222 Foundation – Page 3

Your body is eavesdropping on everything you say

September 19, 2019 30 Comments

“Being a mother means a love that’s deeper than anything you can imagine. The love is beyond Earth and beyond time and space, and it’s a connection that will be constant.”—Beyoncé

I knew Beyoncé, like me, is a Course in Miracles fan, but who knew she would also put into words the very thing I feel about being a mom?

Nothing in my life has compared or will ever compare to the experience of being Taz’s mom.

Her legacy is still my most important commitment. The 222 Foundation that honors her vision (Create relentlessly, love fiercely and do quiet, kind things for the underdog) means everything to me.

The picture on this post was featured on the Sunday front page of the Topeka Capital-Journal after Taz and I created this book (she drew the front cover) on recycled grocery bags for Earth Day 2002. She was 9.

Because I’m focusing on her Foundation and my new Course in Miracles book (that comes out in January) and because I’m heading out of town tomorrow for my first travel assignment in more than a year, I am choosing to run an email that came in yesterday that truly MADE. MY. DAY.

E-Squared featured the Jenny Craig experiment about changing your thoughts about your body. And the Course is very clear that it is our mind, not our body, that steers the ship.

This beautiful email from Kelly sum it up quite nicely:

“I decided to write because I’ve now consumed three of your books, starting with Thank and Grow Rich and then both E-Squared and E-Cubed. I wanted to share a personal observation of anecdotal evidence around weight loss.

“My body is what gives me the hard proof that law of attraction principles are real and absolute. I discovered this long before I discovered your books, so wanted to tag a thought on to the experiment you offered around blessing our food.

“Not only do I bless my food – I bless my body. I think you mentioned in one of your books that our bodies have around 30 trillion cells. I have a daily ritual where I look in the mirror and say “I love you! You’re SO beautiful! Thank you!” and then I hug myself and I talk to my body and all its cells like I talk to my cute little beloved cat “I love you SO much. Thank you, body! I love every single cell inside you! Thank you, cells! I love you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“I started doing this when I realized that each of us is basically our own personal universe with all these amazing cells. Essentially, we (what we speak, what we believe) act as “god” (or creator) to those cells.

“When I first started this practice many years ago, the excess weight I’d been carrying around melted off. I’d have people asking me what I was doing, and I’d give them the utterly confusing answer “I’m just loving myself.” I know that’s not what they wanted to hear. They wanted to hear “60 minutes of cardio every day followed by juice fasts and eating only cabbage!” Because it’s just too hard to believe that loving yourself can produce those kinds of results.”

Thank you, Kelly, for reminding us that loving ourselves DOES produce those kinds of results.

And thank you for sending the following song that, like you said, gets my happiness vibes going.

Pam Grout is the author of 20 books including E-Squared, E-Cubed, Thank & Grow Rich and her latest book, The Course in Miracles Experiment: A Starter Kit for Rewiring Your Mind (And Therefore Your World).

What if there is no bad guy?

September 10, 2019 46 Comments

“One sees things from only one angle, a partial view, which is bound to be distorted; and yet one accepts this view as the full truth.”– S.N. Goenka

A Course in Miracles turns every certainty on its head.

It promises peace of mind. It says that’s my natural state.

It says “good” and “evil” are useless concepts, simplifying and reducing everything to right and wrong, black and white, winners and losers.

It says I even employ this “war mentality” against myself. I go to battle with my own inner enemies—say laziness or procrastination or a compulsion to eat whole cartons of cookie dough ice cream. Invariably, my default response is: identify and vanquish all inner bad guys.

The Course says “There are no bad guys. There are no enemies.”

Instead of working so hard to find and unseat evildoers, it asks me to question the reality of my problems.

Anybody or anything I cast as an enemy is part of myself. I am not a separate individual. I am intimately related to everyone and everything else.

