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Lesson Three:
Why aren't my dreams here yet?
Patience may be a virtue, but it’s impossible to be patient while you’re waiting for your dreams to arrive. Have you noticed? Desire makes you go after your dreams, and it doesn’t let up even when your dreams fail to arrive. It just turns into impatience. You tell yourself to be patient, but desire always butts its way back in. Soon, you’re on a road that goes back and forth between patience and impatience (and that doesn’t go anywhere else). It’s the road to failure, because while you’re on it you can’t make straightforward progress toward your dreams. Bob and I knew we’d have to stay off this road if we wanted to let our dreams pay the bills, and we did. But, we didn’t do it by learning how to become more patient. We learned how to make our dreams arrive faster.
An important $4,500 check we were expecting had not arrived. It was Bob’s first royalty check, and we had been eagerly awaiting its appearance. The envelope finally came, but it did not contain a check. Instead, it contained a royalty statement that said Bob owed his publisher $7,400. Not so! Bob had sold over five thousand copies of his book to a golf book distributor, by himself, without his publisher’s help. The royalties due from that sale were more than enough to pay back Bob’s advance and earn additional royalties.
Bob called his publisher. His publisher refused to pay, and the refusal triggered a financial crisis. We weren’t going to be able to pay our next month’s rent. We had to get jobs. Our dream of a writing life was over.
"I’ll take a sales job," Bob said. "I’ll write nights."
"No."
"Honey, we have no choice. We have to pay the rent in two weeks. We don’t have the money. We can’t get credit. We can’t afford a lawyer. We have nothing of value left to sell. You have to face it. It’s over."
"It’s not over," and I began to cry. "We can’t give up. If you take a job, you’ll never write your books. You’re not someone who can give less than a hundred percent to a job. You’ll come home too tired to write. You’ll want to play golf on weekends to get away from all the pressure, just like everyone else. Your books will never get written. You know it’s true."
"Do you have any answers?" Bob snapped, "because I sure don’t." He was very angry and I understood why. He was caught in a no-win position. His first book was a success, but his publisher was (unfairly) reaping the financial rewards. He’d have to go to court to get his share, but he couldn’t afford an attorney. His second book wasn’t finished, and he couldn’t sell it for another advance. If he took a full-time job, he wouldn’t have time to write. How could anyone be expected to overcome odds like these?
"I’ll get the job," I said. "Your books are further along than mine."
Bob was silent, and he cleared his throat before he spoke. "Mary Anne, you don’t have enough stamina for a job," he said gently.
It was true, but I hadn’t wanted to admit it. Jeffrey’s death had left me physically weak. I was still a grieving mother and perhaps always would be. Four hours of writing, editing and household chores left me exhausted each day.
"Then we’ll have to rely on my manifestation skills," I said.
"Are you nuts?" Bob finally blew up.
"I’ve gotten better and better at it," I countered. "I really think I can do this. My body’s worn out, but my mind isn’t."
"Mary Anne," Bob said softly, "I’m not going to entrust my family’s income to sources I can’t see. I’m not saying I don’t believe in you. I do. But, honey, do you realize what you’re asking me to do?"
I did. I was asking my husband (and myself) to believe in the work I was developing about the miracle of manifestation. I was asking us to put so much faith on the line that we believed our rent would be paid, that we wouldn’t starve, that the electricity wouldn’t be turned off, and that our dreams really would come true.
"It’s time," I said, "to find out."
I took out my workbook and wrote down (in a shaky hand) our goals. "I want to keep writing. I want the rent to be paid. I don’t want Bob to have to get a job. I want him to continue writing his wonderful golf books. I want him by my side. I need him."
Then, I went for a walk. Bob and I were living in Savannah, Georgia, at the time. Near our home was a beautiful park, filled with historic fountains and old, moss-covered trees. It seemed like a sacred place to us; and we headed there, frightened about our decisions, eager to have the comfort we always found in each other’s company.
On the way to the park, we stumbled upon four pennies. They were all tails up.
"Do you think this is a sign?" Bob laughed.
"I do," I said, and smiled.
"Well, we can’t live on pennies!" Bob suddenly exploded. When I heard the pain in his voice, I realized how precarious our situation was. I realized something else too: there were lots of other people in the same boat. No one can live on pennies; or false hope; or having to work full-time when their hearts want to create books, paintings, music, and solutions to mankind’s problems. What were we all going to do?
"I’m going to solve the problem of lack," I said in a voice stronger than I felt.
"How are you going to do that?" Bob asked.
"I have an idea."
Bob smiled, his anger gone. "You’ve been keeping this idea to yourself?" he said, teasing me.
"Well," I grinned, "I wasn’t sure it was powerful enough."
Bob raised his eyebrows. "We don’t have another choice now; do we?"
"You might laugh," I said. "It’s a puny idea."
Bob took my hand and pulled me toward home. "Come on. Let’s give your puny idea a try," he said. "I can always get a job next week."
Your third exercise:
The Good News Board
The exercise we used is a deceptively simple one, but you’ll feel its power right away to:
1) Focus your feelings away from lack
2) Cut down on stress
3) Make you feel hopeful and encouraged
4) Keep your momentum going, until all of your dreams come true
Buy a dry erase board, or post a large, blank sheet of paper on a wall. Use brightly-colored markers (so that your writing can be seen a few feet away), and start listing the things that happen to you each day that you "like." It’s your personal "good news" list, and you’ll be surprised by how much you have to list each day. While you were traveling between patience and impatience, good things were happening! With your Good News Board, you’ll now be able to see your good news; and it will fill your heart with hope.
Did we get the money to pay the rent? Yes. As soon as we hung up our Good News Board and began listing the things we "liked," we remembered an idea for a follow-up book to Bob’s first one. We called a publisher about it the next day. He made us an offer. Since he was a small publisher, he was able to cut us a check right away. It saved our writing life.
Post things to your Good News Board at the beginning of your 15-minute daily exercise slot each day (and then continue your session with the exercise you learned in last month’s lesson).
Mary Anne’s tips:
1) Should you include pennies on your Good News Board? It’s a question everyone asks that means: "Should I appreciate everything that happens to me?" The answer is no. Include only the things that you "like," things that truly seem like good news to you.
© Copyright 2001, Mary Anne Thomas. All rights reserved.
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