to work? Well, my first big test of life after the university came today: the first day that I just did not feel like writing, reading, meditating nor doing anything? Now to many, this might not seem like a big deal, but for me it is the greatest of all blasphemies. My resistance to not wanting to work today and the pain it caused me was like an apocalyptic battle between good and evil.
I had a few errands to run including going to the social security office to correct my date of birth and going to the dreaded Dental office for a filling. At the Social Security Office, I tried to read while I waited for 35 people in front of me to work through their issues with the non-Spanish speaking teller, the rude homeland security guard, and the loud speaker calling out inaudible sounds that were supposed to feebly direct the next in line. I could not focus on one word I was reading and so I gave up. After 30 minutes had passed, the monitor had registered a progress of one and my dental appointment was in one hour. Having the correct date of birth on my Social Security statement would have to wait. I felt I had wasted the morning and I was in a state of self-pity. The feeling was intensified the minute I walked into the dental office. Anxiety is my Pavlovian response of choice whenever I go to the dentist and I blame the German dentist from the Bronx.
When I was 10 years old, I collided with another boy while playing tag. Now the impact itself was not harmful but the direction it sent both of us created two pools of blood. We banged right into the school’s steel bar fence. He broke his nose and cried like a baby. I just cracked my four front teeth and initiated the inevitable long term relationship with the only dentist in the neighborhood that would take my dad’s insurance. This dentist was the female version of Lawrence Olivier ‘s character in the movie Marathon Man. She was a German dentist in her 70’s and had dental equipment that looked like it was from WWII- the big one. Instead of Olivier’s “Is it safe?” line, she would repeat over and over again with a thick German accent- “A little pressure.” I dreaded my visits with her but I had no choice. She had me right where she wanted me- strapped to a light blue leather chair with a seat belt! By the age of 15, the visits to Glicksman Dental ended but the conditioned response of anxiety and tension remains.
Instead of chalking up the day to social service blues and dental anxiety, I beat myself up for not writing, researching, or selling. I felt all day today like I was strapped to the same WWII dental chair. This time, the chair was the mental trapping of what people would think of me if they knew I did not have a productive day today? What if I never feel productive again? My imprisoned thoughts created tears of fear. I went home and decided to go for a run. Not because I wanted to, but because I needed to try to shake off the state I was in. I didn’t know what I would say to my wife when she asked “How was your day?” While I ran listening to Ram Dass on my Ipod, I finally unbuckled my seat belt and released the guy who is not caught up in the drama of meeting other’s expectations. That is when it hit me; I am free. I don’t have to do anything to prove my worth. I can stay calm and centered when inner dramas stemming from 20 year old experiences try to create a bridge to my present reality.
So I had a breakthrough today. Not of the type that comes with a book deal or an opportunity to reach millions but a more important breakthrough, that left me with a feeling of being free of the inner trappings created by years of being on life’s stage. This revelation of freedom from identification with my roles, will do more to prepare me for my new career than any stories I might tell, meetings I might attend, or words I might write.
I could not wait to get on my computer and write about it.
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Have you ever felt like not meeting anyone’s expectations of what you should do or who you should be? Have you ever felt like not identifying with any role? Have you ever felt like not going in to work? Well, my first big test of life after the university came today: the first day that I just did not feel like writing, reading, meditating nor doing anything? Now to many, this might not seem like a big deal, but for me it is the greatest of all blasphemies. My resistance to not wanting to work today and the pain it caused me was like an apocalyptic battle between good and evil.
I had a few errands to run including going to the social security office to correct my date of birth and going to the dreaded Dental office for a filling. At the Social Security Office, I tried to read while I waited for 35 people in front of me to work through their issues with the non-Spanish speaking teller, the rude homeland security guard, and the loud speaker calling out inaudible sounds that were supposed to feebly direct the next in line. I could not focus on one word I was reading and so I gave up. After 30 minutes had passed, the monitor had registered a progress of one and my dental appointment was in one hour. Having the correct date of birth on my Social Security statement would have to wait. I felt I had wasted the morning and I was in a state of self-pity. The feeling was intensified the minute I walked into the dental office. Anxiety is my Pavlovian response of choice whenever I go to the dentist and I blame the German dentist from the Bronx.
