Last Chance for New Course HERE
It wasn’t quite the same as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, where the super-handsome heroes go out in a blaze of gunfire and a freeze-frame ending.
Even so, I cannot think of two more dashing gentlemen facing a more unfortunate parting of ways.
I’m referring to the fact that, just three weeks ago, Vlad and I learned that his best friend Malibu’s family was moving out of our building.
And yesterday, it happened.
This is—I swear—an entirely unposed photo from their last few minutes together.
Vlad and Malibu have been best friends from the moment they met almost 3 years ago.
On average, they hang out together 3 to 5 nights a week.
Sometimes that involves incredibly boisterous wrestling; other times, they quietly chill, happy just to be in the same space.
Bobby, Malibu’s dad, usually texts me a little after 9 p.m. when Malibu starts nudging him to remind him of a potential playdate.
Alas, those days of living down the hall from each other are gone.
In some ways, when thinking about this month’s theme, it feels like an artful sequence.
Namely, I’m moving from Expansion to Exploring Contrast (New Meditation HERE).
The concept of contrast appears in the work of everyone from Louise Hay to Michael Beckwith and Wayne Dyer, but the specific term is very much Abraham-Hicks.
According to Abraham-Hicks, contrast is essential because it helps people define and refine their desires.
By experiencing what you don’t want, in other words, you get clearer about what you do want, which helps in the manifestation process.
And yet, as with Malibu’s departure, that can often feel like a rather miserable experience rather than a growth opportunity.
Speaking of which…
Before and beyond Malibu’s departure, I’m definitely experiencing my fair share of contrast these days.
Sometimes our growth feels like a walk through a lush meadow, easily absorbing kindly life lessons along the way.
Other times, it’s a creative crucible, a trial by fire, a forced awakening.
Indeed, as Anaïs Nin famously wrote:
“And the day came when the risk
to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk
it took to blossom.”
That’s partly why I created my new course––sign up HERE––that starts on Wednesday.
Oftentimes, as Gloria Steinem instructs, we need to teach what we most need to learn.
I did have an unusual and profound growth experience early in the week.
Saerome, my partner on the wellness app project, is a Rapid Transformational Therapist, a methodology that I personally had to Google.
Basically, RTT combines principles of hypnotherapy, psychotherapy, neuro-linguistic programming (NLP), and cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) to achieve quick and effective results in unsticking psychological gunk.
She’s often offered me a sample session and although eager, somehow the time was never quite right.
This week, however, it fit both of our schedules, and in two 2-hour sessions (with a long break), during four hours of work we solved all my problems!
Just kidding, of course.
Even so, this actually did happen: we finished four minutes before a scheduled meeting, one that I thought would be about introductions and checking in, more or less pro forma.
Instead, it was spectacular, with huge short term and long term benefits I hadn’t anticipated at all.
Yes, the successes were based on projects and relationships I’d been working on and cultivating for years, but it’s hard not to ascribe some direct causality to finishing deep inner work and then seeing such immediate results.
It’s a positive version of “the straw that broke the camel’s back” in other words, although it’s funny that we don’t have an equivalent phrase for that, except perhaps for “the final piece of the puzzle.”
Anyway, I make absolutely no promises, but if you’d like to check out my friend’s practice it’s HERE.
Whether it’s a therapeutic practice like RTT, or a course like my new one HERE, the connection between moving through contrast to achieve expansionis profound.
As Robert Frost famously (almost) wrote––the actual line in the poem is a little different––
“The only way out is through.”
Or as novelist Haruki Murakami penned:
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
Malibu’s family effusively promises that they will still hang out frequently.
They are in transition and moving to Malibu’s dad’s family’s house (only 30 minutes away) for a month or two while looking for a new place, possibly one nearby.
It is extraordinarily unlikely though, that it will be just down the hall.
This might mean that we plan elaborate outings together, hikes, and maybe even beach trips.
Entirely new playgrounds might open up to them.
This contrast could yield expansion in unpredictable ways.
We’ll have to see.
Extreme Cuteness Trigger Warning:
Here’s one more image of them together, hanging out in their last moment as brotherly neighbors.
Final thoughts…
Most people on the baseball field have no clue about Vlad and Malibu’s bond.
In fact, they barely greet each other there.
Vlad is obsessed with fetch; Malibu likes to explore and wrestle other dogs.
Yet almost every day, we all exit together for the delightful (but overpriced) hipster coffee shop, and then head home.
This Friday, on that fateful day, both dogs were surprised when Malibu was invited over post coffee shop walk.
As his folks waited for and then oversaw the movers, he spent 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. with us.
Rumi tells us that
“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.”
I think the same can be said for best friends like these.
Despite the contrast right now and the forced expansion, I’m trusting their connection will remain absolute.
Namaste for Now,
