Book Review: The Law of Attraction: The Basics of the Teachings of Abraham

Over the past week, mostly since the cluster of cataclymic events which have shaken up my relatively calm and peaceful world, I've been reading a book that has proven to be incredibly profound.

I have been taking my time wandering through its pages, pondering after over a phrase or a paragraph and painting large swaths of yellow with my trusty highlighter to mark the passages that most appeal to me. The book is entitled "The Law of Attraction, The Basics of the Teachings of Abraham," by Esther and Jerry Hicks. It's perhaps a little "out there" for those who come from more traditional religious ideologies. But if you're willing to have an open mind to the sources or channels through which messages can be revealed (as I am), then you will find the wisdom packed into the pages of this book to be invaluable.

The core message of the book is that each of us is responsible for shaping and creating the experiences that make up the fabric of our lives -- the very thoughts that we think are the seeds from which our experiences are born. We are like magnets, bringing into our life experiences the things that occupy our thoughts. We can attract abundance, success, good relationships, money; or we can attract loss, failure, loneliness, and poverty. It is all within us.

I find this message so empowering, and precisely in tune with my own personal philosophy on life, fate, destiny. I can accept that there is a mental and thus spiritual creation of all things before they are physically manifested. I suppose this mentality falls hard on those who choose to see themselves as victims of circumstance. But for those of us willing to take accountability for the direction of our lives, willing to see the connection between not just those things that we do, but the things that come to us, this book is pure inspiration.

If you are interested in learning more about this book, you can visit the following link.

Simplicity Speaks: The Answer Is Within

Attempting to avoid impropriety and also keep a positive spin on the experiences I am having here, I will refrain from going into detail about the recent upset that I experienced at work. Suffice to say that between Monday's staff meeting, yesterday's afternoon's self-proclaimed "emergency" discussion with Harrison (a.k.a. Repairing Business Relationships 101), and gratefully, today's apparent resolution, there has been drama on the employment front.
I knew that sooner or later, it was to be expected that there would be a disagreement or conflict of some sort between my boss and I. I just didn't realize that it would be quite on this scale. I also didn't expect that he'd fight so dirty. But it was what it was, I lost a fair amount of sleep over it the last two nights. During this little crisis, if I may call it that, I worked hard to hold onto my belief that the best course of action would be to maintain a positive mind, and to believe in a swift resolution. I coached myself in trusting in my own gut-level feelings and intuition to steer me toward the best possible outcome and as little collateral damage as possible.
And I worked at the sentiment of blame that seemed to be lying obtrusively just below the surface that somehow, from a perspective other than my own, this whole issue of disagreement was brought on by selfishness, shortsightedness, and inflexibility on my part. I didn't believe those things to be true, but beyond any criticisms or accusations pointed at me, I knew that I needed to find a way to bridge the gap of offense and misunderstanding that had tarnished what had been a mutually fulfilling working relationship and friendship. That was the hardest to bear: that this person whom I had spent several months building bridges with, had suddenly turned into someone that I didn't recognize. Small, close-knit EGA (my academy) had become my "family" in the weeks since my arrival here, and the thought that now my relationship with the key person linked to my livelihood here was strained and tense was something I just couldn't stomach.
So, what did I do? I used this experience as a springboard for my explorating and ashamedly spotty study of meditation. I came to Korea with many goals in mind, one of which was to begin a solid practice of meditation. I have yet to show any real consistency with my practice, but I am learning to use it as a tool to help me transcend the noise of daily life and experience the stillness of what is. And that's the point, after all.
