Jump to a Great Universe

Dear Reader, Our preferences, even our authentic ones, are fluid, changeable things. Today I'm all about pug puppies. Tomorrow, I might be crazed for miniature pigs (yes-- in fact-- I can feel it coming on... right.... now!)

Yesterday I wanted gold coins to swim in, today I think I'd prefer a chocolate river in which to wallow.

Now you might be thinking-- hey there, Carolyn! You just got me all worked up about the arrival of my gypsy caravan / infestation of of koalas / paradaisical eco-village.  And now you're telling me that stuff doesn't matter? It's all "fluid"?

Yes and no.

Yes, it's all fluid, and no, I'm not saying it doesn't matter.

When you practice Throbbing, Extra-rational Optimism, you will find some of your preferences being met with mind-boggling rapidity. And not just the ones you think are "easy" for the cosmic forces to deliver up. Some of the huge ones just come sliding in to your reality, like, BAM! But some of the others don't.  Why is that? Because our preferences are fluid, and they're all symbols of a certain elevated mode of being rather than ends unto themselves.

For example, yesterday one of my life-long dreams came true. I was offered a book deal from Balboa Press, a division of Hay House.

Optimism WORKS

I only started feeling finally ready to write a self-help book a few weeks ago. I began practicing my Throbbing, Extra-rational Optimism around that matter (check it out-- a published self-help book is on the list of 25 things I want! I wrote that list before this happened, friends!).  And believe me, my optimism needed to be really Throbbing and really Extra-rational because the world of book publishing can look grim. All the websites I read told me the process could take years of building an audience platform via a blog like this one in order to convince agents and publishers that I was a viable investment, soliciting literary agents with book proposals, waiting for an agent to be willing to take me on, waiting for an agent to sell my work to a publisher... on and on. Hay House doesn't even accept submissions of book proposals that aren't from agents! And I don't have an agent!

So how did my agentless self get a book deal? I responded to a neat contest that Balboa, Hay House's self-publishing division was having on twitter.  The winner of the contest would get Balboa's master publishing package, worth $8000 and $15,000 worth of promotion. To enter the contest, all I had to do was tweet a 140 character description of how my book would change the world to the company. That's all I had to do-- not a formal book proposal-- a TWEET!

Hops!

What I'm saying is, my response to Balboa's contest was not grueling hard labor-- it was a fun little adventure. It was a hop.  And now one of my topmost authentic preferences is on its way to becoming a reality.

I'm not telling you all of these to be like "Look how cool I am! I'm so much cooler than you! And luckier! And better!" -- I'm telling you this because it's a fresh hot example from my own life of how these universal principles we're talking about simply and factually work. Your dreams can start being fulfilled in dazzlingly simple ways, also.  This hasn't happened to me because I'm one of the Chosen. It's happened because I'm co-operating with deep principles, principles which can work for every body who's willing to work them.

But Where's My Caravan?

Let's go back now to the idea of fluidity. I just got my self-help book publishing preference fulfilled. But my rad gypsy caravan, itself didn't show up. Am I bummed about that? Not at all, because right now I know I'm in the universe where that caravan can happen, too.

You see, your vision of your authentic preferences, changing as it is, is important because it's the objective correlative of an intangible subjective state-- a total experience of reality, a universe.  In other words, your preferences are symbols of or metaphors for a life that's burning well.

Because your vision of your preferences is your own personal symbol for a well-burning life, vividly imagining that their fulfillment is eminent can be a useful means not only of making those specific things happen, but also of getting you into the resonance of a life experience that's bountifully joyous and rewarding.

Let me put it this way-- I might think I want a gypsy caravan that's so rad I can hardly stand it-- but what I really want is a universe wherein I feel generously supported in having disreputable adventures, free to be my expansively weird self.

What You Really Want is a Universe

I might think I want a few dozen miniature pot belly pigs-- but what I really want is a universe that's rich with humor and opportunities to nurture.

I might think I want a rainbow-colored pad at the Chelsea Hotel -- but what I really want is a universe that's saturated with beauty.

I might think I want a self-help book deal -- but what I really want is a universe wherein my gifts to the world are eagerly received.... and as it turns out, that can materialize as a self-help book deal!

So while an awesomed life is absolutely NOT about the stuff (an accumulation of gorgeous stuff and rockin' success can be empty, meaningless, and isolating-- just look at any Hollywood starlet)  your vision of your authentic preferences IS very important, because it's your ticket to traveling from the universe you're in now (the one, which, according to you, kinda sucks, at least in some dimensions) and the universe that's on your side, wherein life serves up giddy surprises with astounding efficiency.

How to Jump to a Horrible Universe

The premise of the wickedly delightful film Wristcutters: A Love Story is that when you commit suicide, you end up in a world that's not hell, exactly -- there's no fire and brimstone -- it's just like normal life, except it sucks more: there's no flowers or stars, it's grey all the time, no one can smile, everything breaks and stays broken, and your only friend is an angry Russian guy. Actually-- it's a lot like Moldova. The film is a parable for the way life works, taken to the extreme. If you go around despairing and acting accordingly, you'll end up in your own personal cosmos of lousiness.

In Wristcutters, through an act of despair (suicide) people land themselves in a universe that's even worse than the one they hated so much to begin with.  It's not just that one element is worse-- it's a total package. It's all-around worse.

How to Jump to a GREAT Universe

Throbbing, Extra-rational Optimism works the same way-- except in the other direction. Through acts of hope (hops - hopeful optimistic practices) people land themselves in a universe that's much better than the one they started out with.

It's my experience that the universe brought on by Throbbing, Extra-rational Optimism (TERO) is one where flowers and stars are more intensely lovely, everyone smiles more, HUGE things come together effortlessly, and you have a giant circle of incredible friends who adore you, and whom you adore.

Just like it's fully within your power to make your life worse through acts of despair (including the ultimate one, suicide), it's also fully possible to awesome your life with TERO and hops.

So dive in to seeing and believing in the arrival of your infestation of koalas, your paradaisical eco-village and your river of chocolate, because those are your soul's shifting symbols for what a great universe feels like.  They help you to conjure the feeling or resonance of that universe, and that feeling is your ticket to jumping right into that awesomefied reality.