Excerpt

Since January 20th of 1981, the regulatory environment in every sector of the American federal government (from consumer and environmental protection to every aspect of our financial institutions like banking, insurance and Wall Street investment and trading regulations) has been systematically weakened, all in the interest of strengthening and consolidating corporate power over the everyday lives of Americans, and to test neo-conservative economic theories of letting the “free market” solve all of American society’s problems. As we’ve seen one wave of financial shock after another blow through the American economy since then, and specifically witnessed each shock affect the financial markets with increasing volatility and culminating in 2007-2010 as the worst recession since the Great Depression, examination of the underlying causes has made it clear that nearly thirty years of deregulation of the financial industry was a huge mistake. During the latter part of the same period, mostly in the first decade of the 21st century, Wall Street and the financial brokerage industry have succeeded in tapping an enormous financial resource to exploit for additional profit. That resource is us. With the advent of electronic trading and widespread availability of the internet, they began offering and heavily marketing to average citizens systems enabling them to venture into trading and investing arenas that were formerly the exclusive domain of the very wealthy. User-friendly online trading platforms for personal computers sporting real time data and charting, provided free to customers compliments of online brokerage firms, carried the lure and promise of making money from the comfort of one’s own home trading stocks and their derivatives opposite the Wall Street “big boys”.

What they didn’t tell us was, the abysmal odds of success of the average citizen day or swing trading the financial markets would be a consistent and lucrative profit center for those big boys, and a cause of financial pain and in many cases devastation for the vast majority of aspiring day and swing traders. Many estimate the odds of a small participant making and keeping profit trading to be less than 15%, and many more cite statistics showing those odds to be as low as 1%. Which begs the question: why would a rational person not only venture into this work knowing she has an 85-99% chance of ultimately failing at it, but stick with that brutal work for years before reaching the point of capitulation and quitting – finally acknowledging to herself that which she had suspected all along – the markets are heavily skewed in favor of the well-capitalized insiders? Within the pages of this book I will provide answers to this question, hopefully doing so in a manner that will overcome the myriad of books, online brokers, internet-based trading-assist services and scammers that promote trading and steer you decisively away from the strong temptation to answer the siren call of trading the financial markets, and therefore protect your cash and preserve your mental, psychological, emotional and consequently even your physical health and well-being.

Trading stocks and their derivatives like options and futures is extremely dangerous, plain and simple. Only the well-capitalized insider traders residing at the stocks, derivatives and commodities exchanges and large brokerage firms consistently profit from that work. And as we’ve repeatedly seen in the years since the dot.com-precipitated crash of 2000, even long term investing in the financial markets can be perilous and detrimental to the longer term financial security of the average “outsider retail” investor. It is a myth that long term investing in the stock market is the best route to financial security and independence in your retirement years, a myth that is continuously propagated by the financial planning and brokerage industries. The crashes of 2000, 2001, 2002 and 2008-2009 that caused devastating portfolio value setbacks for the average investor provide ample proof of this.

Casino Wall Street recounts my experience of trading the markets for seven years, and of losing a small fortune in the process before finally giving up. Aside from the dismal odds of success for the average “outsider” trader/investor, all that I discovered about Wall Street should convince the reader that the financial markets in general, and Wall Street in particular, are nothing more than giant slot machines, and like any casino they are the very worst places in which to trust your money. In fact, you’ll learn that the word “trust” has no meaning and doesn’t exist in the vocabulary within the Wall Street culture and it’s practices. This book ends with a discussion of alternative investments that are very profitable and far better and safer than anything you could hope for struggling to extract and keep profit from the Wall Street insiders.

In Chapter One I provide an overview of what the financial markets are, how they work, and it covers some important reasons why it is so difficult to extract net profit when actively trading them. Chapter Two discusses the enticement, and the dangers of trading the so-called “derivatives” – options and futures contracts. After my first year of trading realizing a modest profit, it was these much easier to trade but treacherous leveraged trading instruments that portended the “beginning of the end” of my ability to profit in the financial markets for the remainder of my ill-fated trading career. Hence the title of Chapter Three, where I digress and for that and the next three chapters discuss in detail the many reasons why it is practically impossible for well over 90% of aspiring traders to succeed in this brutal business. In Chapter Six I return to my own experience to illustrate and drive home the toxic psychology and mental torment that is routinely evoked by the exercise in futility that is trading.

In Chapter Seven I discuss those alternatives to the financial markets that are consistently moderately to very profitable and light years safer. Finally, this book concludes with an epilogue that acknowledges the worst kind of loss that is a consequence of feeding the Wall Street monster (it is not financial), and ends with a plan for an American future without Wall Street that all of us can and should carry out to successfully rid ourselves of the monster.

Read more about Casino Wall Street: A Trader’s Seven-Year Education in Delusion and Deception and Mario Cohen HERE.

Copyright 2010 Mario Cohen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

At the station lot, they quickly spotted the Mustang and got themselves organized to begin their trip Down East. They’d already put a change of clothes in an overnight bag and stowed it in the trunk. Before anything else happened, Cam loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, and put his jacket on the back seat. He was all set. “Ready to travel, ma’am?”
“Ready, driver.”
Considering that they were in the midst of Friday rush-hour traffic, and that sunset was at a little after eight o’clock, they might run out of daylight before they got to Sturbridge. Didn’t matter. The evening and tomorrow were theirs to spend any way they liked.
When they were on a stretch of I-86 that had been completed, Cam let his ‘horse’ run. “Handles eighty, eighty-five pretty well,” he said.
“That is, until a state trooper spots you. Guess you like driving fast. It’s a part of your persona that I haven’t met.”
“I’m kinda short, so it makes me feel taller. No? Then let me try something else. I’m in a big hurry to get you into bed. Hmmm. Guess not. Seriously, do you want me to slow down?”
“Please? I’m not used to riding with Mario Andretti. If we’re fortunate enough to get there in one piece, we’ll be able to enjoy the treats that’ll be available later on.”
Cam pulled into the Drover’s Inn at a little after eight o’clock. They’d made exceptionally good time. After they checked in and had changed into something casual, they went off to find the Tricorn Tavern, a place recommended in an area guide supplied by the motel. It turned out to be a pretty good choice. The decor was colonial, the drinks tasty, the food appetizing, and the prices reasonable. It wasn’t quite high season yet.
“Back at the motel, Vicki asked, “We still have tomorrow ahead of us, but can you guess how I feel about our trip so far?”
“Let me try. You’re miserable and want to go home. Tonight.”
“You silly, lovable man. I already have such good memories to take back with me, but I’m really anticipating a wonderful day tomorrow. Everything is so different in the spring. It’s such pretty country and there’s so much history. I could easily live here.”
“It’s an option then, after your project is finished?”
“Certainly is, but it’d only work if the man in my life, the anchor I need, is here to teach me how to be a New Englander.”
“How would I know much about that? I was born in the Hawkeye State and lived in California for years. But we might turn out the lights and try studying some lessons together.”
“Wonderful idea, professor. Maybe there’d be time for another one before we leave in the morning.”
And there was. The complete privacy they had in this distant setting seemed to enhance what they shared.
After breakfast, Cam asked, “Ready to do The Village again?”
“I’m ready for whatever involves you, my love. But, yes, you know I am. We promised that to each other six months ago.”
They parked in the lot at Old Sturbridge Village, bought their tickets, and spent hours wandering the two hundred or so acres that took them back in time to the early 1800s. When their breakfast wore off, they ate at the tavern on the Village grounds. An enjoyable outing, but Cam could see that they’d get back to Sudbury later than planned. “So what,” he thought.
After they’d worn themselves out walking what seemed to be miles, they drove to the lots that Cam showed Vicki last fall. At the big granite outcrop they’d climbed over the last time, the laurel was in bloom. Vicki remembered it, and said, “The waxy leaves and the white and pink flowers are just beautiful. I’d love to somehow take one of the little plants back with me.”
“Not sure it’s true, but somebody once told me they’re protected and you can’t disturb them. I said in November that they’d be in bloom-just for you. But, if you want to see them again, you’ll have to come back. They bloom every spring. ”
“Will we be then what we are today?”
“Let it go, Vicki. We’re here to enjoy the day, not predict the future.”