When I was 10 years old, I collided with another boy while playing tag. Now the impact itself was not harmful but the direction it sent both of us created two pools of blood. We banged right into the school’s steel bar fence. He broke his nose and cried like a baby. I just cracked my four front teeth and initiated the inevitable long term relationship with the only dentist in the neighborhood that would take my dad’s insurance. This dentist was the female version of Lawrence Olivier ‘s character in the movie Marathon Man. She was a German dentist in her 70’s and had dental equipment that looked like it was from WWII- the big one. Instead of Olivier’s “Is it safe?” line, she would repeat over and over again with a thick German accent- “A little pressure.” I dreaded my visits with her but I had no choice. She had me right where she wanted me- strapped to a light blue leather chair with a seat belt! By the age of 15, the visits to Glicksman Dental ended but the conditioned response of anxiety and tension remains.
Instead of chalking up the day to social service blues and dental anxiety, I beat myself up for not writing, researching, or selling. I felt all day today like I was strapped to the same WWII dental chair. This time, the chair was the mental trapping of what people would think of me if they knew I did not have a productive day today? What if I never feel productive again? My imprisoned thoughts created tears of fear. I went home and decided to go for a run. Not because I wanted to, but because I needed to try to shake off the state I was in. I didn’t know what I would say to my wife when she asked “How was your day?” While I ran listening to Ram Dass on my Ipod, I finally unbuckled my seat belt and released the guy who is not caught up in the drama of meeting other’s expectations. That is when it hit me; I am free. I don’t have to do anything to prove my worth. I can stay calm and centered when inner dramas stemming from 20 year old experiences try to create a bridge to my present reality.
So I had a breakthrough today. Not of the type that comes with a book deal or an opportunity to reach millions but a more important breakthrough, that left me with a feeling of being free of the inner trappings created by years of being on life’s stage. This revelation of freedom from identification with my roles, will do more to prepare me for my new career than any stories I might tell, meetings I might attend, or words I might write.
I could not wait to get on my computer and write about it.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 9
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
One of my favorite sayings of Ram Dass is “Relax it will all become clearer.” He used to say this during a lecture when the audience looked glazed over, yet straining to follow along. Something hadn’t yet clicked but he was not going to worry about it. These words have never been truer or more poignant for me than they are right now.
Another way to look at letting go of fear is learning to trust. I have a quiet sense of determination and certainty that I am riding the current of bliss. Something tells me that this is the time to believe that not only will I be a published author who transforms lives through a recognition of one’s own perfection, but that I will do it with ease. It will not be hard.
Yesterday, my wife turned on a television show called ironically, The Oprah Effect. It was about how everyone who wanted instant success wanted to get on Oprah and that there was a book written on how to do it. It profiled a few stories including a woman who has been blogging for the past year on her experiences following Oprah’s advice to the letter (WWOD- What Would Oprah Do?). She has since been given a book deal.
Now, watching this show could have been depressing. I could have jumped on the “why is that not me?” Express Train, lamenting the pace of my own instant recognition, except for one small point: This show was created to show me that it will be me! That’s right. The CNBC show, and all the hours put in by writers, producers, set designers and grips subconsciously embedded some of the many hidden messages being revealed to me about how the universe is listening to my desires. A show called not the Superman Effect but the Oprah Effect. (Come on!) A woman landing a book deal from a daily blog (I love it!). A recent acquaintance excited about my writing who happens to have worked with Deepak Chopra and had the forward of her own book written by Wayne Dyer. A dream with James Van Praagh where he reminds me to be patient and just do my work and dreams that release fear all the while putting me in the middle of the Hero’s journey- a perfect model for the Superman Effect.
