The last few days for me have been a spectacular adventure in alignment and purpose so remarkable that I was grinning ear-to-ear almost start to finish. From Sunday’s powerful day of acting on film to Monday’s chain reaction of high-vibing synchronicities, my jaw is agape in awe of the wonder and the power of aligning with Source. And just to set the tone, a thought from Abraham-Hicks:
“The Law of Attraction does not focus you – it responds to your focus. It’s up to you to focus yourself into alignment with that which you really are.”
It began early Sunday morning. Early. As in on-set-downtown-at- 7am-on-the-morning-of-daylight-savings early. But I was going to be acting. It was a short film by a friend of mine where I would be going through massive internal turmoil. I would be called upon to portray an array of emotional breakdowns, mostly without the benefit of lines. For a dramatic actor like myself, it sounded like Bliss. And it was. I got to spend hours putting the powerful new on-camera techniques I recently learned to good use, going deep into the emotional darkness of this character, and effortlessly stepping out of that between takes, with no residual “mental baggage” left behind. Amazing stuff.
Afterwards I went to work, bartending a small barbecue for the LA Galaxy soccer team. Yes, the Beckhams were there. You really couldn’t miss them. But at this point for me, seeing celebrities is so commonplace, it becomes a footnote, useful for remembering a specific day or event. Like that day I worked at Halle Berry’s house, and poured drinks for her and Jessica Biel, and Pink… and on it goes. But as far as these celebrity attended parties go, my goal is ultimately not to serve these people drinks. My goal is to be rubbing elbows amongst them as an equal.
And on that note, I had brought a couple pages of script with me, one of several scenes that I planned to perform for my demo reel. I knew one of my friendly co-workers was British, and in the interest of showcasing my talents in the broadest sense possible, I plan to employ a British accent for this particular character. My friend was gracious enough to record herself reading the script so that I might have an authentic reference point to work from. I may not look like David Beckham, but I can sure as hell learn how to sound like him.
Later that evening, I had some other work to attend to – putting together a self-assessment for my new acting mentor of where my acting career is presently at, what I need to work on, and where I intend to go. He and I had scheduled a consult to discuss all of this on Monday, and I wanted to set things off right. After spending an hour or so conveying my future goals and distilling my verbose style of self-expression down to the most succinct and honest summation I could muster, I climbed into bed, just after midnight. And that is really where my magic Monday began.
Rendezvous and Resonance
I dreamed most of the night of being the director on a large scale film production. I was working with actors, helping them draw out their truest, most captivating performances, and then moving to the CGI artists, nudging them towards collectively developing the best effects to enhance the film. It was a very detailed experience – one of those where I was not just watching as these events took place, I was LIVING them, so much so that I remember, in the midst of performing these tasks as the director, I was thinking to myself how much I love what I do for a living. I awoke with the sensation of having just traveled through time to my future, having lived a day in the life of my future self. It was beyond delicious.
After a warm “Good morning” from my lovely girlfriend, I made breakfast, listening to several Abraham-Hicks video segments as I typically do. As I listened on this particular day, a certain phrase caught my attention for some reason- “You’re right there.” The context was in discussing how the specific thoughts we choose determine how well we are harmonizing with (and therefore allowing in) all that we want to be, do, and have.
“When you’re fearful, you hold yourself apart from it all. When you’re feeling hope, you’re in the vicinity of it, and when you know, you’re right there.”
I had heard this many times before, but this time, it struck a chord with me – it felt like something more.
I went to the mailbox, and bumped into my neighbor doing the same. As she let out an audible ‘Woo Hoo! I got my new phone case!” I looked down at the mail in my hands – my second tax refund from the IRS had arrived. I was now nearly $600 richer.
I had the phone consult. It was everything I had hoped for. What was supposed to be an hour was much closer to an hour and a half. We just clicked. We talked of the typical ineffective avenues actors take in hopes of getting where they want to go, the desperate energy they bring to all of those endeavors, and the difficulty from that place to sustain any success they might acquire.
He imbued me with the most empowering viewpoint of the immense value of the talented, professional actor. And he offered the clearest, most lucid path to achieving all that I’m heading towards, how it has already worked for him so well, and why. He explained that most of his students, those who needed his mentorship the most, were too far from the perspective he offered to actually hear it and put it into action. “Where as you,” he said, “from what I can sense from your drive and focus and explicitly defined goals, you’re the ideal student I could hope for. You’re right there.”
As we ended the call, I was ecstatic. All the years of acting training without the benefit of business training. All the time developing skills and refining talent within a system designed to show you what to do when you already have the job, but somehow bereft of any effective means to get you there. Sure, there was still a road ahead for me to travel down, but for the first time in my life I felt like I finally had the last piece of the puzzle.
The Cooperative Universe
From this blissful place, I still had other business to handle. In getting my car registered here in California, it had failed the initial smog test. On Saturday I had work done to remedy this, and on the advice of the mechanic, had taken it to be retested late that afternoon. Second failure. But I had already decided that on Tuesday I would have all of this handled – registration and new license plates in hand. Done.
So, still buzzing from the mentor consult, and seeing my life and the path ahead from a golden perspective somehow even better than before, I went to meet with this mechanic and calmly, warmly explained what happened. He flipped through a stack of business cards, and made a call to a nearby smog test facility run by a friend. “I’m sending someone to you. Make sure his car is very warm before you test it. If it passes, he’ll pay for the test, if it fails, don’t charge him – I’ll take care of it.”
This was unlike anything I’d ever even heard of before.
But I was in a high vibration frame of mind, and knowing that in that state, I attract more of those similar feelings, it made sense to me. So now I was really expecting more of this stuff. I drove a couple blocks to the new test place, expecting to attain my car’s smog certification, and more good vibes.
I got there, and from the outside, it looked pretty typical. Inside this small garage was something else entirely. On one side were several large bird cages with over a dozen little multi-colored parakeets singing away. On the back wall was a gigantic mural of a fantasy nature dreamscape: what looked like full-sized bonsai trees, rocky cliffs and clouds framing a beautiful river, crescendoing into a magnificent waterfall. I knew I was in the right place.
As I sat there grinning widely, surrounded by my own golden bubble, lost in the endless intricacies of this beautiful mural, and listening to the sweet, gentle sounds of the birds, I noticed an unusual musical instrument lying on this man’s desk. And I knew that very shortly, I’d be listening to him play.
As the test began winding down, I asked him about the instrument – it was a Persian Sitar – very old. He was a musician. I asked if he would play something.
He leaped at the chance, but walked right past the sitar to a larger case. He opened it up and pulled out a bigger, dulcimer-like instrument I learned was called a Santoor – 72 strings and extremely difficult to tune. He took out two tiny felt-tipped “hammers,” and there in the smog test garage, he began to play some of the most beautiful, unusual music I’d ever heard before. We were both beaming with joy, lost in its rich, intricate harmonies. Thanking him for sharing his music, I left, giving him my card in hopes of hearing his next live concert. And of course, my car passed. The new license plates and registration adorn it now.
That night, when my girlfriend came home from work, she could see the light still gleaming in my eyes. As I recounted my mentor consult, she remarked at how much his words resonated with all she had been feeling about my imminent success. (She is my greatest cheerleader.) In fact, she revealed that each day on her lunch break, she would see a huge billboard for some movie or TV show. In her mind, she would filter out whomever was on it, and imagine me there instead – and that image had become more real to her than the actual picture; that practice ingrained into her daily routine. “Each day,” she was saying, “when I step outside on my lunch break and see that huge billboard, you’re right there.”
I got the message, Universe. Loud and Clear.