After they’d walked the lots again, they went down to the cottage where they’d parked. It was just beginning to sprinkle, so it was time to get inside. To his surprise, there was a single bed of sorts in the living room. Cam assumed that the previous owner had left it behind. Vicki saw it and said, “Make love to me here. I want it to be among my memories of your place in the woods.”
And they did. Then it wasn’t but minutes after they were dressed that there was a knock at the door. They glanced at each other. Neither of them had the faintest idea who it could be. Cam looked out and saw that it was his broker, Owen Thorpe.
“Hi, Cam. Didn’t recognize the new car, but I remembered your vanity plate and thought I’d say hello.”
“Hello, Owen. It’s been a while. Just checking the place over to see if there’s anything I left behind. I was about to come over to your office to give you some money and sign the contract on the lots.” Cam didn’t especially want him to see what had been going on. The little bed was a mess, and he might assume that it was their doing.
Then it started to rain. “Could I come in?” Thorpe asked. “I’m getting wet.”
“Sure. It’s drier in here.”
Owen saw Vicki and said hello. It was obvious to him that since Natalie was gone from the scene Cam had wasted no time finding a romantic interest. It was easy to see that Owen was taken with her. Few if any young women in the area matched her beauty, and Owen’s lust was on display. Cam finally introduced them.
“I won’t keep you,” Owen said. “I’m on my way back to the office, and I’ll get your file out so we can finish up our business. See you in, what, about half an hour?”
“Less than that, I should think. We’ll be pretty much right behind you. I’ve gone through the place once and only found a couple of things that were mine. Just give us a few minutes.”
After Owen was gone, Vicki said, “Did you see how he looked at me? He practically undressed me on the spot. The guy’s a lecher.”
“Not to worry, love. I’ll be that knight in shining armor you’ve referred to in the past.”
Before they left, Cam made one more pass around both levels to make doubly sure that he’d gotten everything. When he came back to the upper floor, he couldn’t find Vicki. The rain had stopped, so he assumed she’d gone outside. He found her on a landing about halfway down the long set of steps that led to the pond below. She was staring intently at the stream that was cascading downward alongside the stairway. But there was more to it than that.
“Vicki? What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer. When he went down to see if she was OK, he found that she wasn’t. Tears were streaming down her face.
“Talk to me, Vicki.”
“This is so beautiful, so serene. I just love it here. But I’ll never be a part of it, never share your retreat on that snowy night that I’ve always dreamed about. I’m certain of it.”
“What you’re saying is you’ve decided that in time you’ll cut me, and this, out of your life. That means you’re choosing the path we’ll follow. I’m not ready to give up on us. If you have, then you should be honest with me, and yourself, and tell me if I’m right.”
“No. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure this is the last time I’ll be here. The thought of that makes me sad, so terribly sad.”
“Didn’t we deal with this same premonition last fall? I thought we decided then that we couldn’t predict the future. If you want answers now to questions about our tomorrows, I don’t have them.”
“Oh, Cam. Just hold me.” He did, and Vicki sobbed. There were no words. Vicki couldn’t talk, and Cam had none. He didn’t quite know what to make of what was happening. But his instincts led him to suppose that Vicki was posturing herself to look elsewhere for a husband. Cam let her anguish run its course. Later, when she’d gotten herself under control, and her eyes were about back to normal, they left to keep their date at Thorpe Realty.
At the beautiful 1800s colonial house that served as his real estate office, Thorpe greeted Cam and Vicki at the door and then asked them to join him at a conference table. Vicki sat quietly while Owen and Cam made the contractual exchange of the cottage for lots 146 and 147 on Hemlock Drive. Cam wrote out a check and signed the land contract that bound him to the buy. After Owen was finished staring at Vicki, he asked Cam if he’d consider coming to work for him. “You’re the kind of man I need to run my companies out here at the lake. Not many capable people around town. Oh, sure, there are lots of plumbers, electricians, carpenters, and the like, but very few men, or women, with a good business head. You’d need a broker’s license. Wouldn’t be a problem. I could help you get it. Think it over.”
“I’m pretty well set down on New York Plaza, so I can’t see much reason to uproot and make the change. If things go to hell, and that’s always possible, I might just come back and talk with you further about what it is you have in mind. I like it up here. But more about that some other day. We’re out of time and have to be on our way back to Sudbury. The boys will be home before long, and there’s no one there to look after them. I try to avoid letting that happen. Thanks for the offer. It’s good to know that you feel I might be able to fit into your operations here.”
“Keep me in mind. We’d work together well. And let me know when you want to put up a building over on your lots.”
“I’ll be in touch when the time comes.”
Ready to start back, Cam asked Vicki if she’d like to drive. “No, you’ve worn me out, or I wore myself out over on the stairs. Maybe it’s today’s excitement or that my cycle has done me in. All related, I suppose. No, it’s your ‘horse’, and I’m very happy sitting in the right seat. If I get drowsy, I’d rather that you have the reins.”
Things change, and Cam reflected on how different this drive home was from the last trip they’d made into Massachusetts. There was small talk then, but this time Vicki was mostly quiet on the way back.
When they weren’t far from Sudbury, Cam finally said, “Penny for your thoughts.”
“Just thinking about yesterday’s meetings, the beauty of last night, and again this morning, and the abysmal frame of mind I let myself fall into at midafternoon.”
“You’re tired, and Monday is on your mind again. It’s a mirror image of the last time you were here. Maybe a recuperative hug will help you mend. I’ll see that you get a couple once we’re home. And let’s plan on eating out. It’s too late to start dinner.”
“That suits my mood. Be good to sit with the boys and open up with them about what we did. And you’re right about Monday. These trips I make are hard on both of us. The arrival is wonderful. The departure isn’t. But I like the idea of a hug. That also suits my mood. And I’ve discovered something. I’m generally ‘down’ after my fertile window closes. As I look back, there is a pattern. Usually I’m too busy to think about it, but when the pressure is off I have time to recognize that I am a bit depressed. Sorry to be gloomy. When I get home, I’ll be angry about having been a killjoy when we have only a few days together.”
“Don’t worry about it. A hug with healing powers will help, and you’ll be back to normal tonight.”
Vicki finally smiled and then squeezed Cam’s hand to show him that she was on the mend. “There you go again. Dr. Gordon’s special medication for an ailing Vicki. I feel better already.”
“Good. Now that we’re home, take that great smile up to number 710 and wow the boys.”
“I’ll show them nothing less than radiant sunshine.” And that’s exactly what they saw.
Afterwards, Cam delivered on his promise to give Vicki his special version of a recovery hug. She trembled slightly, held on, and felt much better following his treatment.
Cam and Vicki each had a drink, and then got the boys organized to go out for Italian, again, at a new place in town called Puccini’s. The owners named it after the famous Italian composer. “I read that the guy in charge of the pizzas is from the old country. He makes them with thin crust and they’re very tasty. At least that’s what the food columnist wrote in the Sunday paper. Want to give it a try?”
“Affirmative responses times three made it a unanimous vote.
After they’d been seated, each of them had a drink and at the same time ordered something other than pizza. Later, when they’d finished, everyone said their meals were good. Just as important, they all had a good time. The dour mood of late afternoon was greatly improved.
After the lights were out, Vicki thanked Cam for helping her overcome a bad case of the blues and followed it with a loving at its affectionate best. The two weary lovers then kissed softly and slept like embracing logs.

Sunday, Vicki’s last full day in the East, dawned bright and cheerful. Her frame of mind was back on track and equally sunny. She apologized again for having been morose before they started home yesterday. “My trip is so short. Every hour should’ve been filled with happiness. I let you down.”
“Forget it. We’re fine now. Let’s enjoy the time we have left.”
They relaxed and achieved their objective. It was a good feeling. Late in the afternoon, Cam and Vicki took drinks to the terrace and watched the sailboats out on Long Island Sound. No discussion about where their lives were going, or world affairs, or any other matter of substance. It was a time to unwind and just be themselves. It worked. It could be Vicki had concluded that this would be her last trip, that her plans for a life with Cam Gordon were destined to fail, and that she might as well enjoy these last moments with this man she cared about so much. It might be interpreted as a sense of relief that the future was now clear to her. If so, she was still well ahead of Cam and what direction he would allow his personal life to take. But there, too, his cautious approach to relationships was defining the path that would be his into the foreseeable future. He enjoyed the company of different women at different times, and until he was as certain as humanly possible about th
e next Mrs. Gordon, he would let the future unfold by itself. There would be no plan, no goal, and no target date. Cam had just turned thirty-nine, was in good health, virile, and in no rush to remarry. His sons, at least Jon, looked at the future rather differently.
As afternoon faded into twilight, Cam and Vicki put dinner together and then had a family meal on the terrace. The weather was exceptionally warm for late May, so it was a pleasant evening they shared, Vicki’s last in New England. The boys enjoyed it, but they were also looking forward to seeing Cris tomorrow afternoon.
That night, and early the next morning, Cam and Vicki said their goodbyes with the same fervor that had always been there. Later, they all had breakfast together and not long afterwards the two of them left for Kennedy. Vicki hugged the boys, told Jon she was proud of him, and then she and their dad were gone.
As with Veteran’s Day last November, Memorial Day traffic was lighter than on a regular weekday. Even so, it was busy because it was perfect beach weather. They arrived at JFK in plenty of time for Vicki’s flight at noon. After she’d checked in, they went for coffee.

Read more about A SEASON OF TRANSITIONS and R. M. Gibson HERE.

Copyright 2010 R. M. Gibson. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

You Don’t Know, What You Don’t Know

Have you? Were you? Did you?

Grow up • in a dysfunctional family?

• Suffered a period of depression or hopelessness?

• Been betrayed by someone you trusted and loved?

• Experienced sexual abuse by a person in authority?

• Battled a fight against alcohol yourself or with a loved one?

• Questioned the existence of God?

• Asked why bad things were happening to you?

• Suffered more than you felt you could bear?

• Experienced the grief of family death?

• Lost all your financial life savings?

• Want to be happy?

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then I am just like you.

That’s good news. Why?

Because you can transform all those perceived negatives into a diamond you love. I am living proof, and if I can do it, so can you!

Don’t believe the lie that it is impossible to be happy if you have a history of suffering any kind of tragedy. Don’t believe the lie that transformation is impossible. Don’t believe the lie that you can’t be happy with all these perceived imperfections in your life story.

Don’t believe the lies! Believe EVERYTHING you now define as bad in your life, CAN and WILL be transformed into something GOOD. They will become unexpected gifts for you to appreciate, and treasure, with continuous happy gratitude.

One of the most important historical events of our time was when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon. How did he get there? In a rocket that was on course only 2.5% of the time! But he still made it to the moon, because the rocket and other pilots were open and willing, and accepted that they had to keep adjusting course along the way to arrive at their final destination. Th e goal and outcome of that goal was important enough for them to be humbly flexible and willing to adjust rocket settings. They didn’t wait until they were 40% off course to get back on the correct coordinates.

What got them there then?

They had the skill set, equipment, and tools to readjust their direction quickly, and so will you. That’s what you’ll learn here the skills to maintain and readjust your course to arrive at your well deserved destination of healthy happiness.

With a million self help, recovery, and motivational books on the shelves, why should you read this one?

What could possibly be different about The Sky is Green and the Grass is Blue? How will reading this particular book truly change “my” life?

