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Archive for the ‘Power of Words’ Category

Lesson 9

Giving and receiving are one and must occur together. I can only receive what I give. This is true in all situations and relationships in my life.

Since I want to receive peace and love throughout this day, I will say silently or directly to everyone I meet: I offer you peace and love, and accept love and peace for myself.  

 

 

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If I want peace, I will be concerned only about giving. If I want conflict, I will be concerned with trying to get something or evaluating why I am not getting it.

Ask yourself the following question about every communication: Is this communication loving to the other person and to myself? (Do this daily.)

 

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One day when I was five, I was at the hospital for my routine blood work and noticed a large wicker basket full of shiny red apples on the counter at the reception desk. I wanted one of those apples, so I stood on my tip toes and tried to reach, but due to my height, was unable. From the other side of the counter, a woman’s brown hand, gave me an apple. “Here you go,” she said in a soft voice. It was Mrs. James, she was from Jamaica. She added, “You know, we never saw a kid with such a strong will to live.” I nodded in agreement, even though I wasn’t sure what those words meant. I took the apple and went to my seat.
In the deepest recesses of my memory, I remember that some of the nurses had told me that they too had never seen a kid with such a strong will to live. Years later, I often wondered if those words caused me to struggle through situations and events that no ordinary human was meant to endure. Unbeknownst to me at that time, those words, we never saw a kid with such a strong will to live, would end up being my silent mantra throughout my life. They had a safe refuge and burrowed deep in my subconscious memory and became the main motivation for how I lived my life.
This was a sharp contrast to the vile words of my abusive alcoholic father, who repeatedly criticized me and proclaimed, “You’re just a stupid fucking bitch who’s never going to amount to anything.”
As the years progressed, so did the words … they became more vile.
You stupid fucking bitch, YOU ARE never going to amount to anything. How many times would I hear those words in my head, ten thousand, one hundred thousand, a million perhaps, as a constant reminder that I was worthless and unlovable and IT was all my fault. I came to believe that if I wasn’t sick my mom would not have left, leaving my dad with three kids to raise on his own. Of course I believed him and identified heavily with those words.

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