Waging war only creates the conditions for more war. It leads to revenge, defeat and more acrimony. If I bomb terrorists, I create conditions for more terror. If I lock up criminals, I destroy communities and breed more crime. If I despise my body, I create stress hormones that cause more reasons to despise my body.

The Course offers a massive deprogramming. It reprograms my mind’s natural tendency to condemn, judge and wage war into acceptance, forgiveness and the recognition that what’s out there starts in here.

The ego mind, of course wants to know how all this is going to happen.

What’s the plan? It likes to ask.

But the Course says that’s just one more misdiagnosis, another subtle war game of exerting force.

The Course says I don’t have enough information, let alone force to outplay my demons. The best tactic is always trust in a higher intelligence. In fact, the less I plan, the less I do, the better.

I don’t have to know how anything is going to happen. I just have to give up the fight.

On a personal note, I should let you know I’m preparing a bunch of goodies for anyone who preorders my Course in Miracles book that makes it debut in January 2020. I’m also actively reviewing pitches for 2020’s 222 award. Thanks to all who have sent proposals. I hope you’ll continue to help me spread the word.

Have a wonderful Tuesday, my friends!

Pam Grout is the author of 19 books including E-Squared, E-Cubed, Thank & Grow Rich and her latest book, Art & Soul,Reloaded: A Year-Long Apprenticeship to Summon the Muses and Ignite Your Daring, Audacious, Creative Side.

I want to give money away: Now taking pitches for the 2020 award of the 222 Foundation

August 27, 2019 24 Comments

“What reality was ever created by realists? What we cannot dream we can never do.”—Richard Flanagan

So, I started a foundation to honor my daughter, Tasman Mckay Grout, who died suddenly and unexpectedly in 2018 of a cerebral aneurysm.

As I’ve written before, Taz’s 25 years were pure magic. She landed here on planet earth with indiscriminate and generous love. She was beautiful, brilliant. Wild light coursed through her every cell.

To honor her legacy, the 222 Foundation is committed to rewriting the dream of the modern world from consumption and acquisition to the dream of creativity and self-expression. We believe the pursuit of happiness comes from human solidarity, simple living, respect for nature and the empowerment of all people. Our mission is to reallocate the world’s resources away from fear and towards love.

Here are the guidelines (as printed on the sunflower packets we distributed at Taz’s Celebration of Life):

Each year on February 22 (2/22), Taz Grout’s 222 Foundation will award a $10,222 grant to an innovative project or person with a big idea to change consciousness and therefore the world.

We look for projects that support the following ideas:

1. All people long to be generous and create beautiful things.

2. The story of scarcity, lack and the need to fight for resources was made up and is no longer valid. We aim to prove that, once liberated from outdated paradigms, the world is generative and endlessly abundant.

3. We believe all humans are interconnected and that even tiny actions have great significance.

Any and all projects that supports Taz’s vision will be considered. Here are a few that have recently caught my eye:

**The El Paso challenge. Started by 11-year-old Ruben, this social media phenomenon encourages people to do 22 kind things in honor of each of the 22 people who died in the recent shooting.

**Koolulam. This incredible initiative creates mass singing events, bringing large groups of strangers together to sing as one big human ensemble. I ran into a YouTube (check it out below) of 3000 strangers in Haifa, Israel singing One Day.

**Grupo Ecológico. Started by one family, this locally-managed Biosphere Reserve in Mexico’s Sierra Gorda empowers local farmers and teaches permaculture.

These are just a few examples of the kinds of projects we seek. The more creative, the better. We want nothing more than to generate new possibilities and shake up the world as we know it.

I hope you, my friends here on the blog, will help spread the word.

If you or anyone you know would like to apply for next year’s grant, please send a description of the project to taz.grout.222.foundation@gmail.com. Applications will be accepted through December 31, 2019.

And, as always, thank you, thank you, thank you!!

