AOB article Thrival in the new economy

Longer story shorter, if I don’t let my clients wallow in their stories I don’t get to either.  When we came back at the end of the evening my interior light was on and things thrown around in the car.  No windows were broken.  My stomach dropped.  It was unlocked.  I’m a city child.  I lock and double check my car every time I leave it, even just to run in some where for a few minutes. This time I didn’t double check after we dropped something off.  I was chatting & not paying attention.

My whole premise of my business is that we create our own reality.  Why on earth would I create this!?  Our emotions are what give us the most juice in what we attract in our lives.  Emotions are like electricity in an electromagnet.  Attraction is neutral as far as “positive” or “negative” emotions.  It simply follows the path of the strongest emotion.

In my case, fear of having my stuff stolen was the strong emotion for me that day.  That was the strongest path of attraction I was creating.  To continue to wonder why this had happened to me (for the 3rd time in 2 years), to beat myself up for having attracted this would only attract more of the same.

I knew I had to find a perspective that I could use to interrupt my strong negative fear of getting my stuff stolen with an even stronger emotion around creating what I say I want.

I knew I had it when the thought hit me, “Whoa! I am really good at manifesting what I want! Just look at how quickly I did it!  Only a one day of vibrating fear of getting stuff stolen.  Bam! I got exactly what I asked for!

When I realized that I actually laughed out loud. Suddenly the fear was swept away by a sense of fun and just a dash of mischievousness, as I realized how really freakin’ good I am at generating what I want. Since I’m human I knew I’d still have moments of feeling sad, victimy an fearful about the whole thing.  And I also knew I had a really effective thought for diverting my attention and making my happy, generative emotions stronger than fear and protection.

And from now on I promise, promise, promise to listen to that little voice the first time!

It is an amazingly comforting belief to know with absolute certainty that there is always a way.

When I entered Holton-Arms in 9th grade it was a transition from a very dark phase of my life to a sort of renaissance, a blossoming for me.  I had a bit of a backwards experience.  For me elementary school was the nightmare most people experience in high school.  I was at the bottom of the social food chain.  I struggled academically.  Even though I could quickly grasp the concepts I couldn’t perform tasks like regurgitating a list of spelling words dictated on Friday, memorize multiplication facts or even copy numbers or words correctly from the board.  Every day of school was a fresh experience of the same nightmare.

I was fortunate to live in Washington, DC where there was this new cutting edge organization called The Kingsbury Center.  It was a bit of a relief to find out I wasn’t insane or a complete idiot as I felt like for not being able to perform those basic elementary school tasks.  But it didn’t help much as my classroom teachers declared no one was going to tell them how to run their classroom and refused to even try any of the recommendations in the evaluation.

My acceptance letter to Holton-Arms read, “Based on Lydia’s Kingsbury report we think geometry may be a real challenge.  We’re up for it if Lydia is.”  There seemed to be a break in the dark clouds hanging over my life.

Then on the first day of school they seemed to descend again.  I broke my toe the day before so walking was slow and painful. My transportation option was a private vanpool company that didn’t have it together and didn’t get me to school until half way through first period.  At lunch, before I got a bite I dropped my full tray of food.  I fled the cafeteria and headed for a back hallway.  There I crossed paths with our headmaster, Jim Lewis.  He greeted me by name.  I don’t remember the conversation, just the experience of feeling safe and nurtured as he ushered me back into the flow of the school day.

Holton lived up to the promise in my acceptance letter.  My teachers never let me use my dyslexia as an excuse or crutch. Neither did they let it serve as a barrier to my success.  They worked with me to find ways to evaluate my work that was fair to both me and the other students.

I had such a great time in high school.  Our teachers really cared.  I remember classes as fun lively debates and discussions. The workload was heavy.  Standards were high, and we were supported every step of the way. We were encouraged to try everything.  I spent many happy hours in the darkroom and on the playing fields and just hanging out in the breezeway to the library.

