JD LeJeune

Timely: I’m sitting here listening to The Power of Intention by Wayne Dyer. I’ve also been immersed in Huna and Ho’oponopono this past week working on my reality and what I am creating in it!

Cocreating With The Universe

Most people don’t always fully realize that we all have within us the ability to cocreate our lives with the universe. So many of us are taught to accept what we are given and not even to dream of anything more. But our hopes and dreams are the universe whispering to us, planting an idea of what’s possible while directing us toward the best use of our gifts. The universe truly wants to give us our hearts’ desires, but we need to be clear about what they are and ask for them.

To ask for something does not mean to beg or plead from a place of lack or unworthiness. It’s like placing an order-we don’t need to beg the salesperson for what we want or prove to them that we deserve to have it. It is their job to give us what we ask for; we only have to tell them what we want. Once we have a clear vision of what we desire, we simply step into the silent realm where all possibilities exist and let our desires be known. Whatever methods we use to become still, it is important that we find the quiet space between our thoughts.

From that still and quiet place, we can announce our intentions to the pure energy of creation. By imagining all the details from every angle, including scent, color, and how it would feel to have it, we design our dreams to our specifications. Similar to dropping a pebble into a pond, the ripples created by our thoughts travel quickly from this place of stillness, echoing out into the world to align and orchestrate all the necessary details to bring our desires into manifestation. Before leaving this wonderful space to come back to the world, release any attachment to the outcome and express gratitude. By doing this daily, we focus our thoughts and our energy while regularly mingling with the essence that makes it possible to build the life of our dreams.

Today I received this image from a newsletter that I subscribe to. The author suggested that I write about whatever this image brings up in me. So, here goes…

The Frayed Rope: Having had times when I felt I was at the end of my rope and not knowing what was coming next was scary. Will I have enough money to enjoy the life I want? Will I be successful in my creative endeavors? Will I be able to become a stronger athlete and improve?

Looking at this image I see opportunity. Knowing what I know about seamanship and knot tying, when the end of the rope appears you have the opportunity to secure another line to it through splicing. Depending on the splice the connection can hold stronger than the orginal rope was capable of.

The end of a rope also means I have the opportunity to connect it to whatever I truly desire. If I am a rope what do I want to secure myself to? What do I want to lasso and pull into my life? Joy? Happiness? Abundance?

Knowing that all things are based first in thought I can choose to think myself stronger, wealthier, happier..etc. The Law of Attraction states that I create my own experience and what I choose to focus on manifests into my reality. “Thoughts become things, choose the good ones!”

I’m tieing this rope up to PURE JOY!

Who could forget this ray of sunshine? Melanie is a former resident of Fredericton as well as an alumni member of the Spawn club/Fredericton Ultimate. Melanie was a very active volunteer within the ultimate community. Not to mention her many hours spent helping out other individuals and organizations in our area when they were in need of a helping hand.

We ask that you please consider supporting Mel in her efforts to raise funds for her much needed surgery as well as her bid for the 2010 Canadian National Paralympic Ski Team.

Visit Mel2010.com for more information on how you can help Mel out. GO MEL!

Timely: This morning I was thinking how I would teach my children my truths about life.

You may be someone who understands the true nature of reality, perceiving deeply that we all emanate from the same source, that we are all essentially one, and that we are here on earth to love one another. To understand this is to be awakened to the true nature of the self, and it is a blessing. Nevertheless, people who just don’t get it are seemingly everywhere and, often, in positions of power. It can be frustrating and painful to watch them behave unconsciously. We all encounter individuals of this bent in our families, at work, and in all areas of public life. It is easy to find ourselves feeling intolerant of these people, wishing we could be free of them even though we know that separation from them is an illusion.

It helps sometimes to think of us all as different parts of one psyche. Just as within our own hearts and minds we have dark places that need healing, the heart and mind of the world has its dark places. The health of the whole organism depends upon the relative health of the individuals within it. We increase harmony when we hold onto the light, not allowing it to be darkened by judgment, anger, and fear about those who behave unconsciously. It’s easier to accomplish this if we don’t focus on the negative qualities of individuals and instead focus on how increasing our own light will increase the light of the overall picture.

When dealing with people who seem very unconscious, it helps to remember that every one must find their own way to awakening and that the experiences they are having are an essential part of their process. Holding them in the light of our own energy may be the best way to awaken theirs. At the same time, we are inspired by their example to look within and shed light on our own unconscious places, sacrificing the urge to judge and surrendering instead to humble self-inquiry.