Want to change the world? Nurture a beautiful inner state

August 3, 2019 82 Comments

“At any given moment, we can leave the self-enclosed world of our thought and touch down in the present moment.”—Terry Cochran

“I don’t know how you do it.”

When you lose a child, you hear that a lot. It’s unthinkable, to lose the precious being who grew in your womb, nursed at your breast and became a brilliant, kind, imaginative person right before your very eyes.

So I have no idea HOW I do it. It, I presume, means to go on.

But I do know WHY I do it. I go on because, for whatever reason, I’m still here. I’m still part of this material world of physical bodies which means I still have some purpose.

Taz, who I still communicate with on the daily, seems to think my new path has something to do with proving it’s unnecessary to suffer. If anyone has an excuse to suffer, it’s a parent who lost their only child.

But as she points out, suffering only isolates me from the whole of humanity. It disconnects me from the life force, like a cell phone that’s too far from a transmission tower.

Mom, she says, you, of all people, know the importance of nurturing a grateful inner state, a frequency that, when tuned in, radios in guidance, connection, joy and love.

Your inner state impacts every area of your life—your health, your career, your relationships, especially your relationships with universal consciousness and loved ones who exist in other dimensions.

Suffering, she says, is like a cancer. It cuts you off from all the healthy cells, it divests you of connection with your brothers and sisters. A suffering mind is so obsessed with its own negative thoughts that it misses practically everything.

Habitual suffering, she says, is all too common in this material world. But, as she points out, it’s nothing but a bad habit. People seem to think suffering is necessary, that it helps them grow, that it can be good for them.

Balderdash, Taz insists. All suffering does is cut you off from life. She said I owe it to my fellows (and indeed to her) to nourish a positive inner state.

She compared human’s oneness and connection to a grove of aspens. They may look like a bunch of separate trees, but a mountainside of aspens is actually a singular organism with a life force connected in an extensive root system. If I don’t nurture a giving, loving inner state, I could poison the whole grove.

Grief is one thing. Suffering is another.

“Mom,” she says, “You always claim you want to make a difference. So let me remind you. Give up unnecessary suffering. Dedicate yourself to creating a beautiful inner state. It doesn’t take long—a few minutes in the morning. And voila! You truly can change the world.”

Thank you, Taz, I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Love, only love, Pam

A broader perspective is our greatest need

July 26, 2019 50 Comments

“You must unlearn what you have learned.”—Yoda

A FB memory from two years ago popped up this morning of Taz and me in a photo booth in Stockholm, Sweden.

It made me happy to see the two of us clowning around, being goofy.

Taz and I had a lot of silly rituals. We watched every episode of “Gilmore Girls” together and our favorite character was the eccentric Kirk Gleason who, over the course of seven seasons, worked as everything from a bath mat salesman to a termite exterminator to a parachute jumper. We regularly sent each other pictures of Kirk, in all his glory. We called it “The Daily Kirk.”

On the first of every month, whichever of us proclaimed “Hedgehog” first, was guaranteed a lucky month. It started when she was in grade school, but even in college we’d text each other the simple phrase. Since she stayed up late, as college students do, she always prevailed at 12:01 on the dot. When she lived in Europe after college, 12:01 came several hours before I even qualified for our little game.

Someone emailed the other day, inquiring about page 92 in E-Squared. I told the story of baby Taz’s high fever, me being frantic with worry and hearing a voice with startling clarity: “I didn’t give you this great gift just to take it away.”

This reader wanted to know what happened.

I, too, sometimes wonder. But, in my better moments, I echo what Julia Roberts told an interviewer who asked if she regretted never having an adult relationship with her father who died of throat cancer when she was 11 or 12. She replied, “Are you kidding me? He’s with me all the time.”

On the first day of the last three months, Taz has sent me a hedgehog. On May 1, it came in the form of a news clip about British rocker Peter Doherty who was temporarily hospitalized after being stabbed with a…hedgehog spike.

On June 1, the word “hedgehog” came in as a text message…from (don’t ask me how?) Taz’s phone.

