The Response

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My grandmother repeatedly told me “life’s not fair,” and I never felt the need to argue this point with her. She was right; life isn’t fair. It doesn’t owe us a fucking thing—we get out of it what we put into it. Faced with adversity, we can quit midway through, dejected, hurt and spent, or we can pick ourselves up off the floor and finish the game. We may fall down again. We might even find ourselves all the way back to start, with nothing but our own skin protecting us from the cold, harsh realities we don’t want to face. Sometimes there’s a hand held out toward us in a gesture of help, while at other times, that same hand is rudely slapping us across the face. No matter how many times we stumble, and no matter how many times we fail, all that matters is how we respond.

Thanks to the work of psychologists John Bowlby, Mary Ainsworth and others, we’re now aware that the quality of the early bond between a parent and a child is a highly significant predictor of that child’s later success in life. The relationships a child will seek and engage in, the career paths he’ll follow, and all the other major choices he’ll make, are heavily influenced by the nature of the initial attachment he experiences with his caregivers. If a child doesn’t receive all the love, comfort and protection he requires and craves in those critical months and years, he may find himself adrift, desperately searching for anything to replace what he didn’t know was missing. Those struggling to form healthy, secure relationships, may not fully comprehend what lies at the core of the difficulties and challenges they face. To understand this may require the kind of introspection they may be incapable of doing alone.

I’ve consulted with several different therapists, and while some were more successful than others at giving me the ability to reframe the conversations inside my head, none specifically told me I may have suffered from “insecure, anxious attachment” to my primary caregivers—I’ve figured that out on my own. My formal diagnosis was PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), as a result of the childhood abuse and neglect I suffered at the hands of various parental figures.

It’s difficult to reflect upon these early relationships, given how far in the subconscious these experiences may be buried, whether due to memories too painful to bear or the simple passage of time. I knew something wasn’t right with my parental figures but wasn’t initially sure who played what part in what became a long journey of self-discovery. I initially blamed my father for nearly everything. I blamed him for the poverty we experienced as children; for my sister’s experiences with rage at such an early age; for not protecting me from my stepmother and her random, unpredictable emotions; and for joining a religion that would forever plant a wedge in our relationship. He was a violent son-of-a-bitch. He beat all of his children mercilessly on multiple occasions, his hideous belt swinging at all of us whenever he could no longer control his temper. He struck my mother often when I was just a toddler, which helped me to see her as a wounded individual, more deserving of pity than love, so much so that I’d find it difficult to separate the two concepts in my own relationships. Given what I’d experienced, it was easy to see her as a victim. Perhaps because of this, my memories of the things she did for me, not the things she didn’t, formed the narrative I’d hold on to well into my early forties.

The world has been a confusing and at times overwhelming place for me to live. The uncertainties of life have often given me great anxiety, to the point where those fears have escalated into full-blown panic attacks, requiring medication or even hospitalization. Everyone deals with the unpredictable nature of existence in various ways. Some are secure enough not to be thrown off course by the termination of a relationship or a job, confident they will find another, perhaps even more suitable combination. I once envied such people, wondering what made them so different from me. I carried around the idea for a long time that something was missing, or broken, inside of me.

Human relationships have been a source of disabling pain and conflict for me. My need for security, my yearning for approval, my desire to belong, and my longing to feel loved and accepted have all influenced how and why I formed certain attachments. My intense craving for companionship and fear of being alone has lead me to form precarious and risky bonds, the nature of which I didn’t give much thought to when I initiated them. I’ve often latched onto individuals I thought I could “fix” or “help” to reach their full potential, determined to be a “superhero” that could mold them into people they weren’t capable of being or simply didn’t want to be. I’d let the pursuit of my personal happiness take a back seat to the unattainable goal of helping others find their own happiness.

I know what it’s like to feel stuck, trapped, and unable to decide what to do, when to do it or how to do it. Easily manipulated and frequently caught up in endless loops of indecisiveness, impulsive behavior and poor decision-making, I’ve assumed passive roles with partners I wasn’t suited for, and have found myself taking on their issues as my own. I’ve stayed far too long in jobs that demanded less of my intellect and ability. I even accepted a highly controlling religion instructing me how to think and how to behave.