I often asked myself these types of questions when I wandered through the shelves of books I’d grab to buy and devour when I first began this initial quest for these exact same answers in my own life. It is now my honor and privilege to pass on this knowledge to you. To transparently share this passion that I began years ago, has not left me disappointed right up to this very moment. In fact, the healing, hope, and happiness I feel inside has only grown bigger, brighter, and more powerful. And so have the results – or the rewards of freedom and peace within the entity called “me.” I learned how to make this happen and last with the tools I’m about to give you in the following pages.

Your happiness does not have to come from other people’s minds any longer! What others say or do has nothing to do with you. It actually has more to do with them, and how they think, act, believe, and perceive.

Genuinely enjoying your own company is possible, regardless of outside circumstances. Yes, authentic freedom is just around the corner of these pages.

Doesn’t that feel great?

I may not be academically approved like Dr. Phil, or a rich and famous Oprah, or possess that “listen to me” media power of Bill O’Reily, but most of us don’t. What I do bring to the table is the proof and evidence that anyone who seeks to live in peace, on purpose, and be happy regardless of outside circumstances, can change their life for the better.

These tools can offer you hope and genuine, lasting change. Change to be a happier and healthier person every day of your life, not just
when situations seem to be going your way. Believe that you too can be the best person you were created to be.

Perhaps this search for peace and happiness has only been the ghost of a possibility. A feeling in your gut, or an intangible dream,
something you could only grasp at but never really hold. You WILL change for the better, I promise, beginning with this very moment, with this very word you are now reading. In fact, it’s already begun…

Do you want to be genuinely happy? You can.

You will learn about tools in this book that you may never have known about. I certainly didn’t until someone told me. The goal of this book is to guide you to these resources that can give you the lasting happiness you seek. This is why The Sky is Green and the Grass is Blue is different from other books. This is a tried, tested, and proven ‘walk the talk’ guide by yours truly. I am here to tell you that achieving lasting happiness with these methods is an opportunity of transformation you will keep forever. Isn’t that what we all want in life?

To be so happy and peaceful on the inside that it doesn’t matter what the heck is going on around the outside. To be free to detach from the negative or often nasty comments people can hit you with unexpectedly. To be able to deal with the inevitable unexpected bombs that crash down in your life, no matter how hard you try to avoid them.

Would you like to repel these negatives in your life, like water that effortlessly rolls off the back of a duck? Unfairness of people, places and things in this world does not have to stop you from living your God-given dream.

This is what you will find in these pages. A stable, consistent set of tools and resources that you can depend on like the impenetrable consistency at the bottom of the ocean to get you where you want to be.

“How could this be a lasting change for me?”

Look at nature. Does the death of winter bring the birth of a new spring? Does the pruned-to-a-nub rose bush come back with more flourishing flowers the following year? Is it possible for a crawling caterpillar, once transformed in its cocoon to become a butterfly, regress back to its original state? No, these changes, which appear to be lasting death, are in fact transformations to a fresher, better life. This is what is going to happen to you.

How would you like to turn everything that you now define in yourself and your life as “upside down” and negative, and transform it into something positive and “right side up?” How great would it be to know your perceived setbacks are disguised gifts towards the horizon of your greatest comebacks?

It’s true!

We will use the tools shared in this book to make the very same pile of manure you hate, into rich fertilizer you love, and regularly utilize it to grow your garden of happiness. Discovering and transforming that “mess” of unhappiness you find so painful to accept, and realizing there is a way for you to change it all into a miracle of personal freedom and lasting happiness, is possible.

Here’s an example of trash before, and treasure after, transformational results you can expect to receive after using these new tools.

Before (you have) Transformed to… (you get) After

Anxiety Peace

Confusion Confidence

Fear Faith

Doubt Trust

Resentments Forgiveness

Selfishness Purpose

Anger Acceptance

Pride Humility

Depression Joy

Arrogance Openness

Bitterness Gratitude

Dishonesty Integrity

Lies Truth

Manipulation Detachment

Despair Hope

Hatred Love

The Sky is Green and the Grass is Blue was created for you. Why?

Because I want to give you everything I wish someone else had given me years earlier. How much more time could I have enjoyed? How much more energy could I have directed towards things of purpose and meaning? How much more peacefully could I have lived my life? What else might I have accomplished? What gifts did I never see in my life that could have enhanced my ability to appreciate my life? Yes, this transformation of turning your upside down world right side up will help you be truly happy. This is my purpose, my wish, my prayer, especially for you.

Where ever you go, there you are.

Why not take these positive transformations with you in everyday interactions with your friends, family, co-workers, and relatives. Trust that you’re able to transform anything from green sky to blue… And once you are transformed, everything around you is transformed along with you. Don’t waste another minute on needless suffering. Take courage, “be steadfast,” have hope! “The diamond cannot be polished without friction, nor man perfected without trials.” Confucius

You already own a diamond of happiness, and that would be – YOU!

Happiness is already in there, inside of you, screaming to shine, otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now. What you may not believe, what no one has shown you up until now, is how to chip away and remove all that ugly stuff that surrounds your personal diamond of happiness.

The upside down problem that’s causing you frustration, misery and keeping you stuck, only exists because no one showed you how to TRANSFORM the mess into a miracle. How to appreciate the very same black junk that’s been stubbornly covering up the beauty of the diamond is the very same material that made the diamond so precious in the first place! The pressure of all that unpleasant looking junk around the diamond is precisely what makes it so valuable, so beautiful, and so unique. The same is true for you.

Take comfort, join me on a journey to appreciate, remove, and replace all the black charcoal surrounding the diamond called you, so we can release your own personal dazzling sparkle and shine. Nothing in your life will go to waste.

Even in the midst of a pouring rain storm, you can make a beautiful bright rainbow. Sometimes, the greatest winners in life have lost
now and then, causing them to later rise higher, and become a true record breaking champion.

Exercise:

Write down each letter in your first name, and think of something you are grateful for about yourself right now, in this present moment; something about you, something you have, someone you have in your life. It could be any person, place, or thing.

Here is my example:

D Determination to keep a promise.

E Enthusiasm to write this book, and share these tools with you.

B Belief that anything bad can be transformed into something good.

Now, your turn;

_____________________________________________

____________________________________________

_____________________________________________

____________________________________________

____________________________________________

CONGRATULATIONS!

Your diamond is starting to sparkle with deluxe dazzle, super sensational, beyond beautiful, fine shine.

People don’t change because they see the light, people change because they feel the heat. Pain can motivate you to change for the better. If pain can lead to a good thing, anything can be transformed to bring you a happier good life.

The success of this plan, of course, requires something from you. Yes, indeed, you’ll need to bring one piece of “action” into your silent reading of this book on a regular basis. Without it, you can’t ever possibly get the happiness you seek, so listen carefully. You are required to bring an active acceptance of this simple statement. YOU DON’T KNOW, WHAT YOU DON’T KNOW.

You must firmly believe this fact, really believe this statement in the very depth and core of your heart. You will have to accept that out of all the knowledge in the world, this huge planet of data from the beginning of time until this present moment, from every human being that’s ever walked the earth, every book that was ever written, every course ever taught, every invention ever created, out of this whole enormous pool of information, you only know a very little itty bitty tiny sliver of it. You may possess merely a speck of this knowledge and truth, an eyedropper full in the mass of an ocean. That’s all you know. Th e simple truth is that you don’t know what you don’t know. Humbling, isn’t it?

Once you accept that you don’t know what you don’t know, you are open to receive.

The transformation process hinges on this, because it allows you to be open to receiving the gifts along this new journey. Every time you read a thought or a page that brings up your defense mechanism, sarcasm, or cynical inner voice, you need to be actively involved in the process by telling yourself to remove any preconceived notion in your head. Read onward, and repeat these words…”but I don’t know, what I don’t know.”

There’s enormous power in that statement, because the words allow fresh space for you to replace the void with the ability to learn, and listen. This is the only way you can possibly ever change. You must first change your thoughts before you can expect to change your behaviors.

Consider that you are not seeing things in your world as they truly are; you are seeing them as you are, through the filter of the interpretation of your personal life experiences in your own mind and emotions. My friend, you must at least consider that your thoughts have been color blind in the past, blocking you from noticing the vibrant colors of truth in the present moment. Th e sky may have looked green to you, but the true color has always been, and always will be, a beautiful shade of your favorite blue. Doesn’t the idea of having your “thinking vision” corrected feel exciting?

Imagine being your own best friend?

I mean, after all, you do spend more time with yourself than anyone else, don’t you? Why not ENJOY your own company? The very fact that you desire to be happy is a sure seal of the promise to receive it.

The only map that can lead you to that place called “happiness,” is a willingness to believe it and receive it. You want to go there, to get there, and to live there so desperately you can taste it. Remember George Bailey in the 1946 movie, It’s A Wonderful Life? He got what he asked for – relief from all his troubles, “I wish I had never been born.”

But the irony of his being able to see what life looked like without him in it was a total disaster! By the end of the movie, he realizes what he thought to be true was completely wrong, and he really did have a Wonderful Life.

Shaking in desperation, he finally begs out loud, through the heavy falling snow battering his broken heart, “Dear God, I want to live again, please Lord, let me live again.”

You are going to live again too, fully alive, in your best version possible. You are going to star in your own life’s movie with more zeal than you thought possible, imagined, or dreamed. And the academy award goes to YOU, living an authentic, happy, grateful, purposeful life with lasting love.

The following story breathes life into these thoughts. I call it The Donkey Story.

“One day a farmer’s donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally he decided the animal was old and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn’t worth it to retrieve the donkey. He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement, he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well, and was astonished at what he saw. With every shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey did something amazing. He shook it off and took a step up. As the farmer’s neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he shook it off and took a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was struck with amazement as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off .” Author Unknown

Life is definitely going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of your troubles can be transformed from obstacles into stepping stones. You can get out of the deepest wells solely by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up. Who doesn’t have troubles?

