Archive for May, 2012

Today’s topic, vision boards, deals with a subject that I had firmly decided was pure wishful thinking, totally without merit. My first and only encounter with the idea of vision boards was long ago on a random episode of Oprah, in which she rhapsodized about setting up a board, pasting on it pictures of all of your dreams, wants, and desires, then sitting back and watching them manifest themselves. Pure hokum, I thought, and promptly put the idea of vision boards out of my head. Well, my Angels foxed me again. Inadvertently and unwittingly, I created a vision board, set it up in the perfect line of sight, instinctively adopted the correct mind-set, and succeeded in manifesting something that I had considered impossible, in a time-frame out of my wildest dreams.

It all started as I was translating into English the first volume of an extremely popular Hungarian fantasy series (sort of “Harry Potter” meets “The Lord of the Rings”). One of the characters in the story is a sporty, little, red, bewitched car by the name of Rouge Red. My friend, Béla (see also Archives, August 31, 2010 Erzsébet the Nutrition Angel and September 1, 2010 Erzsébet at work), and I used to laugh and joke together that once the book was published, I would buy a hot little red car and call her “Rouge Red”. Also in fun, he made the most outrageous claim that she would be a Mercedes Benz, because everyone knows that published authors are a rich lot. No, I told him, Rouge Red is definitely a BMW. We would continue in this vein, being as outrageous as possible, and just laughing our heads off. Great fun.

So, this past February, my elderly BMW (which I had purchased 8 years ago for a pittance as a used car and which now had nearly 200,000 miles on it) ran into a wheel-bearing problem, so I took it to the dealer for service. Usually when I wait for my car, I just sit down in the waiting area and read, because it would do me no good to browse the showroom. Those cars are all shiny and new, but with those price tags, they might as well all be on the moon. For some unknown reason, though, I decided to look around in the showroom this time, unrealistic price tags or not. My eyes fell on a 328xi in vermillion red and I was immediately in lust. Not only love, but lust. Never in my life have I lusted after a car and here I was, hopelessly, helplessly, irrevocably in lust. Immediately I knew that I had met Rouge Red in person. Except that I didn’t have a spare $42,000 in my pocket. Besides that, even if I had had that much money to spend, I wouldn’t spend it on a car, because of the depreciation factor. Still, enthralled, I looked her over. She was perfect: size, color, interior, accessories, you name it, she had it, and it was all perfect. I felt like Dorkness falling head over heels for a supermodel. Sighing, I acknowledged the impossibility of my desires, gave her one last, longing look, and sat back down to wait for my elderly car to be fixed.

Despite not a snowball’s chance in Hell of ever having this little red car in my possession, I did some research on this model BMW and began musing. Just for fun, I also looked up the Blue Book value of my 1999 323i, which came to the grand total of $2,000. That was a bit of a shock, but it gave me a good laugh. My elderly BMW (which I loved driving) was worth way more than that to me, and I gave it not another thought. Over several days, I told some of my friends and co-workers about the car and just generally gushed about it. We all agreed that it’s nice to have a dream and left it at that. But my Angels did not leave it at that. A few weeks later, BMW marketing sent me a packet containing their new offerings for 2012. Included in this packet was a 4X6 glossy photo of a representative car of each of their models. One of them was, you guessed it, a photo of a red 328xi. I laughed out loud. How funny, I thought. Here they even send me a photo of Rouge Red, just to tease me. Throwing away all of the ads, I kept the one photo and put it in a prominent place in my keeping room (kitchen). Each and every time I went past it, I alternately drooled and laughed.

I had a great time telling this story to my friends and co-workers. In the meantime, I began to wonder just how I could have this car in my possession. The best idea I could come up with was to contact the dealer in two year’s time. Perhaps the price would have dropped significantly by then, and I would have a better chance of affording it. A 50% price reduction would sit well with me, as that would put it in the same price range as a Toyota, Honda, or Subaru. Again, though, these thoughts were just idle fancy, for I had truly accepted that having this car in my possession was an unrealistic fantasy. And I was OK with that. Despite my lust, I accepted that I could not afford this shiny machine, no matter what my lust told me. Heaving the sigh of unrequited love, I went about my business.

April came and time to take off the snow tires. Again taking my car to the dealer, I sought out Rouge Red in the showroom. She was gone. It’s just as well, I thought, and settled down to wait. Soon, the service manager, who I have known for many years, came out to discuss my bill with me. Just in conversation, I mentioned that I had looked up the Blue Book value of my car and was shocked at the figure. I told him that it was worth way more than $2,000 to me. We laughed, then he asked me whether I had seen the BMW ads on TV, $328/month for a 328xi. He explained that I could lease that car for 30 months for $328 per month. He told me about another customer who, like me, had an elderly BMW with 210,000 miles on it, and she had leased a car. He said that both he and his girlfriend had also each leased one. “Where else could you get into a $42,000 BMW for that kind of money?” he asked. “Nowhere”, I answered. The thought was intriguing, but I still dismissed it. It still seemed like a pipe-dream to me. Telling him I would think about it, I paid my bill and went home.

