Overcoming the Blahs

Ever come down with a serious case of Monday morning? Yeah. Me too. In fact, my mojo is waning today. No worries though. Here is a quick, delightful and very effective way to rise above the blahs. To activate the cure, simply pay it forward.

Yep. Just call, text, email or write a note to someone you love. Take a moment, to tell them why you love them. Encourage them on their journey. You can go to the store and smile at people.

Think “I love you. You are beautiful.” Let it flow from your heart to theirs. Imagine a ball of white light enveloping them.
Pay for someone else’s coffee or do some other small act of kindness. Just do something to be the cheering section for someone else.

You will not only bless them, you will feel your spirits soar too. You see, my dear brothers and sisters, we are all connected in this journey.

There is something, vast, deep and strong that runs like a current of unseen power beneath our lives. Blessing others by showing love and care, is the fastest route to resonating with the Divine Source and plugging into the flow.

Try it and see for yourself. I double dog dare you. Soon you will find yourself thrumming with all of your being, dancing in sync with life.
Blessings and peace to every creature in time and space.
With love, Victoria Cayce

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I awoke one day…

I awoke one day. Not exactly certain when or how it happened, but it did. There I was, a timeless being, encased in a temporary form. I marveled at it all and I still do. What does this mean? It means, my sweet friend, that you and I are free.

We are free to love, to dance, to weep to destroy or to create with unending joy. You have the power to start over again every moment. You have the choice to view it in any way that makes sense to you- to attach to it any meaning that you select and to respond in a thousand different ways.

You can choose hate. You can choose sorrow. You can choose to rise above or to challenge. It is always and ever your choice that matters.

How you play the game is entirely up to you. You can change course at any time. You can be the butterfly, the caterpillar, or just the cocoon. There are no rules. That is my take on it.

Yes. Somewhere between the breathless blue sky and the rolling green earth, there is a reason for all of this. And I will let you in on a little secret; I suspect, my dear, that the reason is love.

 

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How the Most Painful Moment of My Life Saved Me

I was in fourth grade, and I was terrified. It was coming up on Christmas and everyone was supposed to exchange gifts. My family was poor. Dirt poor. And worse yet, we kids were pretty neglected and often hungry.

How bad was it? Well, I was wearing hand-me-down clothes. Not from a big sister or a cousin though. I had to wear my brother’s clothes. Suffice to say that I got bullied a lot. A skinny kid with tangled hair, always hanging out at the edge, wishing I knew how to fit in.

To me, this was it. My chance to show that I was cool. Maybe giving a good gift would earn me a friend. But how was I going to get a gift to give? I was a bundle of nerves when I asked my mom about it.

She sighed and said that she would try to get me something. Mom was really a very kind soul, living with our father, a two-timing, ego driven mass of anger who walked around looking for a reason to explode.

Mom came through for me though. She probably saved for weeks to get something for me. No kidding about that. There were times when all we had to eat was bread with a little sugar on it -so this was a big deal.

However she did it, she found it. The perfect gift. It was a yellow mirror, formed into the shape of a flower. I loved it. I did not ever get to have girly things and this was just so bright and pretty.

We carefully wrapped it in rather banged up and well worn wrapping paper. I huddled with it on the bus, carrying it close to my chest all the way to school- worried that I might drop it.

I didn’t. I carried it proudly into class and sat it on the teacher’s desk. She was going to give them all out at break. Each gift was chosen randomly so that everyone got one and no one knew who gave what.

It was hard to sit there. I fidgeted all morning. The minutes drug by until, at last, Mrs. Evans held up her hand for silence. The room fell quiet and she smiled as she handed out the gifts. I watched to see who would get my gift.

And guess what. It went to the most popular girl in class, Mary. Mary  was so pretty. I wanted to be just like her. Her hair always looked nice and she smelled good too. I got a gift too, but barely noticed it as I was holding my breath to see how much she loved my special mirror.

Mary tore the package open greedily and the smile instantly slid off of her face. “Mrs. Evans”, she whined, ” I got something ugly.” She emphasized the word “ugly” so it sounded like ugh-huh-lee. I tried to hide in my desk.

The class laughed. Mrs. Evans told her that she should be gracious, but she kept on complaining. She rolled her eyes and said that only a poor person would ruin it by giving something so hideous. ( I was not sure what hideous meant, but it did not sound nice.)

My eyes flooded with hot tears. Everyone looked around to see who would dare bring something so terrible to class. The other kids snickered and looked at me. Mrs. Evans called the class to order and the day resumed. It was all a blur for me though.