DailyOM

From Beliefnet By: Stacey Granger, Chicken Soup for the Soul There was a day a few months ago when some city workers came into our subdivision to repair the street. It was a warm day and my children had been outside playing all morning. As I was making beds, picking up toys, sorting dirty laundry and doing my other “mom” chores, I listened to the grind and scrape of the diesel machines working in front of my home.

Nearing lunchtime, I went to call my six children in. They weren’t in the backyard playing on all the gym equipment we had purchased for their entertainment. They weren’t in the side yard playing kickball or soccer. They were in the front yard with awed expressions on their faces watching the machines on the street dig and dump and fill.

I watched them for awhile - my grubby little throng - amazed they could stand so still for longer than a minute, but unlike them, I soon became bored and called them in. I could see they were reluctant to come inside.

“We was watching the tractors!” my three-year-old exclaimed, pointing as if I hadn’t seen the enormous machines.

“Why?” I asked.

They all traded glances and shrugged their shoulders, and my nine-year-old answered for them all, “Because they’re neat.”

Later I thought about how enthralled they were with those big machines, as so many children are, and I myself had been when I was young. It made me sad to think that I have become so busy trying to keep up with everyday life that I’ve forgotten how to enjoy the everyday things. That while we as adults are so busy chasing the almighty dollar, we’ve forgotten that the simple pleasures we enjoyed as children are free, right in our own backyards, there for the taking.

One lazy afternoon while watching my children play, I started thinking about how differently the world looks through the eyes of an adult with so many responsibilities. All at once I realized that while I was trying to raise them to be perfect mini-adults who would then become perfect full-grown adults, my oldest child at eleven was essentially still that - a child! I felt my stomach drop as I recalled reprimanding them over and over about this and that and giving lectures on appropriate behavior. I cringed inwardly as I realized with clarity that I’ve essentially been telling them that it’s wrong to behave as the children they are.

My five-year-old chose that moment to look over and give me a wave. She yelled, “Mom, watch!” and jumped off the swing seat in mid-swing and flew through the air. I held my breath until she landed in the sandbox without a major injury.

My first response was to let loose a barrage of admonishments about how she could have broken a leg or landed on one of her younger sisters, but just as I started to yell, I shocked myself by responding with, “Wow!” And I gave her a thumbs-up.

Suddenly I felt a pang of longing for the days of my own youth. The days when I, too, could romp and play without a care for cost-of-living increases and budgets and mortgages. The days when all that seemed to matter was that day, that moment.

Remembering the day with the machines working in the street, I walked across the yard to my children and asked if I, too, could join in the fun. For a moment, six pairs of eyes just stared at me in astonishment. Even though I spend all day - every day - with them, it had been a long time since I’d taken off my “Mom” hat and just enjoyed the day - the moment - as if it would last forever.

I let my children re-teach me that afternoon, for I’d forgotten that a whole world of fun could exist in a child’s backyard. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to squish and squeeze fresh mud into patties and lay them on rocks to dry in the sun. Or how plucking the stem from a honeysuckle will reward you with a single sweet drop of “honey.” Or how forbidden it feels to make a mud puddle with the garden hose and stomp in it just for the sheer fun of getting dirty. And how thrilling it is to climb just one branch higher in a tree and then from your perch in the sky, gaze over your tiny kingdom through innocent eyes and yell, “I’m the king of the world!”

I’d forgotten how your stomach does that flip-flop tickle when you swing so high that the seat practically falls out of the sky and at the last moment catches, pulling you back to do it again. Or how relaxing it is to lie on your back in the grass watching the dandelion fluff float by on a lazy summer breeze. Or how, when you use your imagination, the clouds can really look like bunnies and horses. And I’d forgotten what it was like to be dirty and sweaty and itchy and not even care, because there was still an hour to play before dinner.

There was once a time when a day seemed to last forever and yet now I feel there aren’t enough hours in a day to do all that needs to be done. I now know that the days slip by all too quickly and so does a child’s youth. Once it is gone, it can never be reclaimed no matter how badly we wish for it.

As for myself, I can only hope to capture a few stolen moments from my children’s youth to remind me how precious these carefree days are for them. And I try not to question why they will go through the trouble to rake all the leaves in the yard into a big pile just to run and jump and stomp and kick them all over the yard again. Instead, I go outside and join them. Enjoy the moment with them. Because even though they don’t, I know the moment won’t last forever.