Who doesn’t have a skeleton or two in their life history? Who hasn’t been hurt, betrayed, or treated unfairly? Who doesn’t have a problem they pray would go away? I promise you, everyone has had something they regret having happened to them, or has done something they regret having done to someone else. We all feel pain and sorrow, just like that donkey at the bottom of the pit.

Not everyone has the tools to understand how to take the dirt of disaster thrown on them, and transform it into the stepping stones that can bring us to complete freedom.

The key to the end of the donkey story is that when the donkey released himself from the pit, he ran off , totally free. Had he never entered the pit and overcome his trouble, he would still be tied up and owned by the farmer for the rest of his life. He would have remained a slave to the farmer and never known the difference. His horrible disaster brought him the complete freedom he could never have achieved without it. This is the key: if you have a mess in your life, you have a potential miracle as well.

It only benefits you to keep your mind open at all times. Your mind is like a parachute – it only works when it’s open. Keep your mind and heart open like the parachute, and I promise you’ll travel to your new beach home on Peace Island with miles of serenity sand. Wait until you see the spectacular new view from here!

You can’t unscramble those scrambled eggs. Why waste a good worry?

There is great power in the now. Give up the hope of a better past, and start focusing your time and energy on a better present moment, right now.

We may not be able to control the direction of the wind, but we can always adjust the direction of our sails. Don’t be afraid of change; be very afraid of staying the same.

Exercise:

Imagine you are now on your new home of Serenity Island. Walking on peace beach, you discover Aladdin’s Lamp. Curious, you open the cover to find a real life Genie inside. He powerfully emerges out of the lamp growing larger than life, and asks you if you want to be happy? Of course you answer, yes! He tells you to answer the following questions before your wish can come true.

1. What are you doing when hours pass by like moments?

This is your purpose.

____________________________________________

2. When do you feel most at peace and when do you feel most confused?

This is your task to transform.

____________________________________________

3. Are you willing to let go of your confusion, replace it with your purpose, and transform yourself to find everything you seek?

This is your happiness.

____________________________________________

He tells you, sometimes it is harder to let go than to hold on, and leaves you in a gentle breeze of hope.

Take courage! You’re worth the effort!

You are now going to find many treasures and KNOW what you DID NOT know, to be truly happy from the inside out. Existing in a safe place where no one can steal your joy.

Congratulations!

Get ready to celebrate transforming yourself into the unrepeatable, super fabulous diamond of a person, called – YOU.

Copyright 2010 Deb Scott. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

The “Green movement” religion is leading the global governance call in part to promote population control. It is full of radical animal rights and environmental groups that promote a belief that all life forms are divine or a potential god. Paganism is at the heart of the issue. In their view, society must turn away from outmoded monotheistic religions and turn towards a one-world government capable of caring for the planets non-human resources. Their view is omni theistic and is clearly against any monotheistic concept such as Christianity, Judaism and Islam, which are seen as an assault to the earth with their pro human life teachings. The Judeo-Christian scripture clearly gives man a position of mastery over other life forms. In the first chapter of the Bible you find the following: (Genesis 1:28-30, 3:21) God blessed them (Adam and Eve), saying “be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth and conquer it. Be masters of the fish of the sea, the birds of Heaven, and all living animals on the earth.” And the Lord God made for Adam and his wife garments of skin, and clothed them.

Read more about The Audacity of Common Sense and Scripture and Joseph Russo HERE.

Copyright 2010 Joseph Russo. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

EXPLORERX

ALPHA

Prologue

He ran his tongue against his teeth as the inside of his lip burned and tingled with the sensation of pain. Sweat dripped onto his nose, and his eyes squinted while the metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue. He spit. This is not over, he thought. He squatted down to prepare to attack.

“Aadi! Give it up. You will lose on this day!” Damien said as his tall, muscular form heaved from the exertion of the battle. Then he charged, punched Aadi in the gut, and followed through with a kick to the head. As Aadi fell, his anger built. The time for compassion has ended, he thought. Let’s finish this now! He would fight and kill until it was done.

He stood up at his full height and smiled through the pain. The power of the adrenaline rush from a good fight ran through his huge frame.

“No, you have already lost,” he declared. He charged toward Damien and punched him with a power that Damien never anticipated a blow so mighty that it caused the ground to shiver around them upon the impact. Damien returned the attack with a strike to Aadi’s face. However, Aadi felt no more pain. He only felt powerful, pure, and invincible. He lifted Damien by the neck high into the air. With a tightened fist, he slammed Damien into the ground. With his handheld high, he roared, “It is over!”

Aadi awoke with a rush, still feeling the power, anger, and frustration of his dream. He knew it was time to get up, but he just wasn’t ready to give in to his fate and pack. Getting down, he turned and kicked his bed with a fury still fueled by his dream. He glanced at the snowboarder on his wall, surrounded by snow and mountains, and whispered, “That’s where I want to be.” Aadi did not want to go to space. Why his parents wanted him to go to this camp sponsored by the company they work for, he didn’t know.

He told them that he wanted to go to a sports camp. Hey, I’d even take a technology camp where I could build robots or videogame programs over this, he thought. Space was his parent’s first love, not his. His dad even set up a replica space cruiser in his workshop and made Aadi help him put it together. Being able to spend time with his father was the only reason he helped out, because his dad was always working… always.

His parents were both astronauts and scientists and desperately wanted their only son to experience what they loved about work. He couldn’t figure out why this was so important to them. Aadi scratched his chin while he read the brochure again and then looked at Coach, his brown German Sheppard. Coach wagged his tail so Aadi patted him and said, “I don’t want to go to space camp, boy. I mean, why can’t I go to football camp or lacrosse camp like my friends? This camp is for geeks, but I guess now it’s no turning back. They have made up their minds.” Coach barked in agreement and then wagged his tail harder while Aadi vigorously scratched his ear.

“Well, I’d better start packing,” he said in frustration. He grabbed his duffle bag and quickly stuffed in the items that were thrown around the floor.

He thought about his desire to go to sports camp and pondered how his mom seemed to put him in every sport she could think of, as if she was trying to find something that he would fail at. They all came so easy to him, and he loved them all, which made him what his mother had called “an all-around jock.” If she felt that way, why wouldn’t she let him go to where he wanted to for camp?

He turned to say goodbye to his room, and his eyes fell on Ebu. Coach started to growl at his latest invention, a miniature robot that had an intelligence chip that made it act and talk like it was an intelligent friend. As far as Aadi knew, there was no other robot like Ebu that allowed it to evolve as a human would, so he was proud of his unique creation. Ebu stood about one and a half feet tall, six inches wide, and was collapsible, just the perfect size for sneaking in and out of school in Aadi’s backpack.

Aadi had experimented with all types of devices on Ebu to make him undetectable whenever he took him to school. His mom would often help him with his ideas for Ebu since she worked mostly on experimental devices used for the security department of her company. As Aadi’s eyes fell on Ebu, he lifted a dark eyebrow in thought, “Hmm, Ebu, today is your lucky day! You are coming with me to camp!”

Ebu replied in his musical voice,”Why, Aadi, I thought I would have to sneak into your bags on my own.”

“Aadi, hurry up, it’s almost time to leave, and you have just enough time for breakfast!” his mom yelled from the kitchen. Aadi ran to the bathroom, brushed his teeth quickly, and returned to his room to grab his bag.

Aadi stuffed Ebu into his duffle bag, ran down the winding stairs to the garage, and put his duffle bag into the trunk of his dad’s black and gold Hover Mobile, one of the first of its kind. His dad helped invent it, as well as other flying vehicles marketed and sold by his company. It looked like a regular SUV, but it had the ability to fly about nine feet off the ground. His dad rarely put it in flying mode because in the year 2080, it freaked some of the other drivers out. It was starting to catch on, though, and Aadi decided he would ask him to put it in hover mode before he left for his eight weeks of space camp.

He ran into the kitchen with Coach in tow. “Mom! What’s for breakfast?” Then, he sat at the kitchen island. He watched his mom as she smiled at him with her dimpled and light brown sun kissed face. She winked at him after she selected their meal on the modern-style MegaKitchenator.

“Hey, you!” his mom said as she came over and gave him a huge hug along with a wet kiss on the cheek. “Sit down, and I will get breakfast on the table for you and your dad,” she said and walked back over to the MegaKitchinator.

“Where is Dad?” he asked, as he dimpled up with a smile and leaned on the kitchen island.

“Where do you think?” his mom said with a wink. Aadi knew the answer. He smiled when he pictured his dad, because his dad was the biggest geek he knew. It was obvious to Aadi that his dad was in his workshop, a great lab that reminded Aadi of Batman’s lair. His father would always get animated and loud when talking about a new idea, scientific fact, or some “monumental discovery,” but for all his ideas, his first love was always outer space. Therefore, most of the days his dad spent in his lab were to perfect space travel in some way or another.

He figured that he needed to come up with a plan and absently petted Coach on the head while he bit his lip in thought. The smooth counter surface was cool as he tapped his fingers on it in thought. He tried to think of the best way to convince his parents to change their minds. Working on Mom will be the best approach, he thought. She always has a soft spot for me.

“Hey, Mom, um, why do you guys want me to go to space camp? You know I really like sports more than space stuff,” Aadi said with a bit of a whine to his voice. He pressed his lips together to hold his anger in check while he took his yo-yo gasid out of his pocket. He sat and watched it wiggle, spin, and dance up the line, controlled by a computer chip inside the yoyo. The yo-yo moved in perfect motion as it lit up with blue, green, and purple lights, and Aadi watched it intently, not wanting to give away his mood by looking at his mom.

“Well, Aadi, you won’t be alone there. You’ll be with most of your friends from your school and the neighborhood. You ought to feel lucky since only children of employees that work at TEGRC are allowed to go on this maiden voyage.”