The “why is that not me” train also leads to a reality: The reality of it not being me. The very fact that I am slowing down my thinking enough to choose to not get on the train, says to me that I am already learning one of life’s greatest lessons. My thinking creates my life. I am not saying I am going to be Oprah. With all deference to the Queen, that is not my goal in life. I am saying I will reach millions through my writing. The how is not important as long as I am clear on the “what” and the “why”. The “how” will make itself known in due time.
“Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.”- Matthew 6:34.
In other words:
“Relax, it will all become clearer.”
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
One of my favorite sayings of Ram Dass is “Relax it will all become clearer.” He used to say this during a lecture when the audience looked glazed over, yet straining to follow along. Something hadn’t yet clicked but he was not going to worry about it. These words have never been truer or more poignant for me than they are right now.
Another way to look at letting go of fear is learning to trust. I have a quiet sense of determination and certainty that I am riding the current of bliss. Something tells me that this is the time to believe that not only will I be a published author who transforms lives through a recognition of one’s own perfection, but that I will do it with ease. It will not be hard.
Yesterday, my wife turned on a television show called ironically, The Oprah Effect. It was about how everyone who wanted instant success wanted to get on Oprah and that there was a book written on how to do it. It profiled a few stories including a woman who has been blogging for the past year on her experiences following Oprah’s advice to the letter (WWOD- What Would Oprah Do?). She has since been given a book deal.
Now, watching this show could have been depressing. I could have jumped on the “why is that not me?” Express Train, lamenting the pace of my own instant recognition, except for one small point: This show was created to show me that it will be me! That’s right. The CNBC show, and all the hours put in by writers, producers, set designers and grips subconsciously embedded some of the many hidden messages being revealed to me about how the universe is listening to my desires. A show called not the Superman Effect but the Oprah Effect. (Come on!) A woman landing a book deal from a daily blog (I love it!). A recent acquaintance excited about my writing who happens to have worked with Deepak Chopra and had the forward of her own book written by Wayne Dyer. A dream with James Van Praagh where he reminds me to be patient and just do my work and dreams that release fear all the while putting me in the middle of the Hero’s journey- a perfect model for the Superman Effect.
The “why is that not me” train also leads to a reality: The reality of it not being me. The very fact that I am slowing down my thinking enough to choose to not get on the train, says to me that I am already learning one of life’s greatest lessons. My thinking creates my life. I am not saying I am going to be Oprah. With all deference to the Queen, that is not my goal in life. I am saying I will reach millions through my writing. The how is not important as long as I am clear on the “what” and the “why”. The “how” will make itself known in due time.
“Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.”- Matthew 6:34.
In other words:
“Relax, it will all become clearer.”
Monday, January 18, 2010
30 Days To A New Life- Day 8
Dennis Rodriguez is in:
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Myths and dreams come from the same place.
As I immerse myself in Joseph Campbell’s work on mythology learning about the hero's journey as a pathway to transformation, it is no surprise that my dream life has become extremely vivid. Or it may have been due to the Night-time yoga DVD I participated in last night?
Whatever the reason, there was some serious unlocking of repressed fear going on in my dream state. Something is working its way out and it is big! The past two nights I have witnessed the most violent and scariest dreams since I saw the archetypal old hag coming at me with an ax at the age of four. Now I must preface what I am about to tell you by saying that I do not watch gory violence on TV or in the movies. I do not read books about creatures of the night. I enjoy fictitious or real communication with an occasional friendly ghost, but take no pleasure in ghouls or goblins threatening to suck me dry or zombies tormenting me for 28 days. However; when the unconscious mind decides to dislodge some deep seeded memories, it chooses from an array of collective sources- the blockbuster movies, popular books, shared mythologies or simply the boundless reference guide: our timeless imagination.