The next afternoon, my phone rang. It was a salesman from the BMW dealership, calling me at the recommendation of the service manager. This was amazing. I felt as if the Universe was cramming this car down my throat, no matter that I was not particularly interested. This salesman answered all of my objections satisfactorily. It seemed that BMW could accommodate even the fussiest potential customer. I agreed to meet with him the next day, and then it was all over. My credit application was accepted, they found me my Rouge Red (with a moon/sunroof, no less), and I am now in possession of this impossible dream, leasing it at a price I can afford, with the option to buy it after 30 months for approximately $25,000. I am still in shock.

In shock, I called one of my longtime friends to tell her the story. At the end, she simply said, “vision board”. When that didn’t make sense to me, she told me that pasting pictures on a board, looking at them frequently, and keeping one’s mind open is the fastest way to achieve the results of one’s desires. She, herself, had manifested her horse, Bay, in this manner. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Something I had completely dismissed as bogus had just resulted in giving me something I had desired, and in an inordinately short time. Of course, now I am all afire, with no end of ideas for my new vision board.

Again, dear Readers, your Angels have chosen me as the guinea pig so that through my own experiences you can profit and gain in abundance, both materially and spiritually. The environment needed for success with your vision board is, first of all, a vision, idea, desire. Obtain a picture of it. Look at this picture often. Next, adopt the correct mental outlook for success. This appears to be an open receptiveness, with no urgent requirement for immediate fulfillment. Keep it loose and sweet; don’t grasp and grab (these attitudes will result in failure). Leave it up to your Angels to know the correct time for delivery. Finally, just sit back, marvel, and enjoy as your heart’s desire arrives on your doorstep.

Once in a while, direct evidence comes showing that, indeed, the greater world really, truly exists. Such an experience came to me not long ago, and I am thrilled to share this with you, dear Readers. One of my co-workers, Sue, told me this story that totally gave me goose bumps.

Just recently, Sue’s mother-in-law had collapsed suddenly from a stroke and was taken to the hospital. While there, she lay in a coma, unresponsive. One of her adult children, who had been born with Down’s syndrome and had lived at home all of his life, visited his mother in the hospital. At his visit, the mother, although in a coma, began singing “Over the Rainbow” with her handicapped son as the rest of the family stood nearby, aghast.

While in the hospital, Sue noticed a particular smell surrounding her mother-in-law, which seemed to emanate from her breath. Despite the excellent mouth care given by the staff, Sue’s mother-in-law’s breath had a particular odor, which, Sue says, she had smelled on her father, as well, as he neared the transition that we call “death”.

The day that the mother-in-law died, Sue was in the car with her husband. Turning her head, she suddenly smelled her mother-in-law’s breath. Surprised and shocked, Sue turned to her husband: “Did you smell that? It’s your mother!” The husband concurred; he had also detected that particular smell. Not much later, Sue’s brother-in-law, the son, also detected the smell, which was a shock to him, since he does not believe in any of this “hocus-pocus”.

In questioning Sue closely, she told me that she had smelled this particular odor first when her father began to fail. Up until then, he had exuded no particular odor, but as he took a turn for the worse, Sue began to smell the odor. As with her mother-in-law, Sue’s father “appeared” to his family through their sense of smell. Sue and her mother were sitting in the kitchen, talking, when suddenly Sue spoke up: “It’s Dad! I can smell him!” Then it was Sue’s mother turn. She also smelled the odor, which quickly faded.

The mother-in-law passed, but she had another trick up her “sleeve”. A funeral was planned. Sue went to the funeral home to pick up the small prayer cards that are traditional in some services. One of them fell to the floor. She picked it up and read it. At the bottom of the card were the words “somewhere over the rainbow”. Confused, she called the funeral home, asking how it happened that those words were included at the bottom of the card, when no one had ordered it. The reply was that those words could only have been included if someone had requested this inclusion—but no one living had.

This story is intriguing on many levels. First, of course, it corroborates the fact that none of us “die” but continue intact into the afterlife. Not only that, but for some reason, many who have passed feel a strong need to communicate with the loved ones left behind, to reassure them that they are not gone, but are just in a different reality. Secondly, the sense of smell is not one that I have ever associated with messages from the “other side”. For myself, I have had the experience of seeing a strange whiteness that began emanating from someone’s body a few days before that person made the transition. This experience was so unusual that it took me quite aback. I was working in a long-term care facility. One of the residents was a dynamic elderly man, who had recently had a stroke, but was recovering. Nothing kept him down. If he couldn’t walk, he rode in a wheelchair. If something was out of his reach, he devised a way of reaching it anyway. Nothing was keeping him down for any reason. In the midst of this amazing recovery, I happened to walk past his room. The door was open and he was sitting in his wheelchair, eating. His body was in profile to me and his face was clearly visible. As I glanced in, he appeared to emanate a whiteness from within. He did not glow, just emanated whiteness. The vision was so strange that I stopped momentarily, trying to understand what I had seen. When no explanation was forthcoming, I continued on my duties. Three days later, he died. Subsequently, I noticed this whiteness on several women, who also died a short time after the color was visible on them.

The odor Sue and her family was able to detect on their loved ones is the first I had heard of this phenomenon. Apparently, our loved ones are quite capable of determining which sense would be most useful in alerting us to their continued existence and tailor their communication to us with this thought in mind. My experiences have been only with sight. Sue’s have been only with the sense of smell.

Whatever method of communication deceased loved ones choose, their ties to family show how much they still care and how much they seek to reassure the ones left behind. As we hone our ability to receive from the spiritual world, we, too, become the recipients of untold blessings.