I’ve seen people make choices, but I’ve also seen their choices make them. I’ve met individuals who appear to know how to live with intention, masterfully and fearlessly in control of creating their own story. I’ve observed others stumbling around in the dark looking for signs, but when they’re presented with those signs, don’t know how to read them. I’ve also known many who claim to be victims of circumstances, taking themselves off the hook for all outcomes, seeing the events in their lives as things happening to them, and not because of them. I was once one of these people.

For much of my life, I considered myself to be out of control and could not or would not see I had the power to change course. I’ve known indecision on many levels and the anxiety that accompanies it. My decisions in many critical moments have set me on a trajectory toward even more critical decisions I wasn’t well equipped to make, leading me to plunge deeper and deeper into holes I’d spend a long time digging out of. There were alarms going off, but either I chose to ignore them, didn’t fully recognize them for what they were, or was simply afraid to hear them. Had I heeded those alarms, I would’ve been forced to take a leap into the unknown, and that’s often frightened me more than the prospect of staying in a toxic situation.

Preoccupied with doing, I’ve given little thought to the long-term consequences or outcomes derived from my actions. In my constant hurry to go somewhere, I’ve approached life as a giant “task-list” to check off as quickly as possible, filling my hours and days with every activity imaginable. This has provided me with the instant gratification I’ve sought, and just as importantly, the sensation of forward motion. Moving quickly toward some destination, I haven’t always known where I was going—I was just going, I was certain of that. As a consequence, I’ve repeatedly ended up where I was without knowing how or why I got there.

Whatever the forces of gravity imposed upon us by our choices, our inner peace is determined, in part, by our acceptance of the outcomes of those choices. While I’m aware of this now, I haven’t always been able to rise above my circumstances or learn from my experiences. As many times as I’ve taken the best from a situation, I’ve also discovered the worst, and I do understand it’s not always possible to simply “imagine” things turning around. I’ve experienced moments of indifference, or worse, found enjoyment in sliding down the spiral, sinking further and further into an abyss of polluted emotions. I’ve embraced the darkness and its sleepless nights, letting my suffering and the contemplation over my own wounds define me.

I vividly recall turning twenty-one, my entire life spread out ahead of me like an interstate highway in the middle of the deserts of New Mexico, about a quarter of the way along my journey. I’m the star of my own show, yet the audience isn’t yet ready to applaud. They’re waiting for the next act, and everyone except me, is prepared. This isn’t a dream—I must go on, but I have no idea what to say or do. There are no cue cards, and there’s no director. It’s beyond frightening! How do the other actors know what to do, what to say, when to say it and how to say it? At other times, I stand like an artist contemplating his work, perched in front of an enormous canvas, painting with a brush that’s languished in colored water made muddy from a palette of a hundred choices. Now, my youth is behind me in my rear-view mirror, with many years come and gone, stolen from me so quickly the thief is in and out without being seen.

No matter the life we’ve led, every challenge we’ve ever had, and every individual we’ve ever encountered can teach us valuable lessons. We can choose to take something positive from our voyage, and allow our past to be a precious gift, not an excuse. Seen this way, every experience has purpose and meaning.

The Wise Mind

the wise mindI was recently introduced to Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT). This therpeutic model, in part, utilizes the idea that the mind has three distinct states, a “reasonable mind,” an “emotional mind,” and a “wise mind,” as a mean’s of describing the driving forces behind a person’s thoughts and behaviors. How often we’ve heard someone say they made a decision with their head, and not their heart, or vice-versa. The head is the intellectual, or reasonable mind, while the heart is the emotional mind. Imagine if we made decisions from a place that balances between the two: the wise mind?

I’m familiar with spending the early part of my life making decisions from a purely emotional mind. I didn’t know any better. A great deal of my youth was spent reacting to my constantly shifting, and often dangerous environment. I endured many different adult caregivers, most of whom had far too much emotional baggage to properly consider my thoughts or feelings. When life comes at you faster than you can process what’s happening, you learn to respond emotionally, as there is little to no time available to plan a proper response. Unfortunately, as one grows older, constantly making decisions based on emotion leads one to indulge in impulsive actions with little regard for consequences.