July 1, I was at the toy store buying a birthday gift for my friend’s one-year-old grandbaby. I asked the clerk what was the hottest new toy for a one-year-old. Without hesitating, she took me straight to a stacking hedgehog pull toy.

So, as I told the reader who emailed me, “Taz hasn’t been taken away. She’s still very much here, albeit in a different form.

Taz now has the broader perspective I so desire and, like Yoda, she’s teaching me to unlearn everything I know.

So, my fine-feathered friends, I’ll say it once again: Go out now and have the very best weekend of your lives.

Don’t forget to show love

July 16, 2019 59 Comments

“Do things for people not because of who they are or what they do in return, but because of who you are.” –Harold Kushner

I figure I have a choice. I can either read the political news which is the equivalent of dumping toxic sludge into my brain. Or I can read about superheroes like 5-year-old Austin Perine who started his caped crusade when he was only 4.

For an entire year, this mini superhero has literally put on a red cape and passed out chicken sandwiches at a homeless shelter in Birmingham, Alabama.

He started with his weekly allowance, but then Burger King got wind of his campaign and decided to pony up another $1000 worth of sandwiches. Steve Harvey threw in another $5 grand and before he knew it, little Austin was traveling to shelters all over the country.

Although Austin’s story has been making the rounds for about a year, I just learned about him. I particularly like the fact that he zooms by (like the superhero he is), tossing sandwiches and shouting, “Don’t forget to show love.”

It’s stories like Austin’s that the 222 Foundation is looking to support. And I am so glad that, in the next few months, I’ll be feeding my own soul with news like Austin’s.

Thanks, everybody, for showing so much love.

Back to the Mothership

July 15, 2019 132 Comments

“Say yes to revealing an unseen energy that surrounds us, that we’re actually a part of. Our soul yearns to witness and experience this nonphysical energy, not only for us to fully heal, but also to make the absolute most of our lives.”—Christina Rasmussen

In my ongoing efforts to figure my life out (now that I’m a childless mother), I have concluded that, above all else, I need to write, to create. When I don’t, I tend to get cranky. You’d think I’d have mastered this daily ritual by now. After all, I wrote a whole book about it. Ever since second grade, when I wrote and illustrated “Paddy the Penguin,” I’ve known creativity is the thing that makes me feel most alive.

Even in the depths of my grief, I felt better when I wrote—whether a letter to Taz, a blog post or the book that comes out beginning of next year. So, I’m making a commitment to myself (and to those of you who have kindly put your trust in me) to resume a more consistent blogging schedule. As you can imagine, I have a few things I need to say.

I’ve been on a pretty intense journey the past nine months as I attempt to move beyond the physical realm, to connect to that bigger thing that feeds my creativity, that keeps me in sync with Taz, that offers a deep well of healing and peace. In the interest of transparency, you should probably know that some days I still struggle to hoist myself out of bed.

Luckily, Taz keeps sending signs and, among other things, she and a wonderful medium named Steffany Barton and I are toying with the idea of teaming up to write a book. And the 222 Foundation is steaming full speed ahead. Look for the Call for Proposals for the 2020 grant to be announced soon.

The amazingly awesome Karen Drucker has offered to sing a benefit concert for the 222 Foundation. My new friend Sigrid Drobner keeps painting weekly flowers with 3-D butterflies to auction off for the Foundation.

I have also gotten a lot of sustenance from all of you—book suggestions, postcards from the Camino de Santiago, sweet emails. Please know I value each and every one.

I was bragging to the Hay House marketing team this morning about all the music suggestions you sent. At last count, I’ve received more than 400 happy songs. All I had to do was ask. The team requested that I ask another favor. They want me to inquire about your favorite podcasts. Which podcasts do you like best, listen to most often? Let me know in the comments below.

Thank you again from the bottom of my patched-up heart. I love you and always will.

