On March 21st it was Navros – the beginning of a new year in the Islamic faith and calendar.   I should be feeling alive, renewed, rejoiced and ready to take on the world and yet this evening as I walk the streets of my vibrant city, I feel a pulsing dark heaviness has creeped over me like the black shadow of an eagle looming over its unsuspecting prey.

I walk by a young pan handler on the cold March streets & there is no judgement from me – just a simple state of the usual ?numbness and nothing?.  As I trundle past him, so self absorbed in my overflowing pool of pity, I realize the shining gold coin I found on the floor when I disembarked the bus this afternoon was meant for him.  As I hand it to him, his smile fills his face from cheek to cheek pushing aside his grief and worry, if even for a brief moment.   I realize that him and I are not so different after all.  

For an instant I feel a moment of light try to touch my blackened state but it is not strong enough to make even the smallest of dents on the thick wall of anxiety and misery I have decided to adorn as if it were a heavy fur coat weighing me down with its lack of style.

Why do I feel like this?  Well – why don?t I.  

One of my inherent talents and traits (as discovered in my CliftonStrengthFinder assessment) is that I?m a naturally strategic person – which means I have the ability to see multiple routes to any given destination or goal.  Now this is an amazing trait, but sometimes (actually let?s not lie here), ok… most times, when I think about all the possible routes I get excited for a short while and then as they get closer, I start freaking out.  You see -those routes to some conjured up paradise start crumbling away, as if I were in a remixed version of Raiders of the Lost Arc and as I head for the treasure, everything starts to fall apart. Hey!

As the routes to my Zion literally start to vaporize and melt away, I feel as if I?m stuck.  I begin to feel as if any progress I?ve made is reversed and a thousand inner voices fight to scream and pull me down to the foggy hallows to show the core of me that nothing I do will ever measure – I feel like I have eaten from the same cakes that Alice did in her Wonderland and I begin to shrink.

I try and divert my thoughts into some other scheme or some new fresh idea – something that will allow my creativity to sore – something that will keep me away and distant from the inevitable and impeding doom of having to try and get people as my clients.  Just the mention of it terrifies me – GET COACHING CLIENTS – or be rejected – GET COACHING CLIENTS – or be proven that I am worthless and that I have nothing of value to offer the world.  Even as I type those three despicable words, the energy that jumps from the page is ghastly. They reek with desperation for approval from outside of myself – a lesson doomed to remind me for the kazillionth time that this approval can only come from myself.

Why is it that I?m so incredibly chastised? Why do I whip myself over and over again with chains that cripple me as they turn any glimmer of hope and love into a bloody pulp of fear.  When will I allow myself to escape the throngs of the many mistakes I have made and the many hearts I have broken?   Why can?t I remember that I am the light of God and therefore love in itself.  When will I see that what I wish to offer the world in whatever form is service enough and that whatever I CHOOSE to have as my own experience – I Can and I will.

Even as I write these words my eyes are filled with tears because I am so tired of the inescapable prison I have so diligently created for myself.   A prison so complex and outfitted with a time locked maze set so that every time I approach the light of a possible exit with a bright future, a Mad Mechanism kicks in and whirs me back into the throngs of a confusion and fear so thick that is feels as if to suffocate me is it?s only goal.   

As I pray and ask for guidance, I am quickly reminded to Think Like God Thinks.  I am asked to be in my fear and to let it pass.  To breathe and realize that the thoughts are just thoughts and the illusions are just illusions.   I am asked to come back to the present moment and simply allow myself to be shown the way and to enjoy simply Being Me – for anything else would be to Edge God Out

As I finish writing this to you, I am reminded of my connection to source and a God Presence.  I am shown that the simple act of stopping for a moment to convey my feelings and wade through them was enough to create ripples of light that will radiate through me and from me. In some strange way I suddenly feel a sense of relief.  As I put on my coat and get ready to continue my journey home, I realize that I feel lighter, happier and somehow not so alone and in despair.  I am thankful.

(This was where I was to end the piece of writing) – AND THEN THIS HAPPENS!

SideNote:.   As I?m walking to the bus a young gentleman and his friends look at me and then the strangest thing happens.  They offer me the gift of a luxury box of chocolates from my favourite chocolatier adorned in a red box (to symbolize heart) and gold ribbon (to symbolize abundance).

This sweetness of this gift quite literally reminds me that when we take the time to stop and Think Like God Thinks, then in matter of minutes – thoughts become things.  On the way home, I stop at a local restaurant and share my bounty with a few patrons and the staff who all beam with joy from such simplicity.

As the remainder of any grief melts off my heart like molasses, the thought occurs to me that there is never any coincidences.   

Perhaps it?s a good start to the New year after all.