As a young adult, I entered into a relationship no one thinking reasonably would have. I married my first wife because I took pity on her, and felt that our shared, flawed past was a good foundation for our partnership. I felt sorry for her for what she went through, and felt that based on my own traumatic childhood, I’d be able to help her heal from her wounded inner child. I was so wrong. She had issues that were beyond my capacity to deal with, and our relationship crashed tragically in just a few short years, costing me dearly both financially and emotionally.

In my teens, I sought earnestly for a way out of a difficult and stressful situation with my mother. My father had been a Jehovah’s Witness nearly all of my life, and I jumped at the opportunity to join him in his faith as a way of escaping a confusing and conflicted environment. It seemed the Jehovah’s Witnesses held all of the answers to the questions I’d been asking and had a purpose for my life already mapped out. It was a purely emotional decision, as I never thought about what would happen if I should ever decide to no longer believe in what the Jehovah’s Witnesses teach, nor did I even fully research their beliefs prior to joining. That highly charged, snap decision I made as a youth has resulted in me enduring many decades with no relationship with my father or sisters who remain active Jehovah’s Witnesses, not to mention the pain I endured when I lost many close friends as a result of my leaving the group.

I’ve learned more recently the value of slowing down, of focusing on the present. I no longer allow my past to act as an anchor, and I stopped worrying about the future. I understand that I cannot always control my environment, yet I can control how I respond to it. When making decisions I am now able recognize the importance of balancing an emotional response, which may be rooted in past experience, with a reasonable one, which may have a foundation in research or knowledge of facts. I am by no means an expert on this topic but have recognized the value of practicing this approach whenever I am called on to make decisions that will impact me far beyond the present moment.

Image courtesy of https://www.therapistaid.com/therapy-worksheet/wise-mind

Attachment to Identity

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In a previous entry I discussed attachment to experience. Another attachment we may be holding onto that may make it difficult to move from one phase of our lives to another is an attachment to identity. Most recently, I’ve wrestled with the transition of my children from complete dependence on me to formation of their own independent personalities and social connections. It hasn’t been easy and I have in some ways “grieved” the loss of the little selves I was once totally responsible for. I so strongly identified with making their every meal, reading to them at night, and simply being the center of their world, that I’ve found it difficult to let go of the feeling of purpose that this all provided to me. The part that requires work is letting go of this attachment, realizing how necessary it is for me to do that, to allow my children to continue to grow and become adult versions of themselves. Should I not be able to let go of attachment of this identity, it will result in suffering for both me, in ruminating over something I can no longer have and for my children, who would feel me as a weight around their ankle on their journey toward adulthood.

Another significant attachment to identity I once held on to was being one of Jehovah’s Witness. Those who have never been one of Jehovah’s Witnesses cannot relate to the fact that active membership in this religion requires not just full immersion at the time of one’s water baptism, but also full immersion in every aspect of one’s life. You are taught that you shall have no friends who aren’t also Jehovah’s Witnesses, that anyone outside the group is “bad association” who must be avoided at all costs, unless one is trying to indoctrinate them. It would follow then that one should only pick a mate who is one of Jehovah’s Witnesses also. Many Witnesses also find that their employers are also Witnesses. So often a Witness’s entire social structure is built upon connections with only other Witnesses. Second to that is the fact that the daily and weekly activities completely revolve around ones carefully selected by the leaders of the group. From the daily Watchtower guided scripture reading, to the weekly meetings and the requirement that a certain amount of time be allocated to studying Watchtower publications and going “door-to-door,” trying to convince others to believe as they do, there is no time left for any pursuit connected with one’s own independent mind or interests. As a Witness, your identity is entirely connected to being one of Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Should one begin to doubt the teachings of Jehovah’s Witnesses then, one would have to be prepared to completely separate and let go of the identity they have known, which was all consuming. I’ve known some, like myself, who find themselves suddenly outside the tightly controlled group with no friends and no family, their entire social structure suddenly evaporated. The loneliness can be unbearable. The act of filling that void may take the shape of attachments to alcohol, drugs or undesirable and harmful relationships with other people. It took me many years to become aware and conscious of the reasons behind the attachments I formed and how to finally let go of them to achieve inner peace and happiness.

