Still listening to tons of music. Still talking about God-stuff.

One of the things I said yesterday sparked another thought that I really wanted to get into, but didn�t really have the energy to tackle. I�m not saying I really have the energy today, but we�ll see.

The part that sparked?

I went outside with the intention of saying a little prayer and asking God to put His hand on the matter. He did, but using me to give voice to the words which would heal her.

Today I want to talk, briefly, about the power of the spoken word and how it has affected my life. For a long time people have known about the power of the spoken word; how saying something often makes it happen. Many people call it �tempting fate�. Some call it �affirmations�. Some people have seen the power of spoken word, but haven�t recognized it as that.

For me, this is what that power is, or means, or entails, or something. I guess I don�t have the power of the written word today. *chuckles*

The first, documented example of the power of the spoken word is from the Bible. God said, �Let there be light.� and there was light. God spoke light into being. He said the words �Let there be light�. He didn�t think the words. He didn�t sit back and just snap His fingers and bingo-bango-boom, there�s light.

I hadn�t contemplated the power of the spoken word until it was brought to my attention about a year or so ago. As I look back on my life, I see many instances where what I said, well... happened. I just figured it was coincidence. But I�m more inclined to believe that I spoke things into being.

I remember, specifically geared toward myself, saying that I wished I was dead. I remember, many, many times, being so depressed that I didn�t believe life was worth living. I remember saying life sucked.

How many of you have noticed that in your lives? If you stop to look around you, and listen for the little things you say over and over and over, would you see any connection between saying them and making them true?

I think specifically of the phrase, �life sucks�. I can�t count the number of times I�ve said that throughout my life. I mean, there were times when I�m sure I said it five, or more times in a single day.

I remember saying out loud, �I hate being married.�

I look back at my life, replaying things from the day I was married onward. I remember the first couple months being very good. I remember them being a little weird, as I had never been married before and it was a new experience, but I remember feeling happy. I remember telling my husband, many times, how much I loved him.

I remember laying in bed. He had already fallen asleep and I was sitting there, leaning up on my elbow, watching him as he slept. I remember talking to him. *chuckles* Yes, I talked to him while he was sleeping. I would tell him how proud I was of him, how special he was to me and how wonderful he was.

Don�t get me wrong, I said those things to him while he was awake too. But I liked to spend about ten minutes or so, just after he fell asleep, telling him how wonderful he was. I just knew that he could hear me. If not his conscious mind, his subconscious could. And I liked stroking his ego. I was proud of him and wanted him to know, so I told him, lots. Out loud.

And then, I just stopped doing it so often. I was bored during my day and grew tired of not having anywhere to go. In a tiny one-bedroom apartment, you can only clean so long before you�re scrubbing floors so clean you could perform open-heart surgery on them.

I remember one night when I went to bed before Duncan. I didn�t go through my nightly ritual. I was asleep first. The next night, I didn�t go through the ritual either. Then, I�d only do it when I remembered. After about a week or so of not telling him, in his sleep, how important he was to me, I stopped telling him during the day.

After a little while longer, not much, I just stopped feeling happy with him. I wasn�t satisfied anymore. He wasn�t what I wanted. And he wasn�t so special to me anymore.

I don�t know if that was just the way life is, or if I actually could have changed the outcome of things with a simple, ten minute litany before bed. I simply don�t know, but I tend to think I could have kept my own positive attitude about my husband if I had continued speaking the words.

About a year ago or so, not quite that long, Mom was talking about the power of the spoken word, about speaking things into being. Specifically saying little things like, �I ache� or �I hate my life� Things of that sort.

I remember thinking, �Well duh.� But I didn�t actually think about what she said. Or rather, I didn�t actually put it into practice in my life until about my birthday. About four months ago or so. On my birthday this past year, I decided that I was going to try some new things. Instead of telling myself how disappointed and dissatisfied I was, I started saying, consciously requiring myself to speak the words, �I�m happy. I like who and what I am. I have health and life and I love my life.�

Well... as you all, those �all� of you who have been reading me for more than two months, know, lately I have realized, with no holds barred, that I really do love who and what I am. I have traced the beginning of my true acceptance of what I am, how I look and who I am inside. It started around my birthday.

I don�t think that�s a coincidence. I just don�t think that is a coincidence. I think I spoke my satisfaction into being. I think I spoke my personal acceptance into being. I think I have created my own happiness the way I always said I could.

I remember one specific argument with Duncan. He was frustrated and confused and didn�t have the foggiest idea what was wrong with me. He wanted to help. He wanted to make me happy. He always wanted to make me happy. I wasn�t willing at that time. *smiles sadly*

Regardless, he, frustrated and short tempered, said to me, �What? What can I do? All I want is to make you happy, Jennifer.�

*smiles tenderly

I looked him in the eyes, my own dead inside, and said, �You can�t make me happy, Duncan. You can never make me happy. I�m the only one who can make me happy. I�m the only one who can create my own happiness.�

Now, nearly five years later, I realize that what I said was true. I don�t know if I made it true by saying it, but I know that now... I�m happy. I like who and what I am. I love my life so very much. I love being alive and I love the feel of the rain upon my face, cold, hard, wet, warm, whatever. I love being alive. And I�m happy. I�m so very, very happy. And Duncan wasn�t able to make me happy.

I don�t think I will ever again say that someone else can�t make me happy. I have long stated (Sympatico can vouch for this) that I can choose to be happy because someone else does something, but their actions/words can�t affect me.

I do and don�t believe that. I believe that I have the personal responsibility to act rather than react. But, sometimes, the reaction is fine and healthy. When Sympatico sent me that first CD, the one he made for me. I grinned. I was happy. I was thrilled and joyed. Sympatico made me happy.

*smiles warmly*

I suppose I have to admit that it is entirely possible for someone else to effect my life. And that I like the effect. No one can effect me negatively without my permission. I still believe that. And I speak it as I type it. But people can make me happy. People can effect me positively. And I enjoy that. I like it.

I love my life. I love being alive. I feel so thrilled and open and warm and loving and... peaceful.

I have a challenge for you. As a favor to me if nothing else. Try some small part of your life... Find one thing that you would like to see different. And start speaking it into being. Say it as if it was. Not as it could be, but as if it was.

As an example:

On your way to work, you find that you always have to park a block away. For the next month, just through various times during the day, when you�re alone is okay, just say out loud, �I always find a parking space for me really close to the door (or elevator, or building or whatever).� Just try that for a month.

Who knows, if it works, then great, you�ve got a parking place close to the door. If it doesn�t work, you�ve lost what, a couple seconds a day? I would really like to hear results.

You want another example?

Your day is cramped and chock full of things you have to do. Well, try, for a month, just saying a couple times a day, out loud. �I always have enough time. As full as my day gets, I always have time left over.�

See what happens. Maybe nothing, maybe you�ll have a few more baths, a few more quiet hours with some soft candle light, a glass of wine and a foot massage. What could it hurt?

Just let me know what happens. I�ve been doing this for about four months, a little more than, and I have noticed tremendous differences in my life. I just didn�t know they were happening until I actually stopped to look around me and realized... wait... I really DO like who and what I am.

*grins*

Try it. You might like it.

Peace unto thy hearts.