Academy Awards – Pam Grout

Changing my world one thought at a time

September 4, 2018 31 Comments

“I encourage everybody to open their ears and their eyes and especially their minds, wide.”—Christoph Waltz
django

Christoph Waltz won the Oscar, the Golden Globe and the BAFTA for his portrayal of King Schultz, a dentist turned bounty hunter in Django Unchained.

During pre-production, however, he was bucked off a horse and sent to the hospital with a dislocated pelvis.

Some people might have thrown in the towel. But not Waltz who claimed total responsibility.

“I hadn’t ridden a horse for 40 years. It’s a skill like playing an instrument. You have to do it every day,” he said

And that’s the perfect description of how we ACIM students “change our minds and therefore change our world.”

Here’s my daily practice:

Instead of focusing on “what I see,” I focus on “what I want.” Over and over and over again. Yes, I get bucked off the horse. Yes, I hit the ground of apparent problems, dislocate the pelvis of limitations. But I just keep climbing back into that saddle and focusing on what I want to be true.

Left to its own devices, the human mind is quick to jump to conclusions, leap towards fear and cower in the face of possibilities. That’s why I’ve made “training my mind” priority numero uno. On a daily basis, I instruct it to look for beauty. Encourage it to seek out the bigger picture, to focus on the love and the seemingly impossible.

Yes, it’s an incorrigible slacker. Keeps returning to familiar old ruts. Keeps listening to the spin doctor that looks at the world as a potentially scary place. Insists on focusing on the “information” from my five senses, from the news media, from the default setting that says, “Be careful. Worry. Don’t even think about learning to trust.”

So I just keep getting back up in the saddle, directing my mind to focus on what I know to be Truth.

People often ask me, “How is that even possible?” when the “what you see” looms so large in your mind.

And all I can say is it’s the same as the answer to the old joke, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?”

Practice, practice, practice.

Or, if you’re Quentin Tarantino, the director of Django Unchained, you take your character off the horse that caused the accident in the first place.

When the Oscar-winning director went to visit Waltz in the hospital, found out he couldn’t ride a horse for three months, he wisely said, “You know if you don’t talk much about it, I might get some interesting ideas.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Waltz’s character spends most of the movie riding around in a horse-drawn buggy with a giant tooth swinging from its hinges.

So, quit talking about the “world as it seems,” get back up in that horse-drawn carriage and use your imagination to take you all the way to a happier, more beautiful reality.

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.

Putting on my big girl panties

January 24, 2018 32 Comments

“Argue for your limitations, and sure enough they’re yours.” – Richard Bach
12hide
When I was a kid, I loved playing hide-and-go-seek. One of us would be “it” and the rest of us would hide in mom’s closet, underneath the coffee table or, if we were playing outside, behind the neighbor’s shed.

The whole point was to find someone who wasn’t really missing. One exuberant “olly-olly-oxen-free” was all it took to reunite all the players.

ACIM Lesson 24 contends: I do not perceive my own best interests.

The world we perceive is like a game of hide-and-go-seek. We think we’re here to find all the things that are missing.

We think our best interest is to spend our lives looking for problems and devising plans to make them right. We think our best interest is to follow seven steps to financial freedom or three steps to being highly effective or to mastering the perfect bod.

In other words, we perceive problems, limitations, things that need fixing.

But what if our best interest is to recognize that nothing is missing? To admit that it only appears missing because we spend our time looking for it.

When I say, “I want this,” it makes the assumption I don’t already have it.

When I say, I need to be healthier or more spiritual, I embark on a journey to find the very things that are already my birthright.

It is only my decision to seek something that makes me perceive that it’s concealed.

Course in Miracles reminds us that we already have all the love, all the abundance, all the joy we need. And at any time, we can quit playing pretend and just say “thank you!”

As Robert Scheinfield says, “We are all quantum special effects animators.

I can pretend to be lacking. Profess the need to be skinnier. Or wealthier. Or shacking up with Mr. Right.

Or I can acknowledge that I’m the one who made the obstacle course. And call olly-olly-oxen-free.

And with that I’ll end with this excerpt from E-Cubed:

Peter Jackson was paid $20 million for the script of King Kong.

You’re not getting paid to create drama, so methinks it’s time to write a different script.

Here’s how:

1.Give yourself an Academy Award for the amazing “drama” you’ve created thus far. In a world that brims with beauty and plenitude, the fact that you have been able to create such a convincing “story” of lack and struggle is truly an accomplishment. The special effects you have employed to overlook the world’s unending largesse are truly mind-bending. Take a bow and ask yourself, “If I have been this successful at creating separation and pain (and believe me, we’re all worthy of gold medals), then what else might I create with a little imagination?”

2. Use the feeling for rocket fuel. Once you get it that everything is your creation, you can use that intense feeling to propel you into a different story. The only reason you’re still starring in the same, worn-out show (it should have been canceled in 1998 when Seinfeld went off the air) is because you’ve pitched a tent. You’ve completely forgotten that there are lots of other destinations on the map. Because you endlessly harp about where you are and what’s going wrong, you’ve driven in the stakes. At any time, you can move to a different location, a different story, a different reality.

3. Zip it up. You may not like the site of your present tent, but there is no need to tell the world about it. No matter where you’re camped, there are blessings and miracles nearby. Instead of bellyaching about the script, the campsite, the life you’re currently experiencing, focus in on everything that’s going right. Once you begin to use your laser superpowers for possibilities, miracles, and joy, you will suddenly find yourself on a whole new stage, accepting a whole new Oscar.

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

Lack is a mirage. The three best strategies for getting to the holy land.

September 26, 2013 21 Comments

“Avail yourself of possibilities.”—Mike Dooley

Peter Jackson was paid $20 million for the script of King Kong. You’re not getting paid to create drama, so methinks it’s time to write a different script. Here’s how:

1. Give yourself an Academy Award for the amazing “drama” you’ve created thus far. In a world that brims with beauty and plentitude, the fact that you have been able to create such a convincing “story” of lack and struggle is truly an accomplishment. The special effects you have employed to overlook the world’s unending largesse are truly mind-bending. Take a bow and ask yourself, “If I have been this successful at creating separation and pain (and believe me, we’re all worthy of gold medals) what else might I create with a little imagination?”

2. Use the feeling for rocket fuel. Once you get it that everything is your creation, you can use the emotions, the intense feeling to propel you into a different story. The only reason you’re still starring in the same, worn-out show (it should have been cancelled in 1989 when Seinfield went off the air) is because you’ve pitched a tent. You’ve completely forgotten that there are lots of other destinations on the map. Because you endlessly harp about “where you are” and “what’s going wrong,” you’ve driven in the stakes. At any time, you can move to a different location, a different story, a different reality.

3. Zip it up. With our words, we prophesy the future. You may not like the site of your present tent, but there is no need to tell the world about it. Use your words (do I sound like a parent or what?) to tell a more pleasing story. No matter where you’re camped, there are blessings and miracles nearby. Instead of belly-aching about the script, the campsite, the life you’re currently experiencing, focus in on everything that’s going right. Use your words to vocalize that. Once you begin to use your laser superpowers for possibilities, miracles and joy, you will suddenly find yourself on a whole new stage, accepting a whole new Oscar.

Pam Grout is the author of 16 books including E-Squared: 9 Do-it-Yourself Energy Experiments that Prove Your Thoughts Create Your Reality.