Compassion and the Law of Attraction

Abraham, the Spiritual Entity channeled by Esther Hicks, whose teachings are the subject of the Law of Attraction books by Esther and Jerry Hicks, claims that we should detach from other people and their problems, that it’s okay to be selfish, and that we aren’t here to fix the world but to live abundantly, Houston we have a problem!  I’m a firm believer in the Law of Attraction but have to disagree with Abraham on that one.

I agree that sometimes we spend too much time focusing on other people’s problems, that we get wrapped up in them, and that it hinders our own growth, but by the same token, I believe that in good measure, helping others helps us.  I could never, in good conscience, ignore the needs of others, it’s just not in my humanity.

I have known people, as a matter of fact, I still know some, who selfishly focus on themselves and disregard the needs of others, the need for justice, and the need for equality, and let me tell you that from my experience, these are not happy people.  They are bitter and angry and attract similar people, things, and experiences to themselves.

Compassion is a vital part of the human experience, Abraham misses the mark on that one.  It is said, and I believe it thoroughly that the more you give, the more you receive, and it doesn’t matter what form the giving takes, this is a bonus of giving and shouldn’t be the incentive.  Giving, whether it be time, energy, wisdom, money, or love, is a spiritual practice that I intend to practice alongside the Law of Attraction, as I always have.

I haven’t really applied myself to the Law of Attraction in years, but I am ready to embark on its wonderful journey, and I will do it while maintaining my compassion and caring.  Sorry, Abraham, I have a need to prove you wrong!

Love you all,

Luc

Life Lessons from a Detox Centre

I’m a Program Worker at a Detox Centre, and I tend to see people at their worst, full of denial, and with a hate on for authority.  That’s okay, that’s just where they’re at now, I look for potential in all of them because, as a recovering alcoholic, I’ve been in their shoes before and I know that this period need not, and does not, define their lives.

Each resident we serve has their own story, their own reasons why they drink or use drugs, and each has a motivation, sometimes hidden, to be clean and sober.  Sometimes, unfortunately, their addiction is stronger than their motivation to change, and we lose them, either because they choose to leave, or because we have to send them home.  These aren’t bad people even though they may have done bad things, they are sick, they have a disease that tells them they don’t have it.

For me, the hardest part of this job is not dealing with their behaviours, but with the emotional impact of listening to their stories.  It’s hard not to get highly emotional when you listen to a young woman speak of the sexual abuses she endured from age four until she was old enough to leave home, or the young man’s story of how his old man beat him savagely for playing a little too loudly.  Our Detox Centre is filled with residents with similar stories who sought an escape from the pain by using alcohol or drugs.  As hard as their stories are to listen too, I am happy to sit and listen because I know that sharing those stories is a critical step in the process of recovery, and it helps me to remember that I am dealing with emotionally scarred people, not monsters who lie, cheat and steal.

I learn as much from them as much as I hope they learn from me.  Working in this field has helped me to become a better human, it has taught me powerful lessons about tolerance and acceptance, and it has strengthened my belief in the dignity and worth of all people.  As a result, I try to treat each person I meet, not only the residents I serve, the same way that I would like to be treated, and I reach out my hand whenever anyone needs help, without prejudice, without judgment.  I am absolutely grateful for my job, and for all the addicts and alcoholics whose courage, strength, and hope have inspired me and helped me to become the person that I am.

Love you all!

Luc

No More Fear of Rejection

It occurred to me this morning that when it comes to writing, I’m a coward.  I’ve never experienced the pain of receiving a rejection letter, not because my stories are that good, but because I’ve never bothered to submit my stories to any source where rejection is possible.  Oh sure, I entered a story in the CBC Short Story Prize competition last year, the only competition I entered, but with thousands of entries pouring in, I entered not expecting to win, so there was no disappointment when I didn’t. 