Our social dynamics were different.  We were an all girls school.  We had different groups, but I never experienced the nasty, predatory cliquishness I’ve heard others relate from their high school experience.  There were girls I wouldn’t have ever hung out with outside of school, and we tended to have different areas around campus where we spent our free periods, but if we happened to be in the darkroom or assigned to a project together we’d chat and goof off and get along just fine.

I lost touch with everyone when I moved out to California and became a teacher.  Reunions were always the weekend right after spring break.  A terrible time for me to make the cross-country trek.  The physical distance soon became a metaphorical one as well.

This is the first reunion year since I left teaching and I have the flexibility go back to DC.  It’s an interesting repeat.  Like a big wheel completed a rotation.  Deja vu.  Here I am landing back in the Holton arms (pun intended) just as I’m coming out a dark cycle reminiscent of the one the first time I came to Holton.

Dina, now a jewelry designer created a special piece for our reunion.

I really needed this weekend to remember my roots.    It’s impossible to explain to anyone who didn’t go through the Holton experience.  And anyone who did immediately knows all the nuanced meanings behind our school motto of “Find a way or make one.”  There’s something so comforting about it.  As Liz articulated, “You know that no matter how bad things are you’ll find a way through and will be OK.”  It’s the sense of confidence.  Holton had high expectations and demanded alot of us, but we were never pitted against one another.  There was this sense that there was enough room for achievement for all and that one person’s success didn’t mean another’s loss.  That’s why Ruth and I were able to have such a fun competition academically.  It was so awesome to be in a place where academic achievement was not only ok, but was treated with humor.  When I went to college I dumbed in classes to fit in.

There was an appreciation for the range of different types of achievement, interests and abilities.  Some people were amazing athletes. Some were musicians, others were academic stars. Acknowledging and honoring all different types of talents and abilities was the culture.  I guess our jocks didn’t rule the school like in other places because, while their achievements were valued, so were those of the It’s Academic team and the actors and artists and choir.  Since our teachers and administrators valued all our different contributions we tended to respect each other’s different ways – even if we weren’t particularly interested ourselves.  

At our 25th reunion an old acquaintance became a new friend.

And this time I fell into orbit with someone new.  In high school we just sort of never crossed paths much.  This weekend they kept crossing and I made a new friend out of an old acquaintance

I’m in what often feels like a really precarious and uncertain phase.  I’ve been holding my breath hoping I can actually pull off this crazy stunt with my life. Everyone I talked to this weekend had the Holton attitude of “Of course you’re going to succeed, that’s what we do.  It may not be how we first planned, it may require some serious last minute revamps, there may be some hilarious disasters,  but off course you’re going to find a way or make one.”

Watching my classmates organizes this weekend cracked me up.  It was so high school all over again.  It’s like a spontaneously generating S.W.A.T team. One or two people step up & start the organizing.  Suddenly a committee emerges. Communication systems are established.  Leaders of different components emerge.  Input from the whole group is requested.  If you exercise your vote, awesome, if not that’s fine to. Input is considered and decisions are made.  I think that’s the main factor that makes our organizers so effective.  They make thoughtful and swift decisions.

I hear they are putting together a Real Housewives of DC TV show.  These are the real women of DC.  Though it’d never fly as a reality show.  Rarely are there power struggles or hurt feelings if an idea isn’t used.  Organization teams cross group lines, whoever wants to help is welcomed.  Labor tends to be divided equally.  Committee meetings are fun.  Connections are contacted, calls are made.   #$^& gets done.

This weekend I remembered everything I learned at Holton – well the stuff that really matters.  I realized, if I really, really needed it I could call in the cavalry for support.  Not only would I have support, resources, contacts, ideas, connections who knows what else. I do know for sure that there will be really good food.

Thank you to Dina Zupnick of Dizzy designs for the pictures. You don’t have to be a “Holton girl” to order the pendant.  Contact her at dzupnik at comcast dot net to order.

If you are a fan of The Secret and other books about manifesting what you want in your life this is an absolute must read.  She explains about the concept of the vacuum.  Which is the essential third leg of the stool that most of the others leave out.

She has a beautiful explanation on the original spiritual purpose of tithing.

If you like affirmations you’ll love this book.  She’s got one for just about everything!