What follows is an intimate look into my innermost thoughts as they surfaced during this most recent meditative session. I wrote this journal entry separately, intending it to be for my eyes only, but as I think about the purpose of my blog, and particularly of the shaping and growing that my experiences here in Korea are providing for me, I felt inclined to share it here, hoping that it will perhaps spark within you some questions or curiosities about how you can tap into the wonderfully calming, centering influence that meditation can bring.
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I am still a complete beginner in the practice of meditation. Sometimes it seems an overwhelming thing to wonder at how I can sit in utter stillness and contemplate only the rhythm of my breath, to still the thoughts that swirl inside. But after the past few days in which things have been weighing heavily on my mind, I knew that meditation was calling me.
I started out simply, sitting cross-legged on my plush yoga mat, the doors and windows in my small room closed, a fan circulating a cooling breeze, and the flow of simple melodies through my headphones. I felt I needed something other than the silence to help me lift out of the weight of the world that I was feeling.
As the melody carried on in my ears, I tried to simply focus on my breathing in and out. Just breathe, breathe, breathe. And then naturally, I started to picture all my strains and tiredness, my fears and uncertainties, my frustrations and sadnesses, being emptied out through my breath. And as I breathed in, I could picture healthy, clean, loving air entering my lungs, infusing into my body. I continued this for some minutes.
I am reaching a stage where the "honeymoon" is ending, and the realities of navigating a career and a life in a foreign place are becoming more and more daunting. I have had some upsets in the past 2 days with my boss, which have been weighing on me heavily. And yet, I know that what I put out into the universe, what I think about, what I believe in, will be echoed throughout the waves of life and ripple back to me again. So I have been working with myself to continue creating the positive, the envision the best of all outcomes, to believe that the wisdom and love that I need to exist with peace and happiness in my life is within reach.
So it was a beautiful and empowering thing what I next experienced in my meditation session. As I continued to center my thoughts on my breath, other smaller thoughts continued to surface. I would simply acknowledge them and set them aside, and return to the thought of my breath. But then, a thought came to me with a more powerful force, a force which my body responded to special attention. I felt my breath deepen, as if I were entering into a deeper cognition. The thought was simply this: "The answer is within you." I felt it then, as I feel it now, like the tenderest of touches of divinity, a soft and loving energy sliding down my shoulders, surrounding me. I melted into this awareness. It felt so inviting, so beautiful.
As I continued my contemplation on this thought, another came to me, with even more power. It was such a clear and simple, yet profound, awareness that I felt as this thought introduced itself to me: "The answer is love." And suddenly, it was as if I was being washed by a waterfall of energy. I felt love radiating around me. I felt the absolute truth of it, the truth of those words, the truth that the anwer inside me, the answer to the essence of what I need to find a joyful existence, is LOVE. It is that simple. I sat for the next few moments wanting to just hold on to that beautiful feeling surrounding me, like a bubble, a shield, that seemed to put any negative thought or reality so far from my reach. Tears streamed down my face, as my body deliciously enjoyed this feeling so strong that it could not seem to be contained.
After a time, my thoughts turned to my colleagues, my "work family," with which, until these past days, I have given and exchanged love and respect. I saw Sunny, our school secretary. I saw Terry and her little boy Ben. I pictured Christine. And Tahira. And I pictured Harrison. As I saw each one in my mind, I enfolded them one at a time in an embrace and, with my arms wrapped around them, spoke in a genuine voice, "I love you." I made it as real in my mind as it could be in physical form. I wanted them to feel and know absolutely that I loved them.As I ended my meditation session, I felt a stillness and peacefulness that I hadn't felt for some time. It was a necessary reminder that the fruits of meditation are worth the time to cultivate. My meditation experience today was sweet and full, and left me feeling lighter somehow, reminding me in the simplest of ways that the answers I seek are within my reach. The answer is within me.

