Tag Archives: Energetic Creatures

Why You Should Live Like a Tramp

Why You Should Live Like a Tramp

Oh, whoops, did my title cut off? That’s supposed to say “Why You Should Live Like a Trampoline.” Silly me. (My most humble apologies to anyone who clicked through with the notion I was plugging promiscuity. Saucy minx.) But I digress.

So, let’s jump right in! Why SHOULD you live like a trampoline? Three reasons.

  1. Trampolines are fun. Enough said.
  2. They’re good for your health. (All my chronically ill warriors out there, check out “rebounding” to help restoratively combat muscle deterioration, improve circulation, and give you those feel-good endorphins!)
  3. They give back. You put energy in, and it gifts it right back to you, rewarding you with a few seconds of: “I’m flying! Take that, gravity! Suckaaaa!!” This is the point I’d like to focus on.

Step-by-Step Tutorial for How To Live Like a Trampoline:

Step One: Put good energy in.

Step Two: Rebound said good energy back into your world.

Step Three: Repeat.

Simple, right? It really all comes down to this: we are all energetic creatures. Everything around us is energy. That desk. Your coffee. That poodle. It’s all made up of teeny tiny molecules moving so fast, we can’t see it. We just see the solid desk. The liquid coffee. The drooling poodle. (D’joh!) But it’s all energy, and so are we. So let’s feed our world the way we feed our bodies: with the best fuel possible. After all, like attracts like… and if you get out what you put in, then wouldn’t you rather put in only the good stuff? Like love, joy, and– the most crucial for anyone struggling with a chronic illness– gratitude?

Today, give it a try. Imagine yourself as a trampoline. Set your intention, like Dr. Wayne Dyer tells us in his book “The Power of Intention,” to only see the good: the good in others, the good in your world, the good in the tiniest minutiae of your day. Then, gift it back. Become a beacon for light and love. Someone stressing you out at work? Try only letting yourself see the good in them. Your drive-you-crazy in-laws about to descend? Try only letting yourself see the good in them. Too sick to finish your to-do list? Try only letting yourself focus on the good you did accomplish.

Like all things, this is far easier than it sounds. But, so what? We’re only focusing on the good it will bring! So try it with me. Live like a tramp. (Heh. Had to.) Just for one day. Let’s see what happens.

Booooiiiinnnnggggg!!!!! Love and Light Comin’ Atchya!

The Foda

We Are Energetic Beings

We Are Energetic Beings

There is a sphere around us.

Translucent and weightless, it encases our every movement, clear as cellophane, invisible to all except the inner eye of our sixth sense.

It constricts around us like a second skin under times of duress, clinging to our forms as fear, anger, and pain sucks out the air cushioning the space around us until our brilliant sphere is flat and concave.

There it stays, stuck to our skins, until it can be filled again by hope, by love, by a breath of peace that gently expands our sphere like a bellow, giving us room to grow, to breathe.

And yet throughout this dizzying melee, this dance of ins and outs, we cannot see it. We can only feel it.

We feel it in the urge to step away when a stranger steps too close, their sphere pressing invasively against ours. We feel it when we enter a room and sense immediately the fight that just ripped the air with its violence, although no words have been spoken. We feel it when our loved ones approach, and everything around us gets bigger, lighter, more precious.

We live within these energetic spheres. And when they constrict, when pain or illness or death or life impedes our ability to love and live openly, we feel trapped within our own skins, our bodies becoming a prison from which we can’t escape.

This is when we must fill ourselves with love, with friendship, with purpose and passions that excite and entice us. This is when we must consider what fills our sphere, what stretches it wide with visceral energy, fizzing brilliantly around us like champagne, encouraging us to reach, to grow our sphere even further out into the world.

This is when we must name the draws, the energy thieves that pull from our sphere, making it smaller, crushing it on top of us like an avalanche. We must name them so that we can refute their hold on us. We must tell them: You no longer serve me. You are not welcome in my sphere. You take away from me, so that I, in turn, have less to give myself, my beloveds, both that I have met and those I’ve yet to meet. You constrict my world, hold it closed like a snake’s embrace, and my world is too beautiful to tarnish with your smallness.

We must name them all: people, places, objects, actions, thoughts that spin unchecked in our heads, scripts we’ve not yet learned to change. Ones that tell us we deserve less than we do, that we’re not miraculous, sensational creatures just the way we are, deep-seated beliefs that refute the undeniable truth: that we have an extraordinary gift to give the world.

We must reclaim our spheres, omitting all we can that no longer serves us, consciously feeding and filling the space with love and wonder and gratitude for the wide-open future, so full of beauty and possibilities.

We are energetic creatures. And as such, we can choose to be depleted by holding onto parts of our lives we have the ability to release. Or we can open our arms and choose to be filled, so that we may bestow our unique genius onto the world: our greater, collective sphere.

Let us choose to fill ourselves, and by extension, this sphere that holds us all, uniting our world as one.


** Many thanks to the incandescent Tyler Bel for providing the inspiration for this piece.