The Road Less Traveled

This was originally posted in June of 2011, four months before my dad died.  Not surprisingly, the prayer I offered for him at the end of this piece was never answered.

I see a lot of myself in Dad.  He’s always been a Glass Half Empty kind of guy, his thoughts and opinions naturally traveling down the darkest highway.  A card-carrying pessimist, his words of wisdom to us kids punctured any hope we might have had.  If we complained about doing our chores, he would say, “There are a lot of things in this world you have to do whether you want to or not” or “Get used to it, life is hard.”

Since the time I was in high school, I’ve listened to him bemoan every change in his aging body, never at peace with the natural adjustments any adult male has to make, never able to reconcile himself to the thirty-five year old he thinks he still should be.

I understand this fantasy thinking.  I understand the draw of the past and refusing to live in the present.  I’ve traveled his dark highway and know all the shortcuts.  I’ve watched my dad sit at the Table of Life and accept only scraps, convinced that’s all that’s being served.  He prides himself on being fun-loving, but his jokes and teasing carry a sharp edge that has more to do with defense than humor.  My dad was never a teacher, never had the patience to explain, but I learned his road map well.

When I’m with my dad, I try to poke holes in his perception, counter the negativity with perspective, try to do for him what I must do for myself.  But after a lifetime of indulging his world-view without question, his defenses are solid.  At times I see him struggle to consider the possibility of an alternate route.  If I hammer hard enough, he pauses in his argument to say, “Is that so?”  But, it’s exhausting work, and I can’t keep it up.  And I can’t make him willing.

The desire to turn off the dark highway  comes from within.  It comes from noticing flickers of light on the side of the road, glimpses of intriguing pathways and crossroads.  It comes from taking a risk and swerving off the black pavement for once.  Then, doing it again.  And it takes willingness to ask for directions from people who keep different kinds of maps in their glove compartments.

Father’s Day is tomorrow.  My gift for Dad is a simple prayer—to get the chance to take a side road.  I pray he finds the strength to stand on a bright lane with grass waving green and high on either side, a glass half full in his hand.

Hero

I just can’t seem to stop fighting this episode.  I have things to do, chapters to write, events to attend, but the depression, agitation and convoluted thinking keep getting in my way.  It’s like wearing a hair shirt on the inside of my body—the itch and irritation only compound my already-agitated state.  I’m not helping myself much lately.

I lose myself in fantasy for comfort and distraction, but that’s a treacherous path.  What I need to do is pay attention, not drift off into Star Trek-land where “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average” (thank you, Garrison Keillor).

This is a very old trope, almost as old as compulsive eating.  I leave the sadness and despair of my real life to create a fictional crisis where a hero Saves the Day.  Sometimes, I imagine a line up of potential heroic figures (Indiana Jones, Picard, Batman, Wolverine, etc.), and circle around each one like a fish monger, picking the Catch of the Day.  The winner gets to star in my mental melodrama.  I remember when Clark Gable was part of this line up back when we used to see Gone With the Wind in theaters every year.  I was in junior high.  That’s how old this form of distraction is.

But, like compulsive eating, it just doesn’t seem like a healthy or useful activity anymore.  It smudges the boundary between mental illness and creative storytelling.  It keeps me numb and blind.  And ultimately, it makes me even more sad, because there’s no finding those heroes in real life.

Today, as I churned up white water during my aerobics class, a tiny voice behind all that fantasy said:

You are your own Hero.  

My life gets interrupted all the time by this illness.  Projects have to wait.  Events get cancelled.  The “To Do” list gets thrown away.  Attention must turn away from those things and gaze upon the illness with compassion.  No need to fight.  No need to escape.  No need to be anywhere but here, treating myself the way I deserve to be treated.  Only I can do that for me.  I’m the only one who can save me.  I am the Hero.

The Truth of Truth

Truth is such a relative term.

There’s my truth, and your truth; the Republicans’ truth and the Democrats’ truth; the Christians’ truth and the Atheists’ truth; Nature’s truth; Economic truth… the list could go on and on.  How can there be so many seemingly contradictory truths?

In his book Prometheus Rising, Robert Anton Wilson posits that the human brain contains a Thinker and a Prover.  Whatever the Thinker thinks, the Prover will prove.

If the Thinker thinks that the sun moves around the earth, the Prover will obligingly organize all perceptions to fit that thought; if the Thinker changes its mind and decides the earth moves around the sun, the Prover will reorganize the evidence.