So much so that when went to lunch and I realized I had forgotten to open my present. Sitting by myself, I unwrapped it and saw something I really wanted. It was a watch with a delicate pink band. It was a girl’s watch! For a moment I forgot to be miserable.

We went back to class and I felt better. Just before the end of the day though, Mrs. Evans was called out of the room. She asked that we sit quietly until she returned. While she was gone, it happened. Mary started making fun of me.

Flouncing over to my desk, she held the ‘ugly mirror’ and started pantomiming that she was putting on makeup. She said that only a really ugly person would need a mirror like that. The class burst into giggles and fits of laughter.

Then she demanded to know what I had gotten. I could not speak, but showed her the watch, holding out my arm. Amanda spoke up and said that her mom had bought the watch and she wanted it to go to Mary.

She also suggested that Mary give me back my mirror. I handed over the watch and Mary left the mirror on my desk. At some point, Mary must have given it a pretty good smack because it now had a crack down the center.

Mrs. Evans returned and the day resumed. I did not hear the lesson though, as I was lost in a fog of shame. I threw the mirror into a ditch when I got off the bus.

At this point, you may be wondering how this saved me. Well, I will tell you. When I was in bed that night, my mom came into the room and asked me how my day went. I lied. I told her that everyone loved my gift. She was pleased. her careworn face creased in a smile and she said something, something quite profound that has never left me.

She said, “That’s wonderful honey. Everybody needs to feel good about something. Maybe you made a friend” That was it. For some reason, when she said it, the word “made” stood out.

Could you ‘make’ a friend? Maybe you could. Maybe if somebody was scared, or lonely or even ugly like me, I could ‘make’ a friend. A light-bulb went off inside of me. Laying there, in the darkness, I thought about how Mary made me feel.

I thought about how I could, someday, ‘make’ somebody else feel good too. It made me a bit warmer. Even though it hurt, I promised myself that I would never be like Mary. I wanted to be different. I would “make” friends because I would be able to see how they felt inside.

It may sound crazy, but in my mind, it clicked -like tumblers in a lock- suddenly falling into place. Opening the locked vault of human kindness inside of me.

Now, years later, I can look back and see that Mary did me a favor. She did not do it on purpose, yet she taught me a valuable lesson. What was it?

She taught me how not to be. She taught me that people have power and that the names we assign have meaning. She taught me that people have value even when they are not pretty or popular.

She taught me the value of kindness and compassion. In other words, she became the mirror, and so did I.

We, all of us, are mirrors. We reflect out that which is already inside of us.

PS. True story. Now go and reflect something beautiful.

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Be the Hero of YOUR Story

Something sweet and profound happened for me yesterday. It may seem small to everyone else, but to me, it signaled coming full circle to a place of healing, wholeness and meaning.

You see, about five years ago I fled ( literally) a controlling, co-dependent, hurtful relationship that had dominated almost every waking moment of my life for 23 (long!) years. No finger pointing here. He was hurting too. We just dealt with it in different ways. None of them good.

When I left, I was so afraid and felt utterly alone. My wonderful cousin took me in and helped me begin to heal. Other friends, too many to list, gave me hope and help along the way too.

But I digress, when I left, I had no way to make a living and I was terrified.
And, while I wanted to be a writer, I had no experience, no clue as to how or where to even begin to start. I struggled with being dyslexic, dealing with systemic Lupus and severe panic attacks. ( All of which is still true.)

So here is the big moment: yesterday, my son asked me to help him write something. He said, ” Mom, can you help with this email, because, after all, you are a writer.” And then it hit me. He was right. My dream came true. I am a writer.

For three years now I have been making a living as a writer. It has been tough. I have failed just as often as I have succeeded. I am not brilliant, not overly strong and not the best writer on the planet. (Probably not the best one in a thirty mile radius if I am honest.)

There were so many times when I felt stupid, useless, ugly, afraid, alone, yada, yada, yada.

My point in sharing this is that if I can reach this milestone, you can reach yours too. You do not have to give up or forget your dreams. You may fall down. A lot. Just keep getting up. You do not have to be the brightest bulb out there. You do not have to be super human. You just have to keep moving forward at whatever speed you can muster.

You may struggle. At the moment, least you think that I am rolling in money, I think I have a whopping twenty dollars in my bank account. In every sense of the word though, I am rich beyond measure. My message to you is this: love, dream and live my friends. The journey IS the prize.

Now, go and be the hero in your own story.