My greater understanding of the lessons my life has been seeking to teach me with regard to attachments came when I learned of “The Four Noble Truths” that Buddha taught 2,500 years ago. Now you do not have to convert to Buddhism to understand these Truths nor do you have to agree with everything Buddha taught; unlike tightly controlled groups like the Jehovah’s Witnesses, Buddhist teachings do not require that everyone accept all or none of it. Even Buddha himself said, “Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.” I like the idea that one does not have to completely immerse themselves in a belief system but can take a teaching that resonates with them, as the Four Noble Truths have with me. I won’t go into The Four Noble Truths in detail here, but the Second Noble Truth deals specifically with the origin of the cause of human suffering, which Buddha taught is the “Attachment to Desire,” which can be a desire for things we want or a desire to avoid things we don’t want. The idea that we can let go of these attachments is key to our achieving happiness.

Whenever I contemplate the difficulty of letting something go, whether it be an attachment to an identity I no longer have or an attachment to an experience, such as having my once youthful body, I think about what those attachments represent, such as a desire to have my children or my body obey my every command (both a form of desire for power), and then I focus on letting them go. This is not easy work, and work that I’ve found comes only with daily practice and meditation. If you’ve struggled with feeling any suffering over the nature of your attachments, I strongly suggest that you read “The Four Noble Truths” and then reflect upon how these Truths may be relevant in your own life.

Image courtesy of http://www.tribalsimplicity.com

Attachment to Experience

nature-forest-waves-trees.jpgHow often have you found yourself making statements such as “I am sick,” or “I am angry,” or even “I am happy.” These “I am” statements serve to identify ourselves as being one and the same with the experience we are having. On a larger scale, we may use such statements in more negative ways, such as “I am poor” or “I am not good at relationships.” We are then confessing that whatever we are going through in that moment has become more than something we are experiencing, it has become something that has come to define us as individuals. And if we adopt a particular framework of who we are, it often further influences our future thoughts and subsequently the actions we take as a result of those thoughts. We may then be caught up in a vicious loop of negative self-images and self-talk that may only further influence the direction our life takes.

I believe the best way to get out of this potentially hurtful loop is to see ourselves as existing separately from our experience. Our experience should not define who we are unless we allow it to. For example, consider the above statement,”I am sick.” What if we instead thought “I am healthy but my body is experiencing an illness.” The identification of seeing oneself as sick may continue to manifest itself as a continually sick body, one which takes longer to heal. By seeing the self as healthy, yet moving through the experience of being sick, we may actually allow for a quicker healing process.

Likewise let’s reflect on the aging process. Many fear growing old and dying. Why? Because they are attached to the experience of being young, their former body shape, hair color or the once taut skin they enjoyed. This attachment to the experience of youthfulness causes many to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on expensive hair, skin and body treatments designed to help make them look younger than they actually are. However, none of this stops or even slows down the aging process. What if instead we could accept the impermanence of life, and accept that our bodies were meant to slowly break down and eventually give up, knowing this is an inexorable process that no one on this earth who has ever lived has been able to avoid? Would it not be less stressful to “go with the flow” as it were, and accept our physical changes?

I believe by accepting whatever state we are in, whether it be financial issues, aging, sickness or other major life events, that we can be happier and mentally healthier. At any given moment we are simply moving through an experience or collection of experiences, often not knowing how long it will last. But because we often don’t know how long an experience will last we may be inclined to give in to it, and lose our will to stay unattached from it. However, we must understand thought that absolutely every experience is temporary, as our bodies do not go on forever.

My beliefs are my own and I realize you may have your own thoughts about the connection between yourself and your experiences. Thank you for reading.

Grow Like Your Life Depends Upon It

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I often hear people making comments such as “I wish I was 21 again,” or “what I wouldn’t give to be young again.” Without a doubt, there have been times where I would have reminisced about a past event, or worse, considered what I might have done differently were I able to turn back the clock. It’s beyond tempting to imagine traveling a road not taken, or to consider the jobs we passed up or the partners we didn’t contemplate past the first encounter. “What if?” is a question asked by many millions at one time or another. Surely we can ponder this question also, but at what risk?

What we often fail to realize is that life is like traveling one-way on a highway on which there is no doing over, no turning back, a road on which we will never pass the same spot twice. We must make every inch of the journey count, knowing we are constantly moving forward. What we are moving toward is a matter of perspective, yet it’s also a matter of uncertainty. We may plan for the road ahead, as we would on a real road trip where we pack the map, (or the smart phone with built in navigation), some jumper cables and plenty of food and water. However, as prepared as we may be, we don’t know for certain what lies ahead. Unexpected individuals and circumstances cross our path. Each new event requires a choice and a decision from us. How we act in those moments sets us up for the next set of unforeseen encounters. Before long, we are way down the road and we may not fully understand how we got to where we are. But we keep going because we are compelled to.