Spirit of a Shaman

Religion and spirituality -- I can't deny that one of the magnetic forces which brought me to Korea was to experience the beauty of Eastern culture as it pertains to the spirit. I have for years been drawn to the ancient elements of religions such as Buddhism and Hinduism, and to the philosophies such as Taoism that guide life for modern society in Asia in much the same way that it has for centuries and centuries.
And so, when I found myself with an opportunity to spend a Sunday morning soaking in the tranquility of ancient rituals being carried out in the foothills of Seoul, I knew the experience would be its own reward. After exiting the metro at Dongnimmun, I followed north along a nondescript alley until it became a steep road leading up into the mountainside. I felt my breath escaping forcefully as drops of sweat fell from my face -- with monsoon season in full swing, the weight of the air was nearly suffocating. Still, I kept one foot in front of the other until, rounding a hairpin turn, I began to ascend a series of shallow, jagged steps cut into the mountain stone. Here, a Buddhist temple stood proudly atop a hill, its golden-painted rooftop shining out from among the deep-green trees. And there, a middle-aged man tossed handfuls of rice to pigeons clucking in symphony near a modest shrine which had been decorated with candles and fresh flowers.
Another turn and upward climb took me to a stairway leading to the Zen rocks, two monolithic rock formations eroded by centuries of wind and rain, a sacred spot for many, as I was about to find. As I crested the steps, I paused at the entrance, suddenly very aware that I was not alone. A simple platform flanked the rocks, and upon it were several men and women, in various stages of worship, their bodies posturing in prayer poses on soft woven mats. I slipped off my sandals and settled onto a mat at the far end of the platform, listening to and watching the humble prayers of these serene strangers. A door opened next to me and a wrinkly grandmother stepped out from her hut, the strong perfume of incense wafting through the cracked door. Behind me, pigeons pecked and gaggled, and she took a broom to sweep them away. To my right, an elderly woman kneeled with a thin book in Korean script and a chain of wooden prayer beads. Her mouth moved in silence, but nothing needed to be said. The atmosphere was spiritually charged yet peaceful. Though I looked a bit out of place, I felt a part of me connected to these people and the serenity which permeated the mountain air on Inwangsha.
I stepped back into my sandals and headed back towards the main gate, then turned east onto a pathway leading along the spine of Inwangsan Mountain. As I ventured further upward, I paused at the entrance to yet another shrine. Candles flickered from inside the dim cavity of a room, and I stood quietly as another elderly woman prostrated in bows of respect before a golden statue. Only a few paces separated us, and I continued on, not wanting my presence to distract her from her worship. I continued upward, minutes later glancing back through a clearing to view a remnant of the Seoul Fortress Wall, its gray stone rising up in a curving ridge along a lush, green background of rolling hillside. I contemplated what this wall has seen and heard in its 700 years of life.
Rounding the corner along the trail, something tinny and rhythmic filtered through the dense, cloudy air. I listened with interest, hoping I was climbing closer to the source of the drum and high-timbered voice which echoed throughout this little pocket of mountain foliage. At last, I found it, at the apex of the trail, in a spot marked with a large slab of flatrock yet somehow tucked neatly out of sight. From the stone steps where I stood, I leaned my torso over the wild brush and watched, my eyes and ears finally nodding to one another in agreement -- this is where the magic was happening. I felt transported, almost, as I gazed on this middle-aged woman, dressed simply yet colorfully in vibrant blue. Here I was, on a peaceful mountaintop, soaking in the fervor of this shaman's prayer, studying the melody, the rhythm, the solemnity with which she chanted. Never once did her eyes open or her voice weaken; her prayer went on in one continuous loop, beginning again and again where I could still not perceive that it had come to an end. I tiptoed quietly back the way I had came, feeling some kind of soulful satisfaction at having stumbled upon this mountain, this woman, her song.
For a few hours of my morning, I felt another world away, swept up in the spirit of the mountains and the religious traditions that coexist here. It has been awhile since I last sat on a church pew, listening to a sermon. Yet I felt spiritually satisfied and at peace. And for me, it was simply enough.

The Destiny We Create

I am realizing more and more how fortunate I feel to be exactly where I am, at this moment. During this past year of my life, something really amazing happened. Mostly it was an inward change, and gradual one at that, but it was as if this little flame of light inside me grew brighter and brighter until I looked clearly at myself one day and realized that I had grown into a person I really loved. I began to see my uniqueness not as something to separate me from others, not as something to hide away or minimize or deflect, but as something to prize, to celebrate, and appreciate.
For a soul whose spirit yearns for serenity and inner freedom much as an eagle yearns to soar the skies, and who has experienced through the harsh realities of life the ache of clipped wings and tethering relationships, this realization was monumental. It was as if I granted myself a huge gift -- the freedom to be exactly who I am, with no guilt, no apologies, no hiding behind the paradigms of others or shrinking to fit within the outline of someone else's shadow. I could live my life, live my dreams. My life became truly my own.
And in the year that has followed, I have witnessed and felt so much healing within myself. I have experienced what I can only explain as an upward spiral as life has taken on brighter and brighter hues, as the doors of opportunity have opened wider and wider for me, as I have reconnected with more and more of the people who have been touchstones in my life. Gone are the days of closing myself off from others or shutting down my innermost self in hopes of calming the raging storm that existed in those who pretended to care most about me.
I have felt, certainly for the first time in a long time, an inner assurance that I am where I am "meant" to be, if there is such a thing, or that, at the very least, I am where I have destined myself to be. I remember countless afternoons spent circling the Hampden Heights East neighboorhood during my daily walk. The sun would filter down through clear, cloudless skies and as I relaxed into the rhythm of my pace, I would visit a corner of my mind where I kept an eye on my future life. It was here that I envisioned myself living and breathing and smiling and ... soaring. And now, months later, here I am, the living embodiment of those earlier visualizations.
What we dream of, what we think about, even that which we fear, we pull towards us with the magnetic energy that is within us. I believe this, I believe this, I believe this. And so, as I begin this new journey, I challenge myself to hold on to the highest and best that exists in my mind and heart, to keep it close to me, and to make this experience another in which I continue to soar.