I’ve become an expert at avoiding disappointment, going so far as to self-publishing two books, a collection of flash fiction and a collection of short stories, knowing that I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to market them, but at least they weren’t rejected, and I saved face by accepting that every book I sold was a victory.  I broke even, and that was a plus, but the stories in both books deserved better than that, they deserved to be submitted, criticized, and yes, even rejected a few times in order to gain credibility.  I didn’t have the courage to do it.

It’s CBC Short Story Prize time again, and I’ve been writing up a storm, hoping upon hope to write a story that I could believe was good enough to win, I did it, but now the fear has set in and I almost decided against entering it because of possible rejection.  It needs editing and revising, and I’m working on that now, but make no mistake about it, I will enter it, and I will wait with eager anticipation until next April, when the short list is announced and the winner is announced, and I will be crushed if it doesn’t place but that’s okay, I will survive it.  One way or the other, I will start to pay my dues towards becoming a serious writer.

Life is about change, and I am resolved to change.  I won’t sit idly by, waiting for a fruitful outcome, I will write up a storm, I will submit to markets and competitions, and I will collect those rejection slips, and those successes as they come, in short, I will take the risk and become a real writer.  Challenge accepted!

Love you all!

Luc

A Cup Of Courage and a Gallon of Gratitude

I’m usually up early, by three most mornings, and after I post my Facebook greetings, I usually settle down at my dining room table, laptop in front of me, a cup of coffee to my right, and I write.  I start with a little writing practice, ten minutes of free writing, sometimes I do a second round in order to wake-up my mind, and then the hard part begins, trying to write something tangible, something worthy of publishing.  It’s a noble goal but one that I don’t accomplish every day.  On a good day I manage to begin a few stories, or add to my works in progress, on a bad day, I struggle to begin even one story.

My writing time is at a premium, I work full-time, twelve-hour shifts, and I rely on my early morning or afternoon writing time to produce.  My inner critic follows my schedule and tends to intrude on my writing time, urging me to change a sentence, question my use of punctuation, and sometimes demanding that I start again from the beginning, writing is hard work when you have a critical inner editor who’s a boisterous loud mouth, but I persist.  I tackle my inner writing critic the same way I tackle any other problem or situation I face in my life, with a cup of courage and a gallon of gratitude, this recipe tends to serve me well.

Now, courage is not about scaling high mountains or skydiving out of an airplane, it’s about facing fears and problems head on and persisting despite them, it’s about reminding yourself that you will either succeed or learn a valuable lesson.  A cup of courage is all that is usually needed to silence the inner critic, or at least to muffle its voice long enough so that you can carry on.   Sure, things may not go as well as you planned, but they won’t go as bad as you thought either.

Gratitude is the fuel for your courage, the more grateful you are, the more courage you will have.  Be grateful for your life and for every success you have enjoyed.  Be grateful for your gifts and talents, and for the opportunity to face this challenge head on.  Be grateful for this perfect day, for the will to persist, for the willingness to fail, and for the valuable lessons you have learned by trying.  The more gratitude you can muster up, the easier it will be for you to face the current challenge.  Be forewarned that a gallon of gratitude will carry you beyond your current problem and have a positive impact on the rest of your life.

Fill your heart with gratitude, and courage will come.  I haven’t encountered a problem yet which a cup of courage and a gallon of gratitude hasn’t helped me resolve.  Not convinced?  Try it!

Love you all!

Luc

Tipping the Hatred Bandwagon

I made a decision a few years ago that I would eliminate negativity, anger, and hatred from my life, and it’s worked until now, but the world has changed, and anger and hatred now permeate all facets of society.  Friends who have up until now been mostly positive have shifted towards the hatred bandwagon, and I find myself caught in the crossfire.

As a writer, I am a strong proponent of freedom of speech and expression but such freedoms were never meant to be extended to those who propose violence and persecution towards any class of people.  I’ve witnessed people on both sides of the hate debate violate the intent of freedom of speech and expression, and it saddens me that violence has become an acceptable norm on both sides.