I feel the need to reiterate that I am a non-violent man. I had one fight my entire life and it ended in a draw between two ten year old boys head locked for what seemed to be an hour, until Mrs. Belsky swooped in to break it up. Growing up in the Bronx did not mean I had to rendezvous with the tough guys. I was an actor not a fighter.
Two nights ago I dreamt that my life was threatened by a Chinese family of four. They came at me with Ginsu knives and I defended myself by killing each of them. I felt angry, which is an emotion that had not surfaced for a long time. I don’t like to get angry for fear of losing control. I remember all too vividly, the tantrums I used to throw when I was young and I was aware enough to know that my rants were not of a kid in check. I have also on occasion seen myself blurt out the nastiest of hurtful words when in a state of anger and vowed to keep the expression of my wrath to a bare minimum. I feel more at home with guilt, self criticism and fear than I do with potentially hurting someone else by letting it rip. So it is no wonder that the feeling of violent anger would reveal itself in my dreams. Upon waking, I felt the emotional release that followed this symbolic episode. I enjoy interpreting my dreams and the first image I got when I woke up was that of a dragon being slayed by a righteously indignant hero. Even though the dragon in Chinese mythology does not represent evil, my mental filters may have gotten in the way and personified the dragon with a Chinese family out to do me harm. It was a short dream but very violent. The power of dreams partly lies in their ability to provide a platform for the releasing of unwanted emotions. Now that guilt and its underlying anger has been dealt with, it is time to face existential fear.
Last night, I dreamt of a friendly teenager who wanted my best friend and I to join his club. Sounds harmless enough. Then the proverbial fangs came out. Oh no, it is Twilight in 3D!
I have avoided the Twilight series like the plague in “real” life. No matter- the undead was out to get us. We ran like our souls depended on it and my best friend was able to jump inside a bus before its doors closed. I was not so lucky. I ran as fast as I could after the bus all the while turning around to see the one blood-thirsty teenager turn into 100 vociferous vampires. I was able to grab on to the bus and hang on to a railing long enough for the driver let me in. My best friend and I looked through the window at the back of the bus. “They are gaining on us. Put the pedal to the metal!” Finally some distance. Suddenly I hear a semi-familiar voice “Daddy,Daddy.” It is my three year old daughter to let me know that she wet her pull up. It’s time to change a diaper. I am awake.
“Glad that’s over. What is going on? What am I letting go of?”
I went back to sleep and jumped right back in to Twilight: The Sequel. This time I am with my wife and her father. He is here to protect us. I have no idea what happened to my best friend. As long as my father in law is with us, no harm can come to us. No sooner had I thought this, then he and I were surrounded by vampires. They dive right into my father in law. “Run Dennis, run!!” I find my wife who is lying asleep with sleeping pads over her eyes. “We have to get out of here. Your father is dead. They will come after us. She gets up. I wake up.
Again, it is the feeling I am left with that is most compelling. The imagery is up for interpretation but there is no doubt that I felt a release of fear. In some ways I have slain the dragon that says I won’t cut it as a writer. I have outrun the fear of not measuring up. Dreams are a funny thing because like in life, we avoid the scary scenes. Yet it is in these unwelcomed symbols that healing can be found. The stuff of our life is our vehicle for personal transformation. No exceptions.
Dreams are gifts that say “if you need to use something you already believe is not real, then try this on for size. This might help.”
The Next Top Spiritual Author Competition
Click link to Vote: http://www.nexttopauthor.com/profile.cfm?aid=1005
Myths and dreams come from the same place.
As I immerse myself in Joseph Campbell’s work on mythology learning about the hero's journey as a pathway to transformation, it is no surprise that my dream life has become extremely vivid. Or it may have been due to the Night-time yoga DVD I participated in last night?