More is being offered

June 22, 2019 28 Comments

“If I’m not careful, I freeze myself with certain descriptions of myself. And then I’m forced to play out some storyline that was true twenty years ago but might not be true today.”—Josh Radnor

Muchas gracias, mis amigos! I’ve been busy dancing to all your uplifting song suggestions. I can’t thank you enough. Once again, “Ask and ye shall receive” proves unequivocally true.

Not to give too much away, but I’m using many of your song suggestions in the new Course in Miracles book, still slated to makes its debut in early 2020.

One of the Course’s main themes is that SO MUCH MORE is being offered. Life offers so much more love, joy, intimacy and freedom than that which most of us avail ourselves. Every minute teems with countless gifts that get blocked with mindless thinking.

My focus now is THE MORE. I find when I zoom out, I leave behind myopic beliefs that I’m nothing but a body and that Taz is no longer here. I find comfort knowing we’ll have an infinite amount of time together in eternity and that this life is but a blip.

This current incarnation is is but one chess piece on the larger phenomenon of me. I love knowing our souls will all meet up again in other lifetimes, other cities, other fields.

The TV series I’m working on also addresses THE MORE. The characters who live at Milagro Springs, my fictional ecovillage, find the more so often blocked by societal expectations.

It’s like the question often asked by readers of my National Geographic books on meaningful vacations.

“How is it,” they want to know. “That these people in other countries who have nothing are so happy. It makes no sense.”

The answer is they “don’t have nothing.” They have the SO MUCH MORE that gets crowded out in our mindless search for more things, bigger houses, fancier cars.

Communal societies enjoy things like MORE time. MORE recognition of their profound connections with each other. MORE fun. MORE love.

That’s THE MORE we’re promoting with the 222 Foundation. Call for entries for the 2020 award will be announced soon. Thank you guys for joining me on this journey. I love you all to the ZOOMED-out-cosmos and back.

When life pitches a curveball

May 19, 2019 93 Comments

“Love is a mighty force, capable of raising us to the very pinnacle of being and into its darkest abyss.”—Andrew Anthony 1ab222

I’m flying home from Virginia Beach this afternoon. I just gave a workshop on my book, Living Big, at Edgar Cayce’s Association for Research and Enlightenment.

It’s a truly magical place. The sand on the beach contains healing crystals and every fourth person, it seems, is either a psychic or a medium. It’s the perfect destination for a mom whose current passion is keeping her own spirit alive along with the spirit of her daughter.

The elephant-in-the-room question came up during the workshop. How do you cope with the massive rip in your understanding of the universe? I’m the writer, after all, who regularly blogged about being the luckiest person on the planet.

I’m not sure I gave a very good answer. Losing your only child is brutal terrain. But I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

And I’ve concluded that I use many of the techniques I write about in my books and on this blog.

1. I use the two magic words. It’s okay. It’s okay to be tormented with overwhelming emotions, to wonder what she’d be doing if she were still alive. It’s okay to sob uncontrollably, to stay in bed after the sun rises. It’s okay to question whether life is still worth living. It’s okay to feel any emotion that happens to show its face.

2. I practice gratitude. I mean, I got to spend 25 years with this incredible being of light and love. I was a 37-year-old singleton with no real prospects in sight when she chose to hang out with me. Literally, she was a life-changing gift–the most amazing, the most compassionate, the wisest person I ever met. I also appreciate the fact I never had to struggle with issues many parents face: drug addiction, mental illness, etc. Taz was brilliant. She was kind. She was perfect.

Another upside of navigating the chasm in my life is that it puts life’s petty annoyances into perspective.

3. I choose thoughts that make me feel better. Thoughts that don’t feel good, thoughts that suck the big one go like this:

This isn’t fair.
I’ll never be a grandparent.
She won’t get to experience so many important life events (weddings, kids)

Believe me, those thoughts vie for my attention.

