The Healthier We Are On The Inside…
By David Sunfellow
First published Saturday, November 20, 2010
Links updated Tuesday, July 24, 2012
While I’ve been aware of and working with manifestation principles for many years (we create our reality through the power of our thoughts, emotions, intentions), lately I’ve been getting a near-constant dose of reminders. My work with near-death experiences, for example, has led me to a tidal wave of stories wherein people describe how our inner world creates everything we experience in the outer world (for a good example of this, read this amazing interview with Anita Moorjani). A couple days ago, I was reminded of another amazing interview I encountered several years ago. In this interview, Andrew Cohen spoke with Peter Ragnar about a variety of manifestation-related issues. While almost everything Ragnar said struck gold with me, several parts of the interview leapt out with renewed vigor this time. Here’s one example:
“We have a wild boar — I mean, you ought to see this thing. He’s got a mane like a big black lion and burning red eyes — especially at night — and these big tusks. It would scare the hell out of anybody if they saw him. We call him by name; I call him Rasputin. He comes running up and dances around in a circle on the deck. He loves us. And this thing is totally wild. If a stranger came here, they’d never see this happen. They wouldn’t see a bear, they wouldn’t see a deer, and they certainly wouldn’t see the coyotes. The birds leave, too, when the vibrations are wrong or off.
“Now, what does that tell you about life? All life is one, and if you’re in harmony with it, you can walk out into the middle of a forest, walk up to a strange deer, and touch it. The first time a mama bear came, I was out in the woods. I laid down in front of her, and she came over and sniffed me. And I showed her that I was totally surrendered, that I wasn’t going to hurt her. I have not one ounce of fear or negativity about these animals. You know, she was pregnant, and she brought her three cubs. She brought them right to our bedroom door, and we babysat the cubs while she went off and had some free time. This is on a regular basis. I’ve got photographs of this. The cubs would come in the bedroom, and we’d watch them until she came back half an hour later. And then off they’d go with their mama, because there’s no disconnect. There is no separation. It’s all one beautiful picture. However, when people with other energies come — people with fears and apprehensions — they don’t see a thing. The world changes. It’s a different world…”
While the kind of relationship that Ragnar says he has with animals is something to ponder by itself, what leapt out at me this time were the last three sentences: “when people with other energies come — people with fears and apprehensions — they don’t see a thing. The world changes. It’s a different world…”
I thought about this all day — how people can literally be in the same space and see, feel, experience different things. Or, alternately, how we can draw experiences to ourselves (good and bad; wonderful and traumatic) that other people may be completely unaware of and be unable to experience themselves.
And that night I had a dream.
After repeating several scenes that reminded me of childhood wounds, and suggesting that I was inappropriately hanging on to and feeding off these wounds, the dream passed along this message:
“The healthier we are on the inside, the healthier the world looks to us on the outside. Instead of projecting our own woundedness on the world, and then feeling compelled to fix all the problems we see reflected back to us, we stop projecting, relax, and begin to see everything in a new, more beautiful light.”
Now that, I thought, was insightful — and definitely a message I needed to hear. While I’m still trying to understand how this dynamic works, it is clear to me that I often project my own hurts on the world around me and then spend time trying to make things feel OK within by fixing all the things I perceive to be wrong on the outside. What would the world look like if I was healthy enough not to funnel everything through my wounds? Maybe everything would look different. Maybe I would feel more relaxed and see less of a need to fix things. Maybe what look like problems now would disappear, or, if not disappear, loose their charge because they would be seen from a larger, deeper, more all-encompassing perspective.
Something to think about. Here’s another way to say what I said above:
“When we look out upon the world, and see things that desperately need to be fixed and, at the same time, feel a desperate need to fix the broken things we see, this is more a reflection of us, and our woundedness, than the actual state of the world.”
“Attempts to change the world that are based primarily on projection and compulsion are misguided, ineffective, and counterproductive.”
To learn more about dreams and how to use them to transform your life, go here.