TEGRC: Technical Exploration and Genome Research Corporation, Aadi thought to himself, wanting to roll his eyes. Even the name sounds geeky.

His mother continued trying to sell him on the idea. “You all are the first group around to test the camp and critique it to make it more fun for other kids who want to learn about space travel in the years to come. It’s about a hundred or so kids in total, and the company is so excited for you all. We are excited for you, too” his mom said with a salesman-like smile.

While she spoke, Aadi thought that he should have tried to fail the stupid test, though if he had, he knew without a doubt that his mom would have figured out what he had done and made him retake the darn test again.

“Mom, most of my friends are not going. They are going to sports camps. Only the stupid geeky kids in this neighborhood are going to that space camp, and they are the only ones so happy about it. Besides, I don’t even like Dakota or Damien, and I barely even know the other few kids you told me about,” Aadi grumbled with a frown.

“Hey, the car is packed, and I’m ready for my big breakfast from my hot babe of a wife!” his dad said, just before he bear hugged Aadi’s mom.

“Man, that is getting old,” Aadi mumbled under his breath with a smile in his voice.

“Hey, Aadi, I heard that!” his dad said in his booming, laughing voice while he rubbed Aadi’s black wavy hair.

“Well, your dear look-alike son is trying to plead his case to me so he can ditch Space Camp and go to sports camp,” explained his mom. She placed the plates in front of Aadi and his dad.

His dad grabbed his fork, said a brief and hurried prayer over his food, and shoved the first bite of the omelet in his mouth with a frown on his dark eyebrows. Aadi followed suit and quickly murmured his blessing over his food and stuffed it down in a huff.

“Son, you going to this camp really means a lot to me and your mom. We just knew you are smart enough, strong enough, and big enough to be selected. I know outer space is not your thing right now, but I just want you to give it the same chance you give your sports and your gadget making. Is that so hard to do?” said his dad with that authoritative voice he always used to convince Aadi he was wrong about something. Why does my father always do this to me? he asked himself. His dad had him, because he knew how much he wanted to please them, so Aadi figured he would just suck it up for now and go, but not without a fight.

“Dad, I don’t like the kids I’m going with. So that means I have nothing in common with them, and I’m going to be with these kids for eight weeks! Eight weeks! That is freaking forever! I read the dumb brochure. All they are going to have us doing is simulation crap to prepare us for any hostile situations. Oh, don’t let me forget the greatest part: visiting a couple of boring planets with no life on them. Then, we get to come home and say, ‘Hurray! We did it!’ We have to wait a full three and a half weeks before they even let us go into the space cruisers for a run to Mars and Jupiter. Whoopee” Aadi said sarcastically while he raised his voice.

“First of all, watch your language and your tone, son. Secondly, give it a chance. I shouldn’t have let you play with the space cruisers before I released them to the company, and then maybe then you wouldn’t find it so boring. The other kids need ample amount of time to learn how to use the equipment and to do it safely. That’s why a team of scientists, Counselors, doctors, and engineers are all going on this maiden voyage with you. Now, this discussion over. Stuff that food down, and let’s go!” his dad said in same deep no-nonsense voice he used at work. His dad got up, grabbed his jacket, and headed to the garage.

Aadi figured he’d pushed his father too far and had better follow quickly. He took two bites of his omelet and then rushed down his chocolate milk and ran over to his mom for his goodbye kiss.

His mother grabbed him and held him tight to her chest in a big hug and said, “No matter what, I love you. If anything, and I mean ANYTHING, happens that you don’t like, call me on the telenex, and don’t let anyone know you have it.”

Aadi pulled back from her. He saw a tear in her eye, and he lifted his eyebrows in confusion and said, “Sure, Mom, I will.”

Aadi grabbed his backpack, went to his dad’s workshop, grabbed the telenex out of the safe, and swallowed it. His mom created the tiny round telekinetic device that processed thoughts as a project for them to do together. This was his mom’s only prototype, and she hadn’t made anymore. He wondered why she would have him take the only one.

The pill burst in his stomach, and little computerized cells expanded throughout his blood system and into his brain, which caused him to wiggle from the sensation. The problem was, his mom hadn’t figured out a way to extract it and never released the idea to TEGRC. Again, he wondered why she was so insistent that he use it on this trip and remembered how she had told him to put it in the safe about a year ago and hadn’t talked about it since.

Copyright 2010 LM. Preston. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

MC: If I gave you God’s phone number, what would you do with it?

JT: Well, I’d have to call. Partly it would be curiosity. But another part would be the idea of hooking up to some natural voice speaking in English for the God Energy. There is this thing about God Energy. We’re swimming in it. It’s swimming in us. I’d have to see if I could really talk with this.

MC: What do you think you would say?

JT: Hmm… [pause] …That would depend on when you asked me. If you asked me today “this may be too mundane” but I would want to ask God why so much of our lives, my life, are ruled by money. I do five different things for a living, and the ones that I do the very best are the ones I don’t get to do often enough and don’t get to make enough money doing. I’ve been asking this God Energy this question a lot of times. The last couple of days I’ve been painting the roof of a barn. I make my own hours and all that, but it’s not what I do. It’s not who I am. I want an answer to that question.

MC: If this God Energy gave you an answer, what do you think that answer might be?

You know…I guess the answer’s pretty obvious. It would be: “Hey, I didn’t design it that way. Other people did that, and I may be able to tell you how it’s going to turn out, but this is your trip. You’ve got to do this. You’ve got to figure it out.”

I guess that’s always true. But it’s strange to me that there are so many great poets walking around on the Earth, and only some are making a living. There are so many that are struggling so hard. Yet the number-one-grossing business in this country is weaponry. There’s something there that’s really out of whack.

MC: Would you want to ask God about this?

JT: I wouldn’t ask God why it is that weapons are such a popular business. I know that that’s not God’s doing. I think I know the answer, it is that profit is more important to this culture than God.

A whole culture can be based on profit because people are unhappy. Somehow they think that attaining more will change that and make them happier. Maybe I would ask God what could I do about it. But I don’t know. [Deep sigh]

I could do what the Berrigans did and go into weapons plants and destroy those guns and get thrown into jail. I don’t know if that would answer anything. I really honor them for having done that, but I don’t know if that changes things.

I can try to find time and space to make more art. I do think that a person making a poem, speaking it out loud, even if it’s in their bedroom and nobody else is around, is a very healing thing. I think it’s a very mystical thing.

There is an energy to speaking our poetry, really Speaking with a capital S. I think we have to ask ourselves what is this stuff, this energy, and also really revel in the mystery of what that is.

MC: Is this what you call the God Energy, this stuff that you are talking about?

JT: I think it is. This spirit is in everything. It’s in you. It’s in the bricks. It’s in the trees. And it’s so much more that that. And yet, I really get tongue-tied at this point because it’s…[pause] …this Being, the Big Being is all around, and we’re in it.
When we get caught up in the daily struggle of paying bills, it’s real easy to lose track of that. To not recognize that you’re eating miracles all the time.

So I have a mixed feeling about someone’s saying, “Here’s God’s number, you can just call up.” On one hand I feel like I’m already right there in the middle of it. I should be able to get all the answers. They are internalized. They’re here.

And then again, there’s a part of me that says, “Yeah, I want to not only get the phone number, I want the address, fax number…email. I want to look into this face and see the face that’s behind the face.”

So many times in my life I’ve wanted to see that face in a really joyful way. I’m doing some great dance, and I really want to be grateful about it. Then there’re times when “I’ve been there a bit lately” I want to see this face because I just want to say, “Come on, you know, what is this? Give me a break and make it clear!”

MC: You’re talking about being in the throes of the trials and tribulations of our human existence…I really wonder if having such a number would make our trials any easier. I don’t know.

JT: Well, I think the big mistake that’s been made about God in so many church philosophies is that they think they understand God. They think they know what and who God is and what God looks like. And I think that’s a big mistake right there.
We’re not supposed to get this. It’s supposed to be a mystery. And the fact is that it’s the mystery that I really love. I really love the fact that we can spend all of our lifetimes trying to figure this out and put a name on it. And it can’t be done. At some point, when we see the real vision, there’s just no way it could be explained in human terms. No name would make it. No words could describe it.

It might actually be that if we dialed the phone number, the top of our heads would completely explode!

Copyright 2010 Mare Cromwell. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

CHAPTER FOUR: How the “Unconscious” Works – Understanding Our Etheric Bodies

Higher Selves Quote:

The Thought Form Body is an invisible body that contains realities that have been created through every thought generated by any individual at any point in time. Within this envelope [energy field] dwells many different “yous.” There is the “you,” for example, who lives in this altered reality as an actual energy identity who is poor, who has no money.

This altered reality has been created by you based on every thought you’ve projected dealing with a state of financial lack. This altered reality that is the “you” in a state of financial lack actually seeks to reinforce and empower itself, the altered reality that it has become. This then, quite outside of your conscious thought process, allows that altered reality to continue to grow and manifest its power and its authority over you in the physical form in the physical reality.

“Imagine what it would be like to hold on to every thought you have ever had from the first moment you were born. Imagine that each thought was actual energy that did not disappear but hung out in some energy field surrounding you. And imagine that this thought energy had some magnetic qualities so that every type of thought you’d had over the years drew all other similar thoughts to it, like magnets with the same polarity. Then imagine that all these thoughts, or energy identities, have created actual altered realities in the space around yourself. And as you grew up, these energy identities, and the altered realities they created, became larger and larger with each thought.”

To illustrate the different concepts throughout the book, I will offer many examples in order to make them easier to understand. To do that, it will be necessary in the early stages to oversimplify somewhat. However, as each chapter unfolds, revealing additional information, more complexity is woven into the picture. By the end of the book, you will see the whole of how our lives work, how each individual can take the reins of his/her life, and how to achieve true change. In looking back, however, you will notice how the picture had to be broken out into various pieces before it could then become whole. Let’s begin with an example of how thoughts create energy identities and how these, in turn, create altered realities.