If the Thinker thinks “holy water” from Lourdes will cure its lumbago the Prover will skillfully orchestrate all signals from the glands, muscles, organs, etc. until they have organized themselves into good health again.

And if the Thinker thinks passionately enough, the Prover will prove the thought so conclusively that you will never talk a person out of such a belief, even if it is something as remarkable as the notion that there is a gaseous vertebrate of astronomical heft (“GOD”) who will spend all eternity torturing people who do not believe in his religion.

For me, this illustrates the power of thought and our human potential.  It also shows me how delusional I am and how easy it is to believe my own delusions.  And not because I have bipolar disorder and am prone to delusions, but because I am a human being prone to delusion.

This week, during conversations and while reading, I was struck again and again by the way we will seize truth, latch onto it with a death grip and claim it, absolutely, for our own.  We pull together all the collateral evidence to shore up our new conviction, stitch together a flag, and take our Truth on the road.  It means we don’t have to worry anymore, at least until our Thinker gets another brainstorm and sends the Prover off to do its thing.  We can ride the wave of our Truth, blissfully snoring away in our new-found comfort.

Which is what Thinking and Proving is all about—finding safety and comfort in a world that feels threatening and unfathomable; validating our sense of self (or egos), and maintaining the internal status quo.

It’s exhausting.

So, my response is to consider everything the Thinker throws at me with curiosity and gentle skepticism.  And when the Prover runs back with all its goodies, I try to hold each one lightly, picking it up and setting it down without grasping.  This, too, is hard work.  But I have an advantage over most people.  I know I’m delusional.

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 22

My last offering of gratitude for the week I spent in Pittsburgh goes to all the unintentional opportunities to do the Work.  Imagine 17-19 people in a spacious, yet single-family home; eating together out of a small galley kitchen and one dining room table; sleeping together in four, large basement rooms on a few beds and mostly air mattresses (four people slept outside in tents).  Add four bathrooms with two showers.  Also add three little dogs, two of them quite old and temperamental, who lived in the kitchen/family room area.  Then, floor the meeting room, dining room, walkway to the kitchen, hallway to the bathrooms with showers, and exit to the pool with expensive carpet that Melanie wanted kept dry and spotless.  Include dozens of antique china plates, cups and saucers displayed openly all around the dining and meeting areas.  Surround the pool area with a huge garden of precious day lilies and set old, fragile jade plants near the entryways.  And keep boxes of wine available on the kitchen counter to those who would like to imbibe.

To say we needed to stay conscious and self-aware just doesn’t cut it.  And of course, none of us could hold that awareness perfectly.  Wine got slopped.  A plate broke.  An ink pen marked the sofa.  Pool water puddled in the bathrooms.  Rules got forgotten, remembered, then forgotten again as our attention was captured by discussion topics, the rush to finish in the bathroom so someone else could use it, fatigue, finding a place to perch to eat a meal, or the heat.  The tension of navigating so many people in a high-maintenance space created the potential of sending us all into our personalities and egos, but it also created the potential of building chi.  And with more chi comes more raw material to build consciousness.

I felt myself doing both—diving into personality (especially when I broke a plate) and building chi.  And as I worked that space between the two, I marveled how I continued to be emotionally stable under all that stress.  My emotions and reactions were the same ones everyone else had—irritation, wounded pride, guilt, shame—and my response was the same as others as well.  Clean it up, shake it off, and move on.  And while the work of holding awareness and tension was incredibly difficult, the fact that I could accept my imperfection in the task seems huge to me.  I am who I am, whether that’s stable or during an episode, aware or asleep, fat or thin.  No more apologies.

The Road Less Traveled

I see a lot of myself in Dad.  He’s always been a Glass Half Empty kind of guy, his thoughts and opinions naturally traveling down the darkest highway.  A card-carrying pessimist, his words of wisdom to us kids always carried a bit of the crypt.  If we complained about doing our chores, he would say, “There are a lot of things in this world you have to do whether you want to or not” or “Get used to it, life is hard.”  Since the time I was in high school, I’ve listened to him bemoan every change in his aging body, never at peace with the natural adjustments any adult male has to make, never able to reconcile himself to the thirty-five year old he thinks he still should be.