I find myself angered by the racial slurs, high level of intolerance, and violent tendencies of the far right, and I know that I must speak out in favor of unity, acceptance, and peace, but I must ensure that when I do, I do so in a way that is congruent with my beliefs.  I must resist all urges to attack those who believe differently than I do, and respond with truth and in the spirit of civility.

I’m not a pacifist, I will fight the war against oppression, but I will not raise my arm against a man’s word, only against his actions.  If I could, I would attend all counter rallies against hatred, and my shouts would echo along with others because what is under attack is our way of life, not freedom of speech or expression.

History, they say is doomed to repeat itself, and I’m afraid we are repeating it now. These are scary times we live in, war is imminent, and fascism is in again.  It’s only just begun, let’s kick its ass before it gains momentum.  And while we’re at it, why not throw in a prayer or two to whatever God, Deity, or Higher Power we believe in, the collective conscience of all has been known to be fruitful.

Hats off to all my relations, we are all relations, who stand up for the collective rights of all people.  I walk with you in your struggle.

Love you all!

Luc

Where the Ghosts Aren’t

I’m strange, I know, but all writers are, aren’t they?  I’m also both envious and desperate, and by now my predicament is sad, sad, sad.  I am staying in a haunted Hotel, the Fort Garry Hotel in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and I was hoping to be able to write about ghostly apparitions and strange occurrences, but the haunting gods have been less than kind to me.  My experiences so far have been peaceful and relaxing while others at the Conference report ghostly happenings.  What’s the matter with these ghosts, why are they discriminating against me?

One of my travelling companions, and several others I might add, have felt a presence climb into bed with them, another saw a white gown hovering around her room, and a friend says his computer turned on in the middle of the night, and they aren’t even staying on the supposedly haunted floor, I am.  There have been recent reports of ghosts in the bathroom, strange knocking in a few rooms, and even a sighting of the ghost who roams the halls, for me, nothing.

I have two nights left in this hotel, and it looks like I’m cursed to spend the next few nights sleeping comfortably in what is probably the only non-haunted room in this hotel, and as a writer in search of adventures to write about, this is totally unacceptable.  I guess I will have to steal other people’s experiences if I want to write about ghosts. 

Seriously, though, the hotel itself is worth the experience, with or without ghosts.  It is old, built in 1913, has a classy feel about it, and I am enjoying my stay here.  I may be disappointed with the ghost situation, but I’ll get over it, and who knows, I may be back again someday to try my luck again.

Love you all!

Luc

Go Ahead and Haunt Me

My life has been a series of adventures with some misadventures thrown in for balance. I’ve been kidnapped, held hostage, chased by a woman with a knife, and accosted by a pervert on the bus.  I’ve lived through death, a car accident, a flood, I have a knack for attracting strangely curious people, and if there’s an adventure around waiting to happen, you can bet that I will attract it.  Most of these incidents end peacefully, and all of them are fodder for future blog posts, or stories, or both.

I usually don’t get advance notice to prepare for these adventures, that’s why my upcoming adventure is so exciting, I can look forward to it.  Tomorrow I start my journey towards Winnipeg, Manitoba, and believe it or not, I am spending a week in a haunted hotel, how thrilling is that.

One block away from its Union Station, the Fort Garry Hotel was built in 1913 by the Grand Funk Pacific Railway and has stately charm but that’s not all it’s got, you guessed it, it has ghosts.  A tragic story indeed, and the ghost of the wife is said to not only haunt room 202 but also to roam the halls in a hooded gown.  There are also accounts of staff seeing blood drip down the walls when entering the notorious room, and of a male apparition at the foot of the bed, and in the dining room.

As the story goes, a young couple checked in to the Fort Garry but never checked out, the husband died in a car accident, or coach accident, depending on which version you read, and the wife, being completely devastated by the death of her husband, hung herself in the closet of room 202.

Folklore? Maybe, but I’m looking forward to finding out for myself, and you can bet there will be a blog post if I encounter either of the ghosts that supposedly haunt the majestic hotel.  I would even welcome a stay in room 202, given the chance, yes, I’m strange like that.  Winnipeg, here I come!

Love you all!

Luc