Perhaps you’re someone who has focused on your weight throughout your life. Maybe as a small child you went through a chubby stage, and sometimes people around you would suggest that you refrain from a second helping. At first you paid it no mind, but then your consciousness took it in. You began to think that you were bigger than your cousins and friends the same age. You started thinking thoughts of needing to eat less candy and desserts. You found yourself rating how some friends or family members looked based on their weight. The issue built slowly for you as you went through being teased in school.

‘As an adult, you’ve struggled with your weight, trying diet after diet with limited success. And all this time, you’ve been harboring thoughts about being overweight. These similar thoughts are magnetically attracted to each other, building thought forms such as “I’m too fat,” “I eat too much,” “I’m a failure at losing weight,” and/or “I’m unlovable because I’m fat.” All these thought forms tirelessly develop an altered reality of your struggling with your weight.

Thought Form Body

Thoughts of every type have created thought forms in each of us. They come in all sizes, some tiny and some huge, with many in between, depending on the degree of thought put into them. As the Higher Selves stated in the above quote, the invisible envelope (energy field) around us, the place where these positive and negative energy identities call home, is the Thought Form Body. It isn’t actually a physical body but is instead held in an etheric energy field everyone carries with them. It contains all the thoughts of joy, fear, love, hate, hurt, illness, wealth, poverty, and ideas of the self, others, relationships, work, play, and on and on. All thoughts are held here, magnetically attracting similar thoughts from many sources, thereby building and strengthening all of our thought forms. They create all the altered realities that live with us in our Thought Form Body.

Suspending disbelief for a minute, let’s take this a few steps further by looking at how our mind works. Do we tend to think more positively or negatively as we go throughout our day? Most of you know the answer to this already.

For example, if we wake up feeling good, having had a good night’s sleep, we might think, “Oh, I feel great today! I have so much energy; I’m sure this will be a good day.” And then we go on our way and may never think of it again. Despite feeling really good, we actually tend to spend little time thinking about it. Feeling good helps us focus on the things we have to accomplish that day, resulting in thoughts geared toward those activities other than the state of feeling good.

But what happens if we sleep poorly and wake up with a backache, headache, or stiff neck? Don’t we often express a litany of complaints about it to friends or co-workers? And if a repairman or deliveryman comes by and politely asks, “How are you,” what do we say? If we feel good, we most likely just say, “Fine, and you?” But if our neck still hurts, we say, “Well, since you asked, I am having a bad day, starting with . . .”

The tendency to dwell on the negative outweighs our tendency to think positively, and every day we do so we strengthen those misery magnets. This means that when we look at the balance or the ratio of negative energy identities to positive ones, the scale weighs heavily on the negative side. This serves none of us well.

Drive to Manifestation

“Thought forms are soulless and mindless. They lack consciousness. However, they carry the power of magnetic attraction. This magnetic energy is working 24/7. In fact, it does not just attract our own thoughts but all similar thoughts from many sources, including other people. This is not a conscious act any more than an actual magnet consciously attracts. What is the result of all this attraction?”

“The result of magnetic attraction is that the energy identities (and the altered realities they create) continue to build in strength. At the point that they’re strong enough, they manifest into our physical reality. In fact, their sole purpose is to manifest. The manifestation process from all of our energy identities is what forms our outer expression or, in other words, our lives.”

For example, if it is cold and rainy outside, we may think throughout the day that we have to keep warm and dry so we don’t get sick. We see ads on TV about various cold remedies, which remind us to check what we have on hand just in case. We remember the time last year when we got the worst cold ever and had to miss work. Flu season is here and we plan to get a flu shot. We believe that all schools are breeding grounds for illnesses and have no patience for parents who send their children to school with a cold. We also believe that we are susceptible to every germ with which we come in contact. In this way, we are empowering our illness thought form (one that we already have) over and over again. And what do you know? Despite all our efforts to prevent it, we come down with a massive cold two weeks later and blame it on the time we spent helping out at our daughter’s pre-school.

In fact, getting sick was a result of the altered reality of illness gaining enough strength to manifest itself in our physical reality as a cold. It attracted the opportunity when you were asked to volunteer to read to your child’s pre-school class. This then triggered and empowered your beliefs (based on your thoughts) that you were now exposed to the germs that you were convinced would make you sick. And they did.

“Isn’t it just that colds are contagious? No. If that were the case, every teacher, parent, and student who came in contact with children would get sick. Each individual responds to each situation based on what thought forms he/she is creating for him/herself. That is why some children/teachers have perfect attendance and others are chronically sick or somewhere in between. Of course, this process is more complex than I have presented. But the basic principles are the same.”

Other examples are: If you have a large victim thought form, it will magnetically attract conditions that will make you a victim once more. If you have a failure pattern, the thought forms will bring in situations that will again result in failure. If you bring in mates that make you crazy with their infidelity, the thought forms may keep you in a cycle of betrayal. The process of manifestation will be explained more fully in Chapter Six, but our thought forms are the primary source for the patterns we have in our lives.

Habit Body

In addition to the Thought Form Body, we also carry a Habit Body. The Habit Body is another invisible envelope of energy (field) surrounding us that contains imprints of every thought and every action. Thoughts create energy identities and habit imprints simultaneously. And as the imprints of similar thoughts get deeper and deeper, they become our most ingrained habits. As we smoke/worry/procrastinate/and so on, the imprints/ruts are reinforced again. In other words, the depth of a habit imprint in the Habit Body is relative to how often we have thought the thought and/or acted the deeper the rut, the more automatic and intense the habit. There are no energy identities in the Habit Body, but the habit imprints empower the thoughts and vice versa.

“Have you ever noticed that you wake up five mornings out of seven at the exact same time? Or that you get a cup of coffee without thinking before you start any project? Or that you put on your left shoe before your right one every morning? These are simple, repetitive habits that are easy to see and are relatively harmless in the scheme of things. Of course, we all have deeper and more complicated ones, so it is very important that we pay attention to all our habits. These habit imprints work with Thought Forms to reinforce our patterns. These two working together are in part what makes it so difficult to change things about ourselves with which we are unhappy. The more ingrained a habit, the more we act on it and think about it. The thought form gains power and then manifests again, and then again.”

One of my habits for over ten years was to sleep only three or four hours a night. Once I’d wake up, I would never be able to go back to sleep, resulting in chronic exhaustion. Fortunately, by doing the exercises that the Higher Selves taught us, I was successful at changing this pattern, and those sleepless years are now a distant memory. Now I sleep at least five to six hours a night with few exceptions. I still wake up many nights, but the difference is I go back to sleep. Of course, five or six hours are not enough. Fortunately, I have continued to improve, sleeping seven plus hours a night at least three times every week. Habits can be changed, and you can do it too.

The Overall Picture

Remember that we live as humans in a Free Will Kingdom, that we choose how our lives unfold. If something happens that changes our thought patterns for a day or week, we will empower different energy identities and habit imprints and will, therefore, manifest differently than we did in prior weeks.

One example many can relate to is the unexpected death of a young friend or family member. The new vulnerability we now feel may make us realize that we have been complacent about life. As a result, we decide to focus more on preventing illness by eating healthy food and exercising. We also become more open to telling our family every day how much we love them and perhaps resolve to work harder to be a better person so that there are no regrets if we die young. Were we thinking this way before? No, but we are now. So our energy identities and habit imprints are changing as a reflection of the changes in our thought patterns.

What is more significant, however, is how often we are determined to change only to find our old habits return. How many of us with great intentions find ourselves back in the same place within days/weeks/months? How many times have we had to use the same New Year’s resolution because we didn’t accomplish it this year or the prior years? Why are there so many new diets on the market, multiple no-smoking aids, a myriad of solutions for depression, insomnia, etc? Why are there so many self-help books? Because for all our grand efforts and deep desire to change, we predictably find ourselves back in the same place, having made little lasting forward movement. This does not feel good. There are reasons why change is so hard, and this is why I wrote Choices. We need help to make the changes. There is much more to it than thinking positive thoughts. Let’s take a look at the Law of Attraction.

The Law of Attraction Clarified

Higher Selves Quote:

Thought forms are what carry the impact of what you will outwardly manifest. This is not a process that will be reached through affirmations or through consciously speaking words. For the process of thought forms is one that goes very, very deep. Thought forms are carried from lifetime to lifetime so that the buildup of these “altered realities” is very intense and very powerful.

What exactly is the Law of Attraction? It seems to be the basis of many metaphysical self-help books (including The Secret) and even has its place in some religious teachings. Simply stated, it posits that thoughts are energy and are magnetic in nature. They attract to you situations and people that match your predominant thoughts, whether conscious or unconscious. The bottom line, therefore, is like attracts like. The more positively you think, the more positive your life will be. Every individual is responsible for what they bring into their lives. Is there more to it than this? Yes.

If you have understood the information in Choices up to now, there is a good chance you see that the Thought Form Body information seems similar to the Law of Attraction. Both involve magnetic attraction that brings situations, conditions and people into our lives based on our thoughts. However, you may also be beginning to see that there needs to be more than positive thought to create real change in your life. Of course, there are people who have changed their thoughts from the negative to positive, who have brought more good into their lives than before. But what does it mean for those of us who didn’t find success by thinking positively, yet worked as hard or harder than the others who did? What about those who achieved results but didn’t recognize that what they got was either the exact right result (even if unexpected) or that it was only the first step in a process that would lead them to the final goal? What about the patterns that keep recurring in life despite the efforts to change them? Or the emotional upheavals that make us behave in ways we’re not proud of?