Whatever the reason, there was some serious unlocking of repressed fear going on in my dream state. Something is working its way out and it is big! The past two nights I have witnessed the most violent and scariest dreams since I saw the archetypal old hag coming at me with an ax at the age of four. Now I must preface what I am about to tell you by saying that I do not watch gory violence on TV or in the movies. I do not read books about creatures of the night. I enjoy fictitious or real communication with an occasional friendly ghost, but take no pleasure in ghouls or goblins threatening to suck me dry or zombies tormenting me for 28 days. However; when the unconscious mind decides to dislodge some deep seeded memories, it chooses from an array of collective sources- the blockbuster movies, popular books, shared mythologies or simply the boundless reference guide: our timeless imagination.
I feel the need to reiterate that I am a non-violent man. I had one fight my entire life and it ended in a draw between two ten year old boys head locked for what seemed to be an hour, until Mrs. Belsky swooped in to break it up. Growing up in the Bronx did not mean I had to rendezvous with the tough guys. I was an actor not a fighter.
Two nights ago I dreamt that my life was threatened by a Chinese family of four. They came at me with Ginsu knives and I defended myself by killing each of them. I felt angry, which is an emotion that had not surfaced for a long time. I don’t like to get angry for fear of losing control. I remember all too vividly, the tantrums I used to throw when I was young and I was aware enough to know that my rants were not of a kid in check. I have also on occasion seen myself blurt out the nastiest of hurtful words when in a state of anger and vowed to keep the expression of my wrath to a bare minimum. I feel more at home with guilt, self criticism and fear than I do with potentially hurting someone else by letting it rip. So it is no wonder that the feeling of violent anger would reveal itself in my dreams. Upon waking, I felt the emotional release that followed this symbolic episode. I enjoy interpreting my dreams and the first image I got when I woke up was that of a dragon being slayed by a righteously indignant hero. Even though the dragon in Chinese mythology does not represent evil, my mental filters may have gotten in the way and personified the dragon with a Chinese family out to do me harm. It was a short dream but very violent. The power of dreams partly lies in their ability to provide a platform for the releasing of unwanted emotions. Now that guilt and its underlying anger has been dealt with, it is time to face existential fear.
Last night, I dreamt of a friendly teenager who wanted my best friend and I to join his club. Sounds harmless enough. Then the proverbial fangs came out. Oh no, it is Twilight in 3D!
I have avoided the Twilight series like the plague in “real” life. No matter- the undead was out to get us. We ran like our souls depended on it and my best friend was able to jump inside a bus before its doors closed. I was not so lucky. I ran as fast as I could after the bus all the while turning around to see the one blood-thirsty teenager turn into 100 vociferous vampires. I was able to grab on to the bus and hang on to a railing long enough for the driver let me in. My best friend and I looked through the window at the back of the bus. “They are gaining on us. Put the pedal to the metal!” Finally some distance. Suddenly I hear a semi-familiar voice “Daddy,Daddy.” It is my three year old daughter to let me know that she wet her pull up. It’s time to change a diaper. I am awake.
“Glad that’s over. What is going on? What am I letting go of?”
I went back to sleep and jumped right back in to Twilight: The Sequel. This time I am with my wife and her father. He is here to protect us. I have no idea what happened to my best friend. As long as my father in law is with us, no harm can come to us. No sooner had I thought this, then he and I were surrounded by vampires. They dive right into my father in law. “Run Dennis, run!!” I find my wife who is lying asleep with sleeping pads over her eyes. “We have to get out of here. Your father is dead. They will come after us. She gets up. I wake up.
Again, it is the feeling I am left with that is most compelling. The imagery is up for interpretation but there is no doubt that I felt a release of fear. In some ways I have slain the dragon that says I won’t cut it as a writer. I have outrun the fear of not measuring up. Dreams are a funny thing because like in life, we avoid the scary scenes. Yet it is in these unwelcomed symbols that healing can be found. The stuff of our life is our vehicle for personal transformation. No exceptions.
Dreams are gifts that say “if you need to use something you already believe is not real, then try this on for size. This might help.”
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)