Roald Dahl – Pam Grout

Why I no longer listen to the maniac in my head

June 3, 2016 142 Comments

“My life was an open suitcase and clothes were strewn all over the place.”–Amy Poehler

miss-trunchbull When you write a book, the manuscript goes back and forth between you and your editor like a ping pong ball. Right now, the designed PDF of Thank & Grow Rich, my book that debuts in August, is on my side of the table. I am looking it over one last time before it goes to the printer, never to be changed again.

So, I thought I’d run a short excerpt here on the blog. This is from the chapter called Static where I list the many things that gunk up our joy and gratitude frequency. The little asshat in our head, I’ve discovered, that imposter that pretends to be us, is one of the biggest deterrents to the Divine Buzz.

I’d love to hear what you think in the comments section below:

Waterboarding has nothing on the torture that used to take place in my brain. A nonstop voice loop reminded me of all that was lacking in my life. This obnoxious voice (think Miss Trunchbull, the sadistic headmistress in Roald Dahl’s Matilda) kept tabs on all I was doing wrong. It made long lists of things I needed to improve.

It insisted I should try really hard to “be a better person.” Its ears perked up anytime someone mentioned a new self-help book. It’s for your own good, it said.

This voice was very clear that something was wrong with me. It told me that, unlike everyone else, I had glaring flaws.

“Pam,” it liked to say, “you don’t quite measure up to other people, the cool people. You aren’t as funny. Your skin’s not as clear. And while you sometimes have a way with words, you’re basically day-old Alpo compared to say Pat Conroy or Mary Karr. You might as well just get in bed and start tomorrow.”

For the longest time, I thought this voice was me. It did a very convincing impersonation. I took the voice to therapy. I explained its opinions about my worth to my friends. I believed that when I voiced its concerns, I was voicing my concerns.

It wasn’t until I began counting my blessings that the other frequency was able to make contact, the still, small one that whispered kind truths. I much preferred what is was saying. It suggested I start focusing on how deeply I am loved. How truly beautiful the world is.

It suggested the most important thing I could do for myself was get happy. Quit judging myself.

The Miss Trunchbull voice, it whispered gently, is not you. It’s a pseudo-Pam that you installed when you were very young, a voice that pretends to be you and pretends to be very, very important.

The still, small voice reminded me that everything I see, everything I believe, is just a story I made up. It told me that, in Truth, I am spirit. I am light. All those voices, those wars going on in my head, are nothing but chunks of the collective consciousness that I can either believe and defend against or I can transmute with gratitude.

The real me, it told me, is kind, giving, in deep communion with all of creation. The real me is a true force for love.

Pam Grout is the author of 18 books including E-Squared: 9 Do-it-Yourself Energy Experiments that Prove Your Thoughts Create Your Reality and the about to be released, Thank and Grow Rich: a 30-day Experiment in Shameless Gratitude and Unabashed Joy

“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” –Roald Dahl

March 4, 2013 4 Comments

“I pray for the change in perception that will let me see bigger and sweeter realities.”
–Ann Lamott

My favorite thing in the whole world is miracles. I’ve been a student of ‘A Course in Miracles’ for 25 or so years. The TV series I created is set in an ecovillage called Milagro Springs. Milagro, of course, is Spanish for miracle. And I spend my life looking for miracles which, according to my way of thinking, is actually recognizing Truth.

Miracles are natural and normal and happen all the time…once we give up antiquated ways of thinking.

I also love sharing miracles. My new friend Michelle Dobbins, who writes the fabulous blog, Daily Alchemy, devotes Monday to shout-outs or what she calls “Monday raves.” As she says, it’s a time to notice and get excited about the wonderful things in our lives. For more above raves, she suggests Lola Jones. Check out Lola’s fun and fabulous rave movie here.

So it’s Rave Monday (thank you Michelle) and I’d like to take this opportunity to rave about the following two miracles:

The first happened to my friend, Kris. Over the weekend, she lost a favorite necklace. It fell off sometime before, during or after a party. Because there’s snow on the ground, she knew it could be anywhere, buried deep in a bank of snowflakes. At first, she freaked out. It’s her favorite necklace. She frantically began retracing her steps, digging through snow in front of the party, exhausting herself with mental energy—“Oh, no! How will I ever find my necklace in this weather?”

And then suddenly, she got it. That energy, that fear and crazy belief that finding it would be hard could only keep the necklace away. She began to affirm how easy it is to find misplaced items. Within a couple hours, she found a phone that had disappeared a few months ago, a pair of sewing scissors she’d been looking for and one other thing that had mysteriously gone missing.

Her partner went back over to the party and within minutes, called, “Hey, your necklace was right there in a snow drift in front of the house.”

The other miracle happened to yours truly. To set the scene, I have to tell you that my hometown, Lawrence, Kansas, has a really cool, old school downtown with lots of coffee shops, local boutiques and art galleries. We are very proud of our downtown and worked hard to….shall we say…dissuade a big mall from coming in. But the downtown Parking Nazis are rabid. If you park downtown and don’t deposit a quarter or two (hey, what can I say? It’s dirt cheap), you’re going to return to find a yellow envelope under your windshield wiper. Sometimes two or three. It’s as sure as the sun coming up.

I was running late (as usual) to meet my friend, Joyce, for lattes on Saturday. I jetted across the street and remembered, “Ah shucks. I forgot to feed the parking meter.” But I was late and lazy and decided to just make the intention that a wall of protection would surround my car. I do this a lot when I’m driving. Fast forward two and a half hours. Yes, Joyce and I can really talk. I go back to my little car, innocently sitting there with NO TICKETS!!! In fact, the parking meter had 45 minutes to go. So thank you, kind person who fed my parking meter and thank you, universe, for responding (AS ALWAYS) to my last-minute intention. Life is so good!!!!

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