What has been missing in the prior teachings on the Law of Attraction is the fact that it has not been fully understood. The Higher Selves didn’t change the Law. They explain how it works. And there are two misconceptions that need to be cleared up. One, a positive thought does not negate or replace a negative thought. It only empowers the positive energy identities while the negative ones remain to magnetically attract negative situations, conditions and people into our lives. Because we harbor so much more of the negative, the positives we empower through our thoughts are still extremely weak compared to the powerful negatives. In Part II, Choices will describe a more efficient and powerful way to empower your positive thought forms, growing them to where they are increased 1000-fold.

The second misconception is that even if you never think a negative thought ever again, it doesn’t mean that the negative energy identities go away. Once created, the thought energy exists forever. Leaving those negative altered realities in place is what makes it so difficult for us to change. Whether negative or positive, the energy remains in place in our etheric bodies as thought forms and habit imprints. When these are positive, we can rejoice. When they are negative, we are concerned with what we do about them. What we must do is to neutralize the negative energies to render them harmless and incapable of magnetically attracting anything that could hurt us. Neutralizing the negatives and using that energy to empower our light is the key to change and is fully explained in Part II. Again, the Higher Selves didn’t change the Law of Attraction but added details about how it functions. Choices will show you how you can properly utilize it to your advantage.

The Shift From Victim to Taking Charge

Once we accept that we are living in a Free Will Kingdom, and that we are making both conscious and unconscious choices that create our experiences, we can find our way to take responsibility for what happens to us. So the shift goes from blaming someone, something or some event for our problem/s to looking at ourselves and asking, “Why did I bring this into my life?” “How can I change this reality?” Or “How can I prevent it from happening again?”

There is no judgment here. We are not all screw-ups who just can’t get it right. Instead, we acknowledge that we are all experiencing the human condition. Everyone has challenges to face, joys to experience, moments of wonder and moments of despair. What will be explained is the way to be actively involved in how your life unfolds. There is no magic pill to take and presto . . .you have changed. If it took years and lifetimes to develop our patterns, undoing these patterns won’t be instantaneous. However, with consistent effort, we can change our patterns, find what was hidden and untapped, and definitely improve our lives significantly.

In a year from now we will all be one year older. We can still be in the same place, coping with the same issues. Or we can use the simple Higher Self techniques and make this year and every year a witness to us becoming much more of what we want to be. We understand our conscious choices. And now we understand how our own thought forms and habit imprints, through the process of magnetic attraction, work with our conscious choices to create the outer expression we call our lives. Someone else isn’t creating our lives. It isn’t Mother Nature, your jerky boss, or a vindictive god picking on you. We are busy making and playing out our patterns consciously and unconsciously, then, taking what life gives us and handling it as best we can. Now is the time to be in charge, and we can be. We are not doomed. We are not stuck. We are not powerless.

Read more about CHOICES: Neutralizing Your Negative Thoughts and Emotional Blueprints and Janet Richmond HERE.

Copyright 2010 Janet Richmond. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt
Am I Walking Worthy?

Often times I wonder, am I walking worthy of my calling? Am I walking circumspectly and not as a fool? What about my prayer life? Is it effective? What can I do to improve it? Am I studying enough? These are all questions that many Christians should be asking of themselves? It is called self-evaluation. You take a critical, spiritual look at yourself and ask the Holy Spirit to show you where you are weak.

Other questions I ask myself are: Do the people I allow in my inner circle bring me down or do they lift me up? What about myself? Do I encourage others to seek God’s face and to study His Word to improve their walk? What about my light? Is it shining brightly or is it dimly lit?

Every day I strive to honor God and bring Him glory. When I shared these questions with my “first friend,” a fellow minister, he welcomed me into the Christian club or the minister’s club. (I get to pick which one.) He reassured me that God will let me know if I pull too far away from Him. His response was comforting.

I like the idea that I am asking myself all of these questions because that lets me know that I am not spiritually dead. In fact, I am growing and maturing in my Christian walk. I am running in this Christian race because of my deep rooted love for God. He made it possible for me to be alive and well in this day and age. I have lived through three decades which is more than what most people lived to see.

Now, back to my initial question about whether or not am I walking worthy of my calling.  Honestly, I believe that I am. Every day, I encounter situations that can make me or break me. I can set my eyes on God and come out as a victor or I can focus my energy on my situation and come out defeated. I would not want that added stress when all I have to do is give everything over to God? To walk circumspectly simply means that I walk in my Christian life looking for opportunities around me to glorify God.. It means that I look for a chance to share God with others. As an ambassador of God, I look for opportunities to assist/minister to those who are lost and struggling and need encouragement and I look for those who are saved and need to see Christ lived out.Martin Luther said it best, “The world does not consider labor a blessing, therefore it flees and hates it, but the pious who fear the Lord labor with a ready and cheerful heart, for they know God’s command and they acknowledge His calling.”

When God gives you life, He expects you to live it. Not as you see fit, but as He sees fit. His ways are not like man’s and His path is not crooked and wide, but straight and narrow. And your destination (whether it’s on the wide and crooked path or on the straight and narrow path), is truly left up to you.

Copyright 2010 Satara P. Ferguson. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

As I lay inert on the beach, I can feel salt water leaking out of my mouth onto the pristine, white beach. I can hear the chirping of the birds as I slowly raise my head, grateful just to be alive. I look up to see the sun that has vanished; replaced by the large, beautiful moon above. The moon looks like a huge flashlight, illuminating my helpless and achy body with its shining light. I can hear a dog howling loudly in the distance. It is a bad omen to hear a dog howl during a full moon. It represents impending danger, as my great grandpa used to say.
“Am I still in danger or am I out of it?” I think to myself.
I can feel my heartbeats. I can hear the sound of the waves. I can feel the gentle wind against my face. I can also feel the heavy breathing of a good friend sitting right here next to me, reassuring me that everything is going to be fine. My friend is sloppily licking me, leaving his dribble all over my face. His special way of saying that he loves me and that I will be okay. Right away, I start to feel more at ease, knowing that this gentle and golden soul would never hurt me. He reminds me of this mysterious island of Clay Rouge where Gran had taken me to find a cure for my sickness. This dog was in such bad shape, due to injuries that he had sustained. I never anticipated that he would live to be seen again. The natives in Clay Rouge tried to kill the dog because they believed he was possessed by evil spirits. Is this him sitting right here before me?
“How did he survive? How did he find his way here to Tiville? And most significantly where did this dog really come from?”
I can’t shake the feeling that I may have met this dog long before my trip to Clay Rouge. I’m fascinated by this dog sitting right here, looking at me, like a great human being would. His big, beautiful black eyes are so full of life and hope. I can’t help but find strength from his compassion.
“Where did you come from? Where do I know you? Why do we keep running into each other?” I see a heart shaped marking under his chest and faint memories start to surge inside my head.
“Where do I know you?” I say to my friend.
He licks my face once more as if to say: “It doesn’t matter.”
I don’t speak “dog” language but body language is universal even amongst animals.
“Ah ha! I got it finally. It’s you! You are Nula? Aren’t you?” I open my eyes wide with excitement. I get up and sit down directly in front of the dog. The amazing canine’s eyes grow bigger and his tail wags out of control. He lays his paws on my shoulder as if to say. “Yes, you know me from before.”
Soon, I start to remember where and when I first met this gentle and beautiful soul. The memory of the five puppies behind a tree starts to emerge in my head just like the moon in the beautiful dark sky.
I was once stranded on a small island named Bel Soley (Beautiful Sun) when I came upon a litter of five puppies that was left alone. They must have been a few weeks old already because their eyes were open. They were so beautiful that I wanted to take them all home to Tiville with me.
I bent down to look more closely at them when I heard a growl that made me look up. A dog with bared teeth started to run right at me. It was the puppies’ mother, intent on protecting her babies. I got out of her way and kept a safe distance. The Mama Dog eventually calmed down, joining her little ones to feed them.
Soon afterwards, I noticed another puppy the same size as the others, walking towards the rest. I watched Mama Dog block that particular puppy from joining the litter by moving it away from the others. I followed from a safe distance, watching her lay the puppy down behind a large tree, before returning to her brood.
“Huh!” I thought. “What is Mama Dog up to?” I first thought perhaps Mama Dog wanted to move all of the puppies to another place. “Why would she take that particular puppy and leave it by itself? Why would she not feed it like she does the others?”
I found Mama Dog’s behavior quite bizarre. The next day the puppy again came back to the litter. Mama Dog moved the puppy even further away from the rest of the litter. I was confounded. Why would she treat her own baby in this manner? When she returned, I fetched the puppy myself and brought it back to Mama Dog. Mama Dog once again picked up the puppy and took it even further away, dropping it by the beach, before quickly turning back to her other puppies. I thought about this strange behavior. I looked at the other five “babies” and noticed that three were brown and two were white. Mama dog is white with brown spots all over her body while the puppy that she kept taking away looked quite different from the others. The outcast puppy was black with white boots on all four paws, a white tail, a white spot on his forehead and a very distinguished white spot under his chest. He was simply too adorable for his physical characteristics to have anything to do with Mama Dog’s behavior.
I decided to bring the puppy back one final time, hoping Mama Dog will have second thoughts and allow him into the litter. This time she allowed the puppy to stick around for a while, maybe in an attempt to please me or get rid of me, but did not feed him. In fact, I now noticed that the puppy was skinnier than his brothers and sisters.
The night had come and I stuck around to see what would happen next. I watched Mama Dog take the puppy away again, this time to the river, to make certain that the puppy would never return. I chased after Mama doggie.
Rete! Rete la! (”Stop it! Stop right there.”)
Mama Dog stopped and turned, dropped the puppy, and ran away as if to say, “He’s all yours.” So I picked up the abandoned puppy and took him home to my little thatched house where I lived at the time. I named him Nula. Which means, “We’re here.” or… We’re alive or we’ll make it.” I nurtured the little puppy and brought him back to health. The little dog became part of my family.  My own dog Moun welcomed Nula with open arms and treated him like a son. One day, after a storm, I went to take a bath at the nearby river and when I came back, Nula was gone. I combed the entire village looking for him, to no avail. My heart was broken into many little pieces when I lost that little dog.
Today, here he is, the same little dog that I rescued right before my own eyes! He is no longer small but a big, compassionate dog with a golden soul. The heart shaped spot under his chest is even more noticeable today than it was when he was a puppy.
“I know you! I know you! I know you! I know you!” I yell in exhilaration.
My own scream finally convinces me that the dog and I shared a common bond.
“Did you save my life from the furious ocean waves?” I ask.
The dog sits right there looking at me straight in the eyes. His stoic expression doesn’t provide any answers to my question.

