Dream ~ Act ~ Plan ~ Believe

If you are a regular reader of this blog you’ll know that I have been sharing some painful events from my past. I’ve been sharing my story with you, not to make you feel sorry for me, but to illustrate what I have learned in anticipation that the information will help others avoid the pitfalls I stumbled upon. Some people would read it and say, “Wow, she’s sure been a victim.” Not me.

Read on to see what I mean…

I’ve been reading the book “The One Minute Millionaire,” written by my mentor, Robert G. Allen and by Mark Victor Hansen. The book is full of millionaire ideas and teachings and in that way is an instruction manual on how to become an enlightened millionaire. At the same time it’s a novel that tells the story of a women named Michelle.

Michelle loses everything and comes in contact with a mentor who teaches her that each person is a potential victim. Everyone has had things happen to them that could bring them down. There is one trait that determines if we will be victorious over the circumstances we face. The ability to learn.

You see, a victim blames outside forces, or themselves for their circumstances. A victor learns from their experiences. I do not regret my past “negative experiences” because of what I learned.

A victor learns from their experiences.

That’s worth repeating. “A victim blames. A victor learns.”

You see, I am victorious. And if you don’t mind I’ll keep sharing the circumstances with you because I can’t wait to get to the victory stage of this blog where I share more of what I learned.

I highly recommend this book. I’m giving away copies of the book this week. To learn how you can get one, and get in on a series of Tele-Seminars taught by the authors, Mark Victor Hansen and Robert G. Allen go here. You don’t want to miss it.

To learn how I came in contact with my mentors and about a life-changing business that you can be a part of visit Creative Vision Books. Even if you aren’t looking for a business they concepts you’ll learn from being a part of this company are worth every penny. BookWise - We Change Lives!

Posted on April 28th, 2008 by Leisa
Filed under: Being Victorious, BookWise, Healing, Life Lessons, Mentoring, Millionaire Mindset | 7 Comments »

I’ve been feeling really out-of-sorts the past 48 hours. My brain has felt foggy and just want to cry. In fact, today my son walked into the laundry room to find me sitting upon a load of laundry crying. I must have cried fifteen times today.

At times like this all I want to do is curl-up under a blanket in a cabin in the mountains and listen to the sound of water rushing down a creek. I want to sit by a fire and read and have someone deliver gourmet take-out to me for the next few days, or some good old fashioned comfort food like a loaf of crusty bread with some real good soup. But no, I can’t do that. I’ve got laundry to do, business to take care of, kids to feed, and toilets to scrub.

I figure this “healing crisis” may have been triggered by my last post and in contemplation of the next few chapters of my life that I am going to share with you. That’s because they were the most painful.

I find it odd at times that I am telling the entire world about my life. But then I feel that it is the right thing to do. I know that what I have learned, what I have over come, can help people. My hope is that it will help others who may be going through difficulties in their life. So I’m going to keep sharing my story.

But back to the healing crisis. I’ve come a very long way.

I think I’ve seen the end of episodes like this and then one will sneak up on me unexpectedly.

Here’s how it usually unfolds. It begins with panic attacks, sensitivity to noise and light, lack of appetite, and a desire to just escape from the world. My family certainly must pick-up on it because they all have to have to go into crisis mode at the same time.

Why is that?

It’s just not fair!!!

Why can’t I have my own crisis without everyone else getting involved? It’s true you know, the saying, “If mama ain’t happy no one is happy.”

Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a pitty party, or a let’s feel sorry for myself moment. This simply means that I have gotten to another point in my life where I feel secure enough and safe enough to break down and heal a little more. No amount of positive thinking is going to help. I know because I am a positive thinker.

I used to think that something was wrong with me that I couldn’t think my way out of it until a friend explained it to me like this: “What you are going through it like a rebirth. Birth isn’t easy. Birth can be painful. But birth it is worth it. No one expects a new born mom to bounce back within minutes. You need to rest just as if you’d just given birth. Rest and heal.”

I realized she was right. That’s exactly what this is. Only I usually feel like I’m the baby. I’m coming from a point of being in a warm comforting space to all of the sudden being pushed and pulled out into a cold harsh world. It usually means that I need a few good crying spells, a good nights sleep, some good food, and I’ll be great again. So that’s why I call it a healing crisis.

But the more I think about it I hate the term “healing crisis.” It’s more like a “healing metamorphosis,” it’s more like my wings are being spread, and my soul is opening up a little more so the sun light can get in and heal my soul.

It’s like a forest first that burns out the old dead wood and renews the forest so something fresh and new can grow in it’s place.