But, as I preach in my books and workshops, I get to choose which thoughts to animate into my life. And I’ve learned from personal experience that I am much happier and more hopeful when I focus on enduring connection, on life being bigger than this little flesh suit, on the idea that she’s still right here, as present as she ever was.

When I look through my 38 photo albums (yes, I was a proud momma), it’s easy to recognize life’s changing physicality. Even before she had the aneurysm, it was obvious Taz was no longer the darling five-year-old starting kindergarten with her flowered dress and her pink backpack. She was no longer the seven-year-old in the Bahamas with the parrot on her shoulder. She was no longer the 21-year-old standing among the ruins of Machu Pichu.

Now, instead of a body frozen into one reality, Taz is unfettered and free, joyfully dancing throughout the cosmos.

And there’s no reason (except my stubbornnes) that she and I can’t continue to communicate. The other day, I got an intuitive hit to run my car radio’s scan function. I use it when I’m traveling, but I was driving the familiar streets of my hometown. I know the local stations. I chose my favorites long ago. Why would I run a scan?

The first hit was a twangy country and western melody. Then I got some preacher railing about abortion or something. And then I got a “station” clearly broadcasting a familiar voice. There was no mistaking Taz uttering two words that always made my heart sing, “Hi mom!” It so floored me that my frantic efforts to stop the scan were in vain.

Call me delusional, appoint me mayor of crazy town (as my friend, Anita Moorjani says, Whenever someone suggests such a thing, she almost falls off her unicorn), but I choose to believe these happier thoughts. And I am remain grateful for all beautiful reminders that life is bigger and grander and more wildly miraculous than I will ever understand.

No such thing as separation

April 4, 2019 49 Comments

“Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us all without words?” –Marcel Marceau

Happy Thursday, dear ones!

My Course in Miracles book comes back from the editor tomorrow so I’ll likely be busy with rewrites. In the meantime, I wanted to send a quick update. And also share the wonderful latte designs from my favorite coffee shop.

As always, “shout outs” for all your kind notes, your donations to the 222 Foundation, your beautiful emails. I am so grateful for every one of you.

California was cool—both metaphorically and weather-wise. After giving my Sacramento workshop, I flew to southern California to hang out with my friend, Anita Morjani, who as readers of her books know, has an inspiring take on “the other side.” I also met with two other moms who have lost kids. We’re all in agreement that now’s the time to build a bridge. In reality, there is no “other side”—there’s just eternal life. All references to “other” are provisional, illusionary and just not true.

Taz’s bio dad, who used to own a winery in New Zealand, had a very clear vision of Taz welcoming the 50 from the Christchurch mosque. Coincidentally (or not) she had recently gotten her New Zealand passport and spoke Arabic.

I love getting all these signs that life is eternal and constantly working behind the scenes in ways that are far beyond my comprehension.

Because I’ve been M.I.A., I decided to resume one of the regular features on this blog—sharing stories from my inbox. Enjoy, my friends!

“Just got your book E Squared. First experiment got me thinking about way more blessings than I realized I had.

“Second experiment was crazy. Said to the FP, “let’s see orange cars today.” Well, my drive to work was uneventful. I was trying to see orange cars but I didn’t see any. However, I was listening to your Ted Talk where you mentioned singing “I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener”.

I arrived at my office and I parked behind a “copper” colored car. Now in my mind, I convinced myself that it was orange. I thought to myself, “Okay, here we go”. I walked in and sat at my desk. I turned and looked out the window and there it was. The ultimate “Orange Car”. The Oscar Meyer Wiener Mobile was parked in my parking lot. Now you can’t get more orange than that. I laughed and thought of your Ted Talk where you mentioned Oscar Meyer Wieners.

On my drive home I saw around five more orange cars.

Thanks Pam, can’t wait for experiment #3.”

coffee2 Thank you, Mark, and thank you to all of you for holding the vision for a kinder, more beautiful, more meaningful world. I love you all!