Copyright 2010 Lili Dauphin. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

INTRODUCTION

In a recent book, The Friendship Crisis, Marla Paul evokes nostalgia for her mother’s weekly bridge club. She remembers getting out of bed to spy on them, recalls the laughter and “gossipy whispers floating upstairs like a promise…a glimpse of my future.”  That generation “sank roots into neighborhoods like an ancient oak…playing bridge…with the same women for decades.”  No friendship crisis then.
Bridge Table is about the history and pop culture of the kind of bridge played by Marla Paul’s mom—sociable bridge (as opposed to serious bridge). That airy title question—What’s Trump Anyway?—reflects the spirit and the essence of sociable bridge. In a serious game, the question would be appalling—someone might call the director. During a sociable bridge game? Not a big thing.
This is informal history, told in fifty-two “cards” and four “hands” (like bridge) of notes, quotes, anecdotes, menus, recipes, trivia, opinion. Bridge & Me is a sub-theme.
Sociable bridge can be defined as a melding of friendships that last for decades, food, and a stress-free bridge game symbolized by the bridge table around which food is shared and a classic card game played. Its millions of women players are a subterranean sisterhood—uncounted and uncountable.

Bridge Table, far as I know, is the first book to tell the story of sociable bridge. It hopscotches down the paper trail left by the ladies-only bridge club in women’s magazines and cookbooks of the 20s through the 60s, the New York Times, general magazines, and books on popular culture and bridge history.
As a cookbook, Bridge Table is in the “armchair”  category—more about old cookbooks and food history than cooking, more about menus than recipes—intended to nudge readers to seek out old cookbooks and recipes, throw a Retro bridge party, and/or revive the classic menus of ladies-only lunch.
You don’t have to play bridge to enjoy Bridge Table—but women of today ought to learn! Science is tellng us these days that for a dementia-free old age, it’s better to have played bridge badly than never to have played at all.
The 90s were the Retro decade and the nostalgia for her mom’s bridge club reflected in Marla Paul’s Friendship Crisis is part of that whole Retro trend. By the 90s, those same boomer students of the 60s who rejected their parents’ pop culture began   taking up, in Retro, icons of the 50s suburban lifestyle— martinis, steak houses, bridge.  Can a revival of ladies-only lunch and its gender menus be far behind?
In Robert Parker’s mystery, Back Story, a college student of the 60s recalls the prevailing attitude on campus back then. “My father was in the Rotary Club, for God’s sake. My mother played f—— bridge!”  Anything parents did (and they certainly played a lot of bridge in the 50s and 60s) “we couldn’t possibly do.”
That hostility era is all over now and today there is a spurt of 50-plus newcomers to bridge, both serious and sociable. The time is right for Bridge Table.

Historically, sociable bridge is the unwanted offspring of its serious bridge parents—the bridge establishment and the ACBL (American Contract Bridge League). Except for a few golden years in the 30s, there’s always been an unbridgeable chasm between the two kinds of bridge.  One bridge player back in the early days described sociable bridge as “kitchen bridge…the lowest form of bridge life.”
That we (sociables) outnumber them (serious players) by the millions is evidence that sociable bridge players have never been concerned about what their “betters”  thought of them. The ladies-only bridge club has been despised by the bridge establishment (for its casual, chatty bridge game), by the culinary establishment (for its Jell-O salads and creamy somethings on toast) and by moral critics who took the women to task for wasting time on bridge.
Today bridge is thought of as a game for older women, retirees, senior centers. Until the 70s, however, bridge was at the heart of America’s social life for women of all ages—a middle class tradition passed on from mother to daughter.  For college-bound daughters, learning to play bridge was like a rite of passage. If they didn’t learn to play bridge at home, they learned at college. Bridge was rampant in dorms and sororities.
Then came campus turmoil, feminism and Betty Friedan. For young women, taking up mom’s favorite bridge game at college was no longer politically correct. Their mothers, on the other hand, mostly went right on playing bridge with their bridge clubs—unto today. Some were members of three or four  women-only clubs.
Sociable bridge is a phenomenon of popular culture and women’s history. Serious bridge, because it has the American Contract Bridge League to see to it, will survive. The survival of sociable bridge, on the other hand (along with the ritual gender menus of ladies lunch) depends upon boomer daughters taking up their mom’s favorite game so that it doesn’t die off with my generation of ever-older bridge-playing women.
It took two women’s movements of the 19th century merged with a classic card game to create the ladies-only bridge club tradition. It deserves to survive another hundred years.

One is supposed to answer three questions in a book’s introduction—why this book, why now—which I’ve answered. Why me is the third, and why so late in life? What took so long?
I first thought to do a bridge cookbook back in 1960, and actually started to write one then, and again in 1987.  An anthology of popular culture writing, Sidesaddle on the Golden Calf, happened upon at Miami Public Library in 1987, completely sidetracked me into popular culture and the history of bridge. One thing leads to another when you like to hang out at libraries and browse the book stacks! Bridge Table was no longer just a cookbook project and I was hooked.
The problem is, hanging out at the library is fun, settling down to put all those notes you gather into a book is hard work. No one was out there waiting for my book manuscript and so it became my dabbling hobby for two decades.
I made several serious efforts over the years to organize my notes into an outline–usually when I came across some new bit of information that galvanized me for a few months. I did so in 1995, 1999, 2001—only to quit in frustration.
Then, around 2003, I came upon If You Can Talk You Can Write by Joel Saltzman. His 50-short-chapter format in five sections was a light bulb moment. For my bridge book, 52 short chapters in four sections (like a bridge deck) was the answer. I would, however, call them “cards”  and “hands.” Saltzman believes in adapting other writers’ solutions to your own work—so I did.  After that, I knew the book was do-able.
I have no excuse for the years after 2004 except  procrastination, thinking I’ll live forever. Then, in 2007 (by this time I’m 87!), someone suggested to me I’d probably never finish Bridge Table because I subconsciously felt I’d die if I finished it.
Well! That led me to thinking, what would happen to all my books and cookbooks and fifty-two files and boxes of 3 x 5’s I’d collected over the years if I died before publishing the book? Like Marley forcing Scrooge, to witness his own funeral I envisioned my daughter Maria having to deal with the “stuff”   from years of research—putting it all into black plastic bags and depositing in the condo dumpster.
That did it. I resolved to finish the book manuscript by the end of 2008, edit and refine in 2009, and have it in print by the end of that year—or toss it all into the dumpster myself on January 1, 2010.  Despite that generous two-year schedule, I just barely made my deadline.

Because Bridge Table is entirely based on the paper trail found in libraries, what’s missing are stories of real women—recollections of those who lived through the 50s and 60s and hears stories of their mother’s bridge club back to the 20s.
Depending upon response from readers and the energy of this author, perhaps with the magic of the internet, Bridge Table or What’s Trump Anyway?  can be the catalyst for  making the ladies-only bridge lunch part of gender food studies by scholars, and bridge club memories part of women’s history.
A way, finally, of being counted.
Maggy Simony, 2009

First Hand

No one in 1925 could have predicted that by the close of the decade, auction bridge would be well on its way to oblivion.
During the early years of the twentieth century, card playing was frowned upon for religious reasons in many parts of America. Even then, exception was often made for bridge. Bridge, like its forbear whist, had always enjoyed special status—different somehow from other card games. Many churches would make an exception for bridge, allowing fundraising bridge events on their premises.
Middletown is a groundbreaking study of mid-American popular culture, by Helen and Robert Lynd, published in 1929. The town studied was said to be Muncie, Indiana. Comparing newspaper accounts of card parties in 1890 and 1923, the authors found just one such party in a three-month period in 1890, thirty for the same three months in 1923. That figure of thirty, they said, “would probably be greatly increased if more of the informal clubs could have been found and included.”  From the start, and unto today, sociable bridge has been an uncountable activity because of absence of a paper trail..
This increase in playing cards was credited to post-World War I prosperity, the revolutionary 48-hour work week, and changing social mores. A mass of people for the first time had leisure time formerly enjoyed by only the better-off. Playing bridge had spread from fad status amongst New York’s upper class to middle class America. By 1924, according to the Lynds, the bias against card playing had virtually disappeared, except amongst “religious working class families.”

The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book (1927)
Fannie Farmer died in 1915; her name and cookbooks live on. This 1927 edition was edited by Cora Perkins, had the same preface as the 1923 edition, and included most of A New Book of Cookery (sequel to the original 1896 cookbook) published in 1912 by Fannie herself.
It is a very different book from the original 1896 edition, with four times as many salads. And yes, indeed, this later edition includes several of the silly salads that have been put forward by critics as dreadful examples of the domestic science influence on American cuisine.
Heliofolis Salad, for example, combines celery, apples and tomatoes with parboiled green pepper. Dixie Salad is a combination of endive, apples, tomatoes and hardboiled eggs. Rosalie Salad is an odd combination of celery root, canned peaches and pistachio nuts. A cup of celery and half a cup of peanuts: voila, another salad.