I believe there is an innate desire in all of us to want to improve upon our present circumstances, to push forward, to become better versions of ourselves. Sometimes we don’t live up to our own expectations and we may become despondent or even downright depressed as a result. But if we can remove expectations from the equation and just understand that life is a sequence of continued learning as a matter or process, we may just take a little pressure off ourselves. It’s not always easy to grow. We have so many distractions and people and things that are vying for our attention. Our families, our jobs, our innermost desires, are all scrambling to be heard by us. We must be strong enough to push through the clutter, free of expectations, determined to be who we believe we can be. Life is not always easy, but life always finds a way to survive. Like a weed pushing through the pavement we must find our way, and grow like our life depends upon it, because it surely does.

There Is No Ground

Rocky Ground HD Desktop BackgroundI recently read several books written by renowned Buddhist Nun Pema Chodron. In her works, she writes often of being “groundless,” or of living with uncertainty and the realization that there is no real ground underneath our feet. I devoured her works with great interest, knowing that for much of my life I more than anything craved ground under my own feet, and sought in earnest for anything that I could hold on to. My early life was full of chaos and constant change. My parents divorced when I was eight, and then my mother went from being a Jehovah’s Witness to an Episcopalian to a Born Again Christian before I was even 16. My father remarried and brought three more children into the world. We sometimes did not even live in one place for an entire year. I went to four different elementary schools, three different middle schools and two different high schools. In the midst of all these shifts, I desired more and more to have solid ground to stand on, something to count on, something that I knew would always be there, and yet I could not find it. When I was 15, I often found myself up on top of the hill behind our home at the time, praying to whomever might be listening for guidance, direction, and above all else, certainty with regard to where I was headed. I sincerely believed that someone greater than me would finally provide the answers I was seeking.

At 16, I traveled by myself to a town two states away to be with my father for two months. He had recently moved and I’d been missing him dearly. My father had remained a Jehovah’s Witness and I knew there would be an expectation that I would attend the meetings with him while I was there, knowing that there was no way they would leave me in their home alone. So while that was expected, what was unexpected was how in that first meeting I would hear what was indeed music to my confused ears. For most of their followers, the leaders of the Jehovah’s Witnesses have all of the answers, and that day, at that meeting, I felt the same way. No more would I have to worry or dwell on the uncertainty of my own future. I quickly made a formal dedication to this way of life and never looked back. For the first time in my short time on earth, I felt I had a purpose in life! This purpose included going to three different meetings each week, preaching 90 hours a month to others, and ultimately serving in the world headquarters of the group in Brooklyn. I believed I knew exactly what each day would bring, and at the end of the repetition of all of this work was the grand prize of someday living in an earthly paradise! My hope was strong, the earth felt firm under my feet, and nothing could knock me off course. Nothing, that is, until I came to realize that what I believed and what I asked others to believe was not the truth that I once thought it was.

I was crushed, I was rocked, I bounced all over like an errant spring. Walking away from my beliefs meant no longer having a purpose, as well as losing my friends and family. There was no certainty about anything and I lived recklessly, as if I had no tomorrow to live for at all. There was no longer any ground beneath my feet, and I was terrified. Within a year of leaving the Witnesses I found another small piece of ground to hold onto when I found my first wife. Her life was ripe with turmoil and emotional disorder, but once again I had a purpose, to help heal her and see her become the person she was meant to be. Ultimately my actions never proved to be enough to help her and I grew despondent. We parted ways, and once again I found myself adrift in loneliness and despair. It would only take another year for me to find someone to latch onto once again.

In the years that followed I brought children into this world. I was never certain if I was doing the right things as a parent and I did not manage my finances well. I lived in constant fear of the groundlessness of the situation I was in, just dying for someone or something to show me the way out. I prayed to God endlessly for direction once again, much as I had done as a teenager. Sometimes things improved for a short while, only to plunge into chaos once again. I rode a fast running train of anxiety all through my adult life, seemingly moving from one disaster to the next, or at least that’s how I viewed it.

