I wish I could see what you see

It was always one of the things about Dead Rita that was so frustrating. She couldn't see herself clearly. She couldn't see the beauty, the wisdom, the strength that those of us who knew her saw in her. And when I would spend hours talking with her about who she was, and that she could do anything, she'd look at me and sadly say, "I wish I could see myself the way you see me. But I don't."

I thought I had that one under control. That I saw myself clearly. But in the last few days, and especially today, I realized, I don't. I am truly not believing what is possible – or what I've accomplished. And it's a shame. Because too much time is spent trying to overcome my OWN objections. Really frustrated, I decided to blog about this and then I thought about turning to a chapter in Dead Rita's Wisdom for some….wisdom! And the following is an excerpt of what I found just now that I had previously written in a moment of clarity in the Chapter titled "Yes, but":

After she died, I received a wonderful gift from her. I believe it is the last piece of wisdom I ever heard in her voice. It was in 2003, I was at a coaching retreat and had come to some realizations about who I truly was and what I could bring to the world. And it wasn't grand or grandiose, but it was life changing and very grounding for me. Knowledge brings peace – there was no euphoria, just a settling in my soul who I was. And as I sat journaling in this last day of the retreat, I was filled with a serenity and then I heard Dead Rita say to me, "Vic, you have just learned what I never knew: you have learned who you are and now no one will have to spend their lifetime trying to show you that – and no one will have the responsibility as you felt for me to try and get them to see their own innate skills and gifts."

If Dead Rita's Wisdom never hits the shelves, I'm good because it's real wisdom and it will used to help those who can benefit from it through me. (But I'm seriously up for a monster book tour!)

I forgot what I know. I have to reflect and remember and see myself as others see me. Not for better or worse (the way I usually head), but actually as who I am.

In my fears and frustration today, I continue to faithfully ask for signs and support. And they come not from an apparition of Dead Rita, but in the form of profound conversations – and wonderful friends, old and new, who touched my life today.

And I am truly thankful.

Well said

So I'm a little late posting my joy at our new President Elect. But after YEARS of pain, a few days is nothing. Last night we had an event for Itafari at the Hyatt in Bellevue WA. The students of Prof. John Bacon's marketing glass had a pay it forward for our organization….they KICKED it !! Over $21,000 raised with FEW expenses. Amazing. They named their organization IGNITE and they certainly did. There was a great mood in the room last night – an aura of hope. Something will change in this country and I'm happy to be watching it and play any part I can in it.

So here are my thoughts about our new President Elect. And they're not my thoughts but a dear friend who said it as well as I've heard. Julie Bonaduce – fabulous woman, tremendous friend, and creative as all GET OUT! Her are her words:

What a miraculous time to be alive.

The last 8 years have been an exercise in despair for me, and I allowed it harden into a nasty shell. But at the Democratic National Convention in 2004, the crust cracked. Just a little, but it cracked. The next day I got online and gave $100 to a freshman senator from Illinois. In the comments section of the contribution form, I did nothing short of beg him to be my president.

Obviously I don't take credit for his decision to run. In fact, I was certain his webmaster would find it odd - some loony chick in Oregon sending a hundred bucks to a practically unknown senator half a country away. But maybe there were a lot of us loonies online that day. And on a chilly February morning in Springfield, maybe there were even more of us who decided to take an active role in a political campaign for the first time in our lives. And perhaps there were still more of us who had been dealing with despair for a hellava lot longer than eight years, and who finally decided it was time to fulfill the Dream.

I can hardly wrap my head around the joy and pride that I feel. I'm happy to call myself an American again, but also feel a little ashamed for having let one man's politics of fear take that away from me. So thank you, America, for showing what you're really made of. And thank you to those of you on the other side with the grace and willingness to participate in the miracle, even if you don't necessarily agree with the politics of it. And to those of you who are angry and dealing with your own despair now, I understand. I genuinely hope that we can make it up to you, and maybe even win back a little of your confidence in the system by showing that this way can work, too. You might even find we can be better and stronger for it.

I'm proud to be an American. Not in that loud, strident country song kind of way. It's a deep, abidingly peaceful way that leads by example. I'm proud to be an American that will again be compassionate and trustworthy and willing to listen, particularly to those with whom we disagree. And I'm VERY proud to be an American that finally and truly begins to live the values set down in our constitution. Ya know, that little snippet about all men being created equal.

This is a good day. I hope we remember and continue to live up to it every subsequent day of our lives.