Savoring those sacred spaces

I bought my daughter her first car when she was 18. It was a sporty little black, 2004 Corolla, with a moon roof. I remember when she first saw it,

sat in it and drove it. I still have the pictures. What a priceless moment. She was ecstatic. Freedom at last!

Two years later, she was tired of the Corolla and wanted another car. The paint on her car was starting to oxidize from sitting in the sun, but it still ran perfectly. She became restless with it and wanted something different. Something alot more fun to drive. I remember what I was like at her age. I get it.

Against everyone’s better judgement, we sold the Corolla and she bought her roommate’s 1999 Mazda Miata. It was cherry red, with a stick-shift, a lousy radio, bad tires and a broken back window in the convertible top. She LOVED it!!! I took a ride with her one day with the top down. Although it drove like a Mack truck, it was cute and fun…for about 5 minutes. The stereo was so “tinny” it hurt my ears. The engine and road noise was so bad, I couldn’t hear myself think. And I love eating fumes and dirt from the freeway. Ah, the joys of being young.

Summer came and the car didn’t have A/C. The convertible top needed replacing to the tune of $450. New tires and all rims were replaced for over $700. She didn’t want to drive a stick for long distances or in heavy traffic. She started borrowing my car from time to time. She soon realized that although the car was kind of cool, she needed something better. When she announced she was buying a new car, I wasn’t surprised.

Although the car dilemma was getting old, I supported her. I mean, everyone wants their kid to have a safe, newer, more reliable and economical car to drive, right? I won’t go into the details, but I didn’t want to co-sign for the car. I wanted her to be independent and I’ll be darned, she did it. She found a way to get that new car.

It really didn’t take long for her to manifest what she wanted. She dealt with the dealers and found a new car in her price range. She had a decent downpayment. She ended up taking care of the entire process on her own, without a co-signer. I was so proud of her!

She was SO excited and truthfully, I was excited for her. At her age, I started buying new cars every 4 years. There’s nothing like the feel, smell and excitement of owning a new car. It also makes working more meaningful and it’s a great way to build credit.

The day after she sealed the deal and was waiting for the delivery of her car, I texted her this message. Today’s the big day. Feel the gratitude and juiciness of the moment between not having, anticipation and finally having. Revel in the gap between.

This concept really hit me. It’s not something we talk about very much. We get an idea of what we want. We talk, complain, get excited, brainstorm, find ways to get what we want (or keep them away). That in itself is an amazing process. How desire can drum up these brilliant manifestations. We get excited. We dream about what it will be like having it. We can’t wait for it. We can’t wait until it’s in our clutches. We can’t wait. We can’t wait.

Then it arrives!! Woohoooooo! We are overjoyed, elated, high, thrilled that we finally have it.

But did you ever notice how although we may still enjoy the newness of finally getting what we’ve wanted, after a few weeks or months, it all starts to fade? And then it becomes comfortable. We still like it and know we made a good decision. A few months down the line or a year later, we’re already thinking about how we can manifest something else.

It’s such an amazing and interesting process. How we want. How we get. How we want. How we get. And so on…

If you think about it, it’s never-ending. That’s how life is. We want to be old enough to drive and then we do. We want to be an adult. Then 18 rolls around and we have what we think is independence. Along with that comes responsibility, which we’re not so sure we want. We want a job to pay the bills and then we get one. But months later, we’re disillusioned with a job we don’t really like or we want to make more money. We can’t wait until we turn 21 so we can legally drink. We can’t wait to get married, have babies, buy a home, have grandchildren, get social security and all of a sudden, we’re at a point where it doesn’t seem like there’s much to look forward to!

So, let’s re-think this.

What if we really savored those sacred spaces that make up our physical existence?

What if when we decide we want something, we really allow ourselves to have fun with it? Instead of complaining that we don’t have it, we have to have it, we’ll die without it, how in the world can we get it, what if we could just “see” what we want? Feel the joy it would bring us. Know that having it would make us feel good or be fun. And instead of feeling guilty about wanting it or allowing others to tell us why we can’t or shouldn’t have it, know that it’s normal to want and have things. We came here to be deliberate manifesters. We came here to experience all things. We came here with the ability to create and have everything within us to do this.

So what if we just felt the juiciness of the process? Allowed spirit and Divine timing to play out, knowing it was coming? What if we believed it was easy to create?

And let’s take it one step further. Once we’ve picked it out, found a way to pay for it and lined everything up, what if we could savor the in between?

Most of us get excited for a brief moment. But that usually gives way to anticipation which turns into anxiety. Some of us go into the suffering mode (if I have to wait one more minute or day, I’m gonna go crazy!). And some of us are so good at manifesting, we allow our impatience and suffering to shut down the process of our having whatever it is, altogether. How many house or car deals go south? How many new jobs fall through? How many raises never materialize? How many engagements get broken?

What if we could just allow ourselves to be still in each step of the process? Savor – the quality that makes something interesting or enjoyable. Or even deeper or further than that. How about cherishing or treasuring each moment? You know how we talk about staying in the present? This is the perfect example of how we can add quality, excellence, value, texture, color, richness, joy, love and “time” to our lives. We can also add more of what we want by practicing gratitude for every experience.

When we’re waiting on the arrival of something anticipated, we can practice the power of presencing (savoring) the feelings between waiting and receiving. When we understand that “having” brings the intial and usually short-lived feelings of excitement and joy, then we can begin to absolutely revel in the magical moments leading up to the having of it.

Practice this today. If you’re in the process of waiting to receive something you’ve wanted and worked toward, deliberately practice gratitude for the deliciousness (a word Abraham uses frequently) of the waiting period. I hope you don’t mind me being candid here but I have to use this analogy. It's like the moment before the great climax. Love-making is actually the most amazing example of being present as any I can think of. I guess some people rush to the finish but if we’re really connected to anothers’ essence, the moments in between arousal and climax are sensational. There’s somewhat of an anticipation. However, if you had the stamina to linger with it, you could stay in the supernatural and deeply pleasurable moments in between, for hours!

Although there’s nothing sexy about buying a house, car or getting the job you’ve always wanted, you can still find and linger in those deeply grateful, pleasurable and anticipatory states that present themselves in the gaps between wanting, waiting and having. I promise you.

So, let's get into the actual state of living and being. Remember, lingering in the past creates depression. Projecting into the future brings anxiety. Be where you are in every given moment. That’s where the joy, inspiration and juiciness lies. In “being with,” feeling, experiencing every amazing second you’re alive. Practicing patience. Practicing faith and trust. Just savoring those massively sacred spaces in between.

Try it. You’ll like it.