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You Have the Power

Life, at times, is like a shadowed midnight journey through a strange land. On one hand there is so much pain, too much suffering, too many tears. Some have acted with enough malice to make the stones cry. Others have given their last heartbeat to save a stranger.

Between the highs and lows there are moments of clarity where truth herself seems to take a breathless pause, shining like a distant star, out of the cold night and into our very souls.

While we cannot measure the oceans, or count the distance between a thousand worlds, we do hold one sacred, eternal gift that is ours, and only ours to give. We can love. Love is the only note that will hang in eternity after all the songs have been sung.

We cannot change the past. we cannot know the future. Sometimes  we cannot even always fill the minutes with the full distance run. Empires may rise and others will fall. Kingdoms, like chess-games, come and go. Yet even as worlds collide, things spin beyond our ken, love is still ours to give.

It is always our choice. One that we make over and over, moment to moment as we move through the light and shadows.

Love. Simple love. That alone is the treasure that lies within each heart: the power to look past differences, to help instead of harm. To accept, to comfort and to bless. To forgive and hold out compassion even in the face of evil.

People can break your heart, but they can never conquer you if you refuse to hate. They can take away all that you have, but never who you are.

Love is ever our sacred task. It is indeed, the only one we have. And endless debt that we pay forward in each moment.

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Your Ruby Slippers

I got some news today that made my belly hurt.

It does not matter what it is, only that it was enough to evoke the terrible fear monster inside of me.

Once again, the beast of failures past groped its way up from the basement of my mind.

All of the old mantras began to sound off like ominous bells of doom. “You are not good enough.”

“You are not smart enough, powerful enough, fill-in-the blank enough,” the voices in my head cried.

Then it hit me. I asked for this.

Wait.

What? I asked to be kicked in the shins, pushed down in the playground and have my spiritual lunch money taken?

I wanted an emotional wedgie?!

Yeppers.

You see, I have this nasty habit of asking to grow, to learn to explore and to become more than I am.

You may have done that too.

If so, don’t be surprised if the universe answers by sending a few curve balls your way. Road blocks are kind of the pop quizzes of spiritual development. (Dang it!)

When we get bowled over, it is life’s way of letting us actually live what we all say we believe.

It is oh so easy to smile, look wiser than we are and be happy when the road is easy and the sun is shining. But add a few clouds, a crooked cold wind that cuts you to the bone, or a dark night of the soul and it is easy to lose your way.

When you skin your metaphysical knees it gets real in a hurry.

Just remember: those days are true gifts.

You read that right. They may not be packaged with fun colors, goodness and puppy kisses, but ribbons aside, they are a gift nonetheless.

They are the mile markers that change your trajectory, shake up your convictions and demand more of you. Besides all of which, every hard day is a chance to be brave, to face our fears, swallow hard and move forward in the darkness.

Yes.

Life can be scary. You may not think so, but you really do have the power to do incredible things.

Half the battle is knowing that this, all of it, is a test. Give thanks for the gloomy days, the difficult moments and know that you are a rock star.

Even if you do not feel it, believe that like Dorothy, you already have the ruby slippers you need to get you safely home.

Some day, you may well see see that the worst times made you the best person.

 

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Playing Hide and Seek

It really hit home today.

And, just as most of our most important discoveries, it bubbled up right smack in the middle of a mundane, ordinary day.

I was just running errands, mindlessly musing, wandering around in one of those big, impersonal stores.

I passed an elderly woman, counting out change at glacial speed to a patient cashier. Next came a scruffy college student, sporting colorful tattoos and ripped jeans.

Then I spotted at a harried looking mom dealing with a crying toddler and it hit me- right there.

In aisle 3.

We are playing a game of Hide and seek. All of us. from this perspective it looks as if we are all strangers just going about our individual lives, but nothing could be further from the truth.

We are all in one big cosmic costume ball. We are eternal companions who have chosen to walk through this reality incognito.

Once it it over, when we are back home, we will all have a good laugh, remembering how much we love one another.

That’s right. The guy who mows your lawn. The woman who forgets to curb her dog. The tired waitress and the CEO are all in on it. Even the jerk that cut you off in traffic is a boon companion that you adore.

Even members of Congress. Everyone of them is a friend of yours from way, way back.

We have just laid aside our memories, our understanding of what is really ‘real’ so that we can play the game fully. In the end, when we are really home, there are no skinned knees.

No pain. No hate. No blame.

Everyone is somebody that we already love. Something to think about the next time you pass a grubby homeless guy with a Styrofoam cup.

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