Charles Haanel – The Master Key System – Stage 2

I know in an earlier post I said that I was embarking upon a 24 week goal surrounding the 24 chapters of Charles Haanel – The Master Key System, but I fear it’s going to take me longer..

It’s not that I haven’t tried, I’ve just been busy….. That may seem like an excuse to some, and… well, yeah it is a little bit. Why put myself under needless pressure though? I’ll get through the book, it will just take me longer than 24 weeks, that’s all.

Chapter 1 – I’ve nailed that. I’ve read, re-read, re-read again, looked up words I didn’t know the meaning of, and followed the exercises. Sit still for 15 – 30 mins a day… The early stages of meditation.

I can do that. I’ve always been able to do that. I’ve always been able to daydream and I’ve always been able to sit still… I do it frequently in work.. (don’t tell anyone that though)..Now I’m just applying it slightly differently.

Chapter 1 – Passed.

Now on to chapter 2.

I’m in the early stages of chapter 2, but something is starting to click… Actually more than click… Beat… Something is starting to beat.

I’m changing a little bit. I’m growing a little bit. Part of my conscious mind is throwing good, wonderful, provoking  mud at my subconscious mind and it’s starting to stick.

I’m going to be good at this…. I am good at this.

There are some days in your life you’ll never forget

Sometimes, there are days you don’t ever want to forget. Days so perfect that if you could paint a picture of how you wanted it to look, it would look like that. If you could write the script for that day, it would be as you’d have written. Days you’ll want to preserve from every test and trick that time has. Sometimes these are days of great significance, sometimes these are just normal days. Either way, if a thief came into your mind trying to steal your memories, these are the ones you’d gather up behind you to protect with all your strength.

The weekend just gone was one of these occasions. The weekend celebrated an important event. The Christening of my beautiful Goddaughter.

Rewind about 8 years or so….

I was walking to my car from work one Friday evening with the intention of going to the gym. It was a summer’s evening with a clear blue sky. The perfect beer garden weather. Whilst walking past a pub, there was a lady from work sitting outside. We’d exchanged pleasantries in work, had the odd polite chat, but we didn’t know each other. This lady asked if I wanted to join her for a drink. (I feel I must add, that she wasn’t drinking alone in the pub, she was with a group of colleagues!). I accepted…… Fate must have been late clocking off from work that day, because accepting that drink has led to accepting a life long friendship.

You know how sometimes you’re describing people or telling a story and you’ll say “My friend’s mother or husband or sister” etc etc… I don’t do that when I’m describing these people. I don’t do that because I describe them as “my friend”. Because they are. A friendship struck over a beer with one person has led to a friendship struck over a lot of beer with an entire family.

I think a test of a good friendship is when you feel comfortable enough just to sit in their company. Like you do with your own family. You don’t have to speak, you can just sit… I can do that with these friends. I can just sit. I enjoy their company, I love their stories, I appreciate how dear each of them is to me.

Fast forward to present day…. When my friends gave birth to their 2nd child in September, they asked me to be Godmother.

Now, you can never underestimate what an honour this is. When a parent asks you to be a Godparent, what they are saying is “We trust you”… “We trust you with the most precious item God has given us.. Our child”..

As part of my christening gift, I wrote my Goddaughter a poem and had it made into a book. I wanted something she could have for life to remind her that I will always protect her and guide her. The message I wanted to convey was that being a Godmother is more than just a title, and lasts longer than just the christening day. It lasts a lifetime. I’ve spoken in earlier posts about passion, well.. passion helped me write that poem. I’m passionate about being the best Godmother I can. I’m passionate about doing the best I can for my godchildren.

I had two copies made, one for me, and one for her.

What I didn’t expect was for my friend to read it out at the church before the service. My friend said that they had wanted to respect the time and effort I had taken to write it and wanted to share it with everyone… That’s the kind of people they are.

It’s actually quite difficult for me to put into words how that made me feel. I sat in the church with my Goddaughter on my lap hearing the words I’d written to her spoken aloud for the first time by her mother.. My friend. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so humbled and yet so proud at the same time. It was perfect.

Every word we speak creates a vibration, which is why we should always choose our words carefully. It’s like when you throw a pebble in a still pond. The water level in the pond rises, and changes because you have added to it, and the ripples created continue far beyond the point of impact.

That’s what happened Saturday. Part of the world’s vibration rose and changed, caused by my words, my dedication to a beautiful little girl. They exist now.  They were spoken, with perfect emotion and perfect emphasis. Somewhere in the universe, their existence is causing ripples. Good ones I hope..

As for my friend, I didn’t think I could have any more respect and admiration for her than I did already… A truly remarkable, strong, beautiful, wonderful person.

Usually the tide of time brings waves that crash over you so quickly, you wish you could stem the flow to make sure your savour and enjoy every moment. On Saturday, time was very kind to us. It dripped slowly and carefully. If you could look inside every droplet, you would find smiling faces and warm-hearted emotions from wonderfully good people. If you could hear every droplet fall, you would hear the echoes of laughter, the chatter of good conversation and spoken words of affection.

Saturday I became a Godmother for the fourth time, so the following is dedicated to my three Godson’s and my new Goddaughter….

I found a fairy in a jar.

When I opened it and set her free, I asked her to do something for me in return. Find you. Follow the path that connects me to you. A path where our footprints will be forever found.

I asked her to sprinkle fairy dust on your soul, so you may always have spirit in your heart and magic in your thoughts. I asked her to splash a fairy teardrop on you, so you may always feel your emotions. I asked her to whisper words of affection and encouragement into your ears so you may always hear the good echoing inside you.
I asked her to catch your wishes in a net and put them by the side of your bed in a jar, so as you grow older you’ll never forget them.
I asked her to light the paths in front of you with fireflies so you will always know the right one to take.
Finally I asked her to take a piece of my heart and drop it in your pocket. It is now yours. This way you will know that you are protected and loved by me. Always…

I did this so you know, fairies and Godmothers always go hand in hand together”

Happy St David’s Day

Happy St David’s Day!

Today the Welsh celebrate our patron saint… St David… or Dewi Sant.

My childhood memories of St David’s day are slightly bitter sweet.

Firstly, I hated wearing my welsh costume to school… Welsh girls everywhere have Lady Llanover to partly thank for that… She is thought to have championed the welsh costume during the 19th century to declare identity when it was thought to have been under threat.

This is what little Welsh girls have to endure every March 1st…

To be fair… This is a bad example… The hat was never that big usually!

Thats the bitter part…

The sweet part is that school on St David’s day consisted of a church concert in the morning and then a half day!..A half day off school!!!… Fantastic! This doesn’t happen any more, but when I was growing up, I think I was more grateful to St David for that, than I was for the miracles he was said to have performed..

This morning, it was an absolute joy to see little boys and girls on their way to school in welsh costumes,  or with daffodils and leeks pinned on their chests….

Now that I’m older, I understand more about St David, and the importance of a Country celebrating a national day… I’m proud to be Welsh, I’m proud of my Country and I’m proud of my heritage.

In the last sermon to his followers before his death, the last words thought to have been spoken by St David are…

“Do the little things in life”

A message still as important today as it was in the 6th century..

(I would have liked to have spoken more about St David, but I rather stupidly started this post at the eleventh hour (quite literally) and needed to publish it before midnight)