So dear readers? What would you call it? What is a more positive term for this crisis?

P.S. Send take out please, no wait, send chocolate.  Never mind, the food would do me more good and truly sounds better.

P.P.S. Oh yeah, the next round of the Entrecard Game will start soon. I promise. And if I didn’t get a Entrecard dropped back to you yesterday or today I apologize. I’ll be back soon.

Posted on April 16th, 2008 by Leisa
Filed under: Depression, Fear, Healing, Loss, Panic Attacks, Recovery, Regret, Trauma | 7 Comments »

As you know a bandage is used to protect, immobilize, compress, or support a wound or injured body part. We recently purchased a box of sterile adhesive bandages. We’d bandaged the kids cuts and scrapes for a couple of months, but then discovered we’d been using these bandages for the wrong thing. They weren’t intended to tread injured body parts, but an injured soul.

Take a look…

(more…)

Posted on April 9th, 2008 by Leisa
Filed under: Healing | 4 Comments »

Life brings us the experiences that we need to grow from. We grow as our experiences expand and eventually everything works out in it’s own perfect way. Often we do not realize it until years later when we look back at our life with a different perspective. That perspective, the way we choose to view things, makes all the difference in the world.

I believe strongly that our thoughts attract our life’s experiences to us. I also believe that we select (subconsciously) things that we want to learn in this life and that we attract circumstances to us that will help us learn and grow. Once the lesson is learned those type of experiences are no longer needed. Once the lesson is learned those life experiences are longer needed and therefor no longer need to exist.

Not so ironically, I learned this life lesson through my life experiences.

You’ll see a perfect example of how this works as I continue on with my life story. You’ll see that once I learned the lesson I was meant to learn the negative experiences, that I needed to learn from stopped.

So how does people get from a point of experiencing the same things over and over again to a new existence with greater speed?

They change their perspective. They change how they choose to look at their past experiences. They change it by “simply choosing.”

So choose.

Simply choose… (more…)

Posted on March 9th, 2008 by Leisa
Filed under: Healing, Life Lessons, Perception | 2 Comments »

My apologies if you’ve already read this. I’ve decided to break
the last post down into more manageable chunks.

I was probably twelve at the time when the next traumatic event happened. My parents had gone out for the evening. My friend and I were co-babysitting by younger brothers and sister. We were sitting in the basement, watching the Miss America pageant. We had one set of stairs, and at the top of those stairs was a door that opened to the garage.

Suddenly, we heard the door from the garage open and then close. We heard someone walk through the kitchen to the living room, down the hall, and into my parent’s bedroom. We heard them open the drawers and begin rummaging through them.

My friend and I glanced fearful glances at each other, but didn’t want to alarm my siblings. But they heard it as well. David, my younger brother,said, “Leisa, someone’s upstairs.”

Now this was before they taught us about 911. Perhaps it wasn’t even around then. Probably not. But we couldn’t figure out what to do. Why we didn’t think to call my friends dad is beyond me. But hey I guess we were too scared to think clearly.

My dad had a phone in his office and we decided to call a neighbor. We chose them because they had an easy phone number to remember and it was the first thing that came to my mind. So we went into the office and I picked-up the phone to call. But what I heard next terrified me…

I picked up the phone and there was the intruder on the line. I could hear him breathing. I must have gone as white as a ghost because my friend kept saying, “Leisa, what’s wrong?” over and over again. Thankfully he hung up and I quickly called, under the sound of movement upstairs. Luckily someone answered the phone quickly. The neighbors called the police and rushed to our house and rang the doorbell.

Now here we were, in the basement. Trapped. Or so we thought. How were we going to get upstairs and open the door?

We all grabbed something from the office. I grabbed a big heavy hole-punch. The others grabbed my dad’s antique bottles (and we were really hoping we wouldn’t have to use them) and we slowly made our way upstairs to the front door. We let the neighbors in who took a look around. He had fled and we were safe.

The police arrived and took a report. I remember vividly my younger brother staring with big wide eyes at the policeman’s gun. I remember thinking that the policeman didn’t believe us, and that they thought our imagination got the better of us. It only they had seen the looks on everyone’s faces when they heard the door open. It was simultaneous. Over active imagination. No! The second traumatic event in my life. Yes!

And planted within me was the slight belief that cops couldn’t protect us. And I realized that day that I wasn’t safe in my own home. That belief would manifest itself in more detail later…

The third traumatic event occurred not to long later…

Posted on February 27th, 2008 by Leisa
Filed under: Life Lessons, My Story, Trauma | No Comments »