It is best to realize that our lives are generally in a state of flux. The stress comes when our lives do not meet our expectations or desires, when we are not flexible or adaptable enough to adjust to the constantly shifting sands that swirl all around us. We don’t have full control over what is happening, as w cannot control the actions of those we are connected with. By resisting the changes we experience, we actually can make the situation worse. How many times have we been told that when driving a car that is skidding off the road due to hazardous conditions that the best course of action is to steer into the skid? In addition, living with a higher level of chaos, disorder and uncertainty may cause us to crave that certainty on a much higher level.  We may stay in jobs that we are not well suited for, with romantic partners we really have no business being with, and follow religions that dictate and direct our every move. In other words, we may remain stuck in a situation out of an irrational fear of not knowing what may lie on the other side. While stuck where we are, we may fervently cling to a hope that things will get better. But if we are in the wrong place at the wrong time, no amount of hope is going to change our situation.

Only by accepting our current reality and by acknowledging that there is no real ground under our feet will we be prepared to deal with uncertainty while maintaining inner strength and peace. We must not cling to hope as a crutch or an escape from what is really happening. By doing so we may not make the proper adjustments that will enable us to keep moving forward despite what is happening around us. However, we must realize that life does not owe us a thing. We are not entitled to be rich, or happy, or good looking or healthy. If at any time we don’t have one or any of these things, then our acceptance of the situation will make a huge difference between peace and despair. Life is more like a turbulent river than a calm lake. Make peace with the raging rapids as they move you along from place to place, while doing your best to keep your boat, and your head, above water.

The World Within Me Is The World Around Me

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It’s often said that our inner thoughts create our outer reality. I didn’t always believe this. When I was first presented with this concept I scoffed at the idea, believing like so many that we are molded by our circumstances to become who we have become. While to some extent there is truth in the notion that we are products of our environments, (the parents or family members who raised us, the socioeconomic conditions we lived in, etc), we do not have to view these formative conditions as the final definition of our existence. Believing that we cannot rise above our current or former conditions is a “limiting belief,” and one that will certainly stand in the way of our creating a new and exciting story for ourselves. For a good overview on channeling the power of our beliefs to change the course of our lives, check out Dr. Bruce Lipton’s book The Biology of Belief (http://www.hayhouse.com/biology-of-belief-10-anniversary-edition-paperback).

It is highly unfortunate that most religions, especially controlling groups like the Jehovah’s Witnesses, teach that only God can change someone’s life. There is no credit given to the power of the individual and their own mind to create a beautiful life. Jehovah’s Witnesses generally look forward to a “New System of Things” which is based on a belief that God will restore the perfection to mankind that was lost in the original Garden of Eden. Having once been a Jehovah’s Witness, I completely understand now how my firm belief that God was going to bring about changes in me, my family members and the world at large, completely drained me of any understanding I may have had about how to personally make my own life better through my own actions. Indeed, when I left the group abruptly just prior to turning 21 I had no idea what to do with the forlorn lump of clay that was my life at the time. It took me another 21 years to be introduced to, and then accept the idea that it was my own thoughts, my own beliefs, my own choices, and ultimately my own actions which would chart the course of my life.

There are so many who look to religion to fulfill their need for guidance and direction. I’m not against belonging to a church and enjoying the fellowship with others of similar faith. However, if we are not happy with our present state, we must go inside for answers. We need to take time to get to know ourselves. How to best do that? I have found meditation to be extremely helpful. Cleansing the mind of all thoughts, worries and anxiety is a good start. A therapist I once knew, who helped me immensely, said that meditation is like a “brain shower;” we cleanse the physical body so why would we not also seek to cleanse the mind? Meditation knows no religious affiliation. Contrary to what many religions teach, meditation is not a practice that runs in opposition to a belief in God. To the contrary, by meditating we can make contact with the higher power that exists within each one of us, which many believe is from God. Whatever you believe, this power to change your world is there, ready for you to harness. There are many great resources for guided mediation. I have been enjoying one from Deepak Chopra (www.deepakchopra.com). I suggest that if you have never tried meditation that you approach it with an open mind and give it a chance. Find a quiet place and be still. You might be surprised at how quickly the world around you changes when you begin taking a closer look at the one within you. Namaste.