I understand this fantasy thinking.  I understand the draw of the past and refusing to live in the present.  I’ve traveled his dark highway and know all the shortcuts.  I’ve watched my dad sit at the Table of Life and accept only scraps, convinced that’s all that’s being served.  He prides himself on being fun-loving, but his jokes and teasing carry a sharp edge that has more to do with defense than humor.  My dad was never a teacher, never had the patience to explain, but I learned his road map well.

When I’m with my dad, I try to poke holes in his perception, counter the negativity with perspective, try to do for him what I must do for myself.  But after a lifetime of indulging his world-view without question, his defenses are solid.  At times I see him struggle to consider the possibility of an alternate route.  If I hammer hard enough, he pauses in his argument to say, “Is that so?”  But, it’s exhausting work, and I can’t keep it up.  And I can’t make him willing.

The desire to turn off the dark highway  comes from within.  It comes from noticing flickers of light on the side of the road, glimpses of intriguing pathways and crossroads.  It comes from taking a risk and swerving off the black pavement for once.  Then, doing it again.  And it takes willingness to ask for directions from people who keep different kinds of maps in their glove compartments.

Father’s Day is tomorrow.  My gift for Dad is a simple prayer—to get the chance to take a side road.  I pray he finds the strength to stand on a bright lane with grass waving green and high on either side, a glass half full in his hand.

Training Checklist: Lay in Supplies

I’m back.  The dust-up I wrote about yesterday turned out to be just that—a temporary bipolar blip taken care of by an afternoon in bed and a handy automatic weapon.  Bipolar Bad-Ass Training recommences.

Every warrior checks her supplies between engagements.  The next battle may rage long-term, so she lays in rations, weapons, ammo and any other tools needed.  She anticipates her needs.  Likewise, there are a few things I need to take care of before the next episode comes.

I’ve needed to get my eyes checked and new glasses for a long time now.  I also need a haircut.  And then, there’s my disintegrating underwear.  When I’m depressed, when I’m manic, I can’t do these little chores.  Just thinking about them makes me cry.  Then, during my usual respites between episodes, I find a million other ways to fritter away my money.  But, I’m in training now.  My parents offered to pay for my glasses, so I need to take care of that.  Period.  And when the shooting starts, I can’t have my bangs falling into my eyes ( not to mention where my underwear ends up).

Once I get these chores taken care of, I need to sock away a little money each week I’m in training to off-set future compulsive spending.  This is something I’ve never done, but it feels right.  It feels like something Linda Hamilton would do.

Then, there are the spiritual supplies to secure.  The only way I know to do that is to meditate.  Daily meditation builds spiritual muscle.  It builds a space where my mind can rest and remember its true nature.  Meditation provides me with the tools to watch my thoughts, to surrender to the Now, and to break the hold illusion has on me.  I have difficulty meditating alone.  I procrastinate.  I get itchy.  But, I can’t attend my meditation group regularly, so in order to develop the mental depth and flexibility needed for the coming storm, I must meditate on my own.  I’m in training now.  No excuses.

I feel like I’m missing something.  Hmm.  What I’ll do is keep a new list:  Things I Need for the Next Engagement.  If something else comes to me, I won’t lose it while performing all my other training exercises.  Unlike other Bad-Asses, we bipolars have the memory problem to contend with.  It just wouldn’t do to forget the rocket launcher.

The Naguals—Unhooking from the Dream

Welcome to the final session of our work with the Toltec teachings.

If you’re joining us for the first time, please read the five previous posts first:  The Naguals—Dreaming, The Naguals—Personal Power, The Naguals—Become Impeccable, The Naguals—Self-Importance, and The Naguals—Death as an Advisor before continuing.  Again, this psycho-spiritual work is intense.  Challenging our core beliefs and breaking with routine create fear and anxiety in all human beings.

If you are currently suffering from a bipolar or psychotic episode, or if you are experiencing anxiety, please save this work for a more stable time.

There is no future.  The future is only a way of talking.  For a sorcerer there is only the here and now.—Don Juan

Erasing Personal History has magical possibilities.  Don’t heal the past. Don’t overcome it.  Erase it.  We don’t erase the events, but our relationship to them that shows up in our behavior, way of being, and way of living.  Whatever was true 20 years ago is no longer true, but we hold on to the ghost of it in our mind.  We resist life.  Resistance comes from our belief that we are incapable of acting outside the inventory of our past.  Family and friends strengthen this resistance by forbidding us to act outside our history.  If we become a mystery to those around us and to ourselves, our ego breaks down as our reality breaks open.

It is not advisable to focus on past events.  The average man measures himself against the past, whether his personal past or the past knowledge of his time, in order to find justifications for his present or future behavior, or to establish a model for himself.—Don Juan

Ω

For all of our life we have carried a corpse with us.  That corpse is what we believe we are.—Don Miguel

The Third Agreement—Don’t Make Assumptions

The fog of our Dream causes us to misinterpret and misunderstand everything.  We make assumptions based on our fantasies.  The problem is we believe they’re true, then take it personally.  Assumptions are formed instantaneously, because we’ve agreed to communicate this way.  Asking questions isn’t safe.  If people love us, they should know what we want or feel.  After all, we share the world view.  All our Drama is based on taking personally all the assumptions we make.  Not making assumptions requires us to ask questions, be clear about what we want and need.  Our word becomes impeccable.

As we finish our work with the Naguals, take a moment and tune into to your sense of self.  As you breathe, notice your energy, your emotional state, your personal power.  Step back from any idle thoughts.  Remember that you are a spiritual warrior with the power to unhook from the World Dream by being impeccable with your word, by always doing your best, by never taking anything personally and by never making assumptions.  Practice living in the present and keeping Death close as an advisor.  Stalk yourself as you would prey, alert for the signs of falling back to sleep.

By using the Four Agreements in our own life, we modify our personal dream, and soon our new dream will modify the outside dream.  There is no need to actively try to modify the outside dream.  This happens naturally as a result of our own transformation.  Deciding to focus on freedom isn’t selfish; it is the greatest gift we can give to humanity.—Don Miguel

Journaling

What’s the one past event you use to define yourself?  How does that corpse hold you back from living in the present?

Imagine going to a party and not talking about yourself.  How would you field questions about who you are, what you do?

Jot down some of the assumptions you have about the people who read this blog.  Be honest with yourself.  How have you taken these assumptions personally?  How have your assumptions effected your comments, how often you visit the blog, visits to other blogs?  How have your assumptions contributed to your internal Drama?  Which of these assumptions would you like to vaporize?  Post questions in your comments that will do that.

Non Journaling Homework

Don’t automatically reveal everything you do to other people (put your ego in the back seat).  Avoid explainingwhat you do and tactfully refuse inquiries.

If you feel yourself making assumptions, stop, acknowledge the assumption, then ask questions.


The Naguals—Death as an Advisor

Welcome to Part Five of our work with the Toltec teachings.

If you’re joining us for the first time, please read the four previous posts first:  The Naguals—Dreaming, The Naguals—Personal Power, The Naguals—Become Impeccable, and The Naguals—Self-Importance before continuing.  Again, this psycho-spiritual work is intense.  Challenging our core beliefs and breaking with routine creates fear and anxiety in all human beings.

If you are currently suffering from a bipolar or psychotic episode, or if you are experiencing anxiety,please save this work for a more stable time.


For anyone experiencing severe depression or thoughts of suicide, this lesson may be harmful.


How can anyone feel so important when we know that death is stalking us?—Don Juan

We’re trained at a young age to forget that we are mortal (life insurance, inheritance, lineage, heaven, resurrection, reincarnation).  The ego is faced with the ultimate task of protection.  Death is not the negation of life, but the negation of ego.  Life is sustained by death through natural cycles.  Our bodies, as energetic entities, have intrinsic knowledge of their destinies and interact directly with the unknown.

Our illusion of immortality causes us to expend a great amount of energy on procrastination; repressing affection; ignoring beauty; defending our self-image; indulging in feelings of hate, rancour, offense and pettiness; worrying to the point of depression; complaints, impatience and feelings of defeat.

The thing to do when you’re impatient is to turn to your left and ask advice from your death.  An immense amount of pettiness is dropped if your death makes a gesture to you, or if you catch a glimpse of it, or if you just have the feeling that your companion is there watching you.—Don Juan

Conscious human beings are aware of their mortality and so don’t waste their time on self-limiting acts and thoughts.  They know that death is stalking them and make death their greatest advisor.  Acting as if every act were your last leads us into mystery and imbues every act with power.

Death is the only wise advisor that we have.  Whenever you feel, as you always do, that everything is going wrong and you’re about to be annihilated, turn to your death and ask if that is so.  Your death will tell you that you’re wrong; that nothing really matters outside its touch.  Your death will tell you “I haven’t touched you yet.”—Don Juan

Journaling

Dialogue with your death as if it is a character.  What questions do you have?  What advise do you want?  What feelings rise as you write?  Do your priorities shift?  Can you sense your personal power?  Does it change as you converse with your death?

Attend your Book of Law.  Are any of the rules loosening?

Non Journaling Homework

This week if you feel worn out by life, defeated or suffering from self-importance, remember your death.  Take a moment to step back, assess the reality of the situation, and measure it against the inevitability of your death.

The Naguals—Self-Importance

Welcome to Part Four of our work with the Toltec teachings.

If you’re joining us for the first time, please read the three previous posts first:  The Naguals—Dreaming, The Naguals—Personal Power, and The Naguals—Become Impeccable before continuing.  Again, this psycho-spiritual work is intense.  Challenging our core beliefs and breaking with routine creates fear and anxiety in human beings with stellar mental health.

If you are currently suffering from a bipolar or psychotic episode, or if you are experiencing anxiety, please save this work for a more stable time.

A warrior can be injured but not offended.  For a warrior there is nothing offensive about the acts of his fellow-men as long as he himself is acting within the proper mood.—Don Juan

Self Importance is the way our ego assembles and maintains its reality for its own self-confirmation and to convince itself it is real. We are chained to “the mirror of self-reflection” and use the majority our energy maintaining our self-image—trying to influence other people’s opinions of us; defending ourselves against criticism; demonstrating that we are the best or the worst, the most beautiful or the most miserable, always “special” in some way.  Eliminating self-importance frees up incredible personal power.

Egomania is a real tyrant.  We must work ceaselessly to dethrone it.  As long as you feel that your are the most important thing in the world you cannot really appreciate the world around you. The world around us is a mystery.  And men are no better than anything else.  To regard the lion and the water rats and our fellow-men as equals is a magnificent act of the warrior’s spirit.  It takes power to do that.—Don Juan

Petty Tyrants

The Petty Tyrant is a tormentor that makes life impossible.  It is an enemy, in a position of power and not under our control (no spouses or children).  The real damage comes from the humiliation and offense that results from taking ourselves too seriously. Working with Petty Tyrants as a form of Stalking (the strategic control of one’s own conduct) which helps break our hold on Self Importance.

The Stalker’s Strategy

  1. Control—to tune the spirit when the Petty Tyrant is trampling us.
  2. Discipline—to gather information on the Petty Tyrant while under siege.
  3. Forbearance—to wait patiently without anxiety, a simple joyful holding back.
  4. Timing—to put into action all we’ve prepared through the first three strategies.
  5. Will—the only element belonging to the Unknown.  Cultivated through conservation of personal power.

Only a warrior can withstand the path of knowledge.  A warrior cannot complain or regret anything. His life is an endless challenge, and challenges cannot possibly be good or bad.  Challenges are simply challenges.—Don Juan

The Second Agreement—Don’t Take Anything Personally

We assume everything is about us, when everything is really about them.  Most of all, we can’t take ourselves personally.

You are like you are, because you tell yourself that you are that way.—Don Juan

Journaling

Write about your Petty Tyrant and a specific situation.  Begin to consider this person and circumstance as an opportunity for stalking your impeccability and loosening your hold on self-importance.

  1. What difference does it make to consider this person as an enemy instead of someone to tolerate or fear?
  2. What kind of control could you have exercised in this situation?  Write as if you had played out that control.  How does the situation change?
  3. What information could you have gathered about your Petty Tyrant?  What discipline would be required to do this?  Write about summoning this discipline and how the situation changes.
  4. Remove any haste or anxiety from the scene.  How does waiting patiently change the situation?
  5. Consider the timing of your actions and reactions.  How would you alter your timing?  What are the results?
  6. Did you exercise your will?  How might you have used your will differently?  Write about doing this and how the situation changes.
  7. Pay attention to any remaining feelings of offense or humiliation.  Recognize the energy being expended to maintain these feelings.

Make a list of 20 things you feel a strong attachment to:  People, Things, Events, Feelings, Beliefs.

  1. On a scale of 1-10, how much attachment do you have to these items?
  2. Chose an object on your list that you adore and feel attachment to (at least a 5 rating).
  3. List some reasons why you’re attached to this object.
  4. Consider how much energy you spend maintaining your attachment to this object.  On a scale of 1-10, how much attention and energy is spent:  Protecting the object from others?  Keeping it in perfect condition?  Paying for maintenance or protection?  Worrying about it?

Non-Journaling Homework

Practice stalking your own behavior.  Observe yourself as you would prey.

Notice when you become offended and mark your self-importance.




The Naguals—Become Impeccable

Welcome to Part Three of our work with the Toltec teachings.

If you’re joining us for the first time, please read the posts The Naguals—Dreaming and The Naguals—Personal Power before continuing.  Again, this psycho-spiritual work is intense, requiring that we break with routine and challenge our beliefs.

If you are currently suffering from a bipolar or psychotic episode, or if you are experiencing anxiety, please save this work for a more stable time.

To be sensitive is a natural condition of certain people.  In the final analysis sensitivity matters very little.  What matters is that the warrior be impeccable.—Don Juan

Being impeccable is not going against ourselves.  When we are impeccable, we take responsibility for our actions without judgment or blame (no sin!).

To assume responsibility means that we are ready to die for our decisions and actions.  With knowledge of mortality, every act should be performed as if it were the last, every choice a conscious one.  There are no small or big decisions.  We act decisively and completely, but then must take responsibility for those acts.  A warrior knows first why he’s acting, and then proceeds without having doubts or remorse.

Doubt, justification, blame, complaints and timidity make us cling to the Dream.  They lull the mind into maintaining the old agreements instead of breaking out of them.

It is of no use to be sad and complain and feel justified in doing so, believing that someone is always doing something to us.  Nobody is doing anything to anybody, much less to a warrior.  A warrior is not a leaf at the mercy of the wind.  No one can push him; no one can make him do things against himself or against his better judgment.  You are here because you want to be here.  You should have assumed full responsibility by now, so the idea that you are at the mercy of the world would be inadmissible.—Don Juan

The First Agreement—Be Impeccable with your Word

This is the most powerful way to assume responsibility, begin breaking agreements, begin returning personal power, and generating more power.  Our word is our power of creation, of manifestation.  It is a force and a tool.

Opinion is only our point of view created out of our Book of Law, ego and our own Dream.  It is true because we believe it’s true.  We cast spells with our opinions—especially with those we love.  Opinions are hooks for our attention.  Through gossip (about ourselves and others), we use our word to spread our personal poison—anger, jealousy, self-loathing, fear.  Gossip creates a false sense of intimacy.

The extent that we break our commitments to others is directly proportional to the commitments we break with ourselves.  We tell ourselves we don’t have the power to follow through–then we don’t.

The Fourth Agreement—Always Do Your Best

No more, no less.  The definition of “best” constantly changes.  Doing one’s best is action generated from passion, not obligation or expectation.  Mistakes are viewed as opportunities for learning, not causes of guilt, shame or blame.

Homework

  1. Before speaking today STOP and pay attention to what you are saying.  Notice when you forget and under what circumstances.  What does this have to do with your personal power?
  2. Before making any commitments STOP and ask yourself if you are really willing and passionate about following through.  Make only those commitments you are ready to keep.  Say no to all others.  If you find yourself saying yes, note what Laws are in operation.  Also note the effect saying yes to something you don’t want to do or won’t follow through on has on your personal power.
  3. Practice doing your best.  No more, no less.

Journaling

Do some thinking and journaling on these topics

  1. Self-Talk—What do you tell yourself every day?  What catch phrases do you use or hear?
  2. Defending Opinions—Can you think of a time when you defended your opinion?  How did you know you were right?  Why did you need to prove it?  What was the effect on the other person?  How did you feel afterward?
  3. Gossip—Write about a recent experience with gossip.  How did it make you feel?  Why did you enjoy it?  Can you think of compelling reasons to stop?  Can you think of times when gossip caused needless suffering?  What actions can you take to stop?
  4. Commitments—When you give your word, is there a big difference in your intention and your actions?  How important is it to do what you promise?

Agreement to be Impeccable with my Word

(from The Four Agreements Companion Book)

Print this agreement out if it feels important.

THIS agreement is made on ________________ for the purpose of increasing my happiness and personal freedom.  I am responsible for creating my personal dream of heaven on earth, and it begins with the power of my word.

I chose to be impeccable with my word.  I promise to honor myself, to speak with integrity, and to choose my words carefully.  I intend to use the power of my word in the direction of truth and love.  I will pay attention to how I use the word.  I will take action everyday to keep my word impeccable.  I will repeat this action until the habit is firmly established and no longer acquires my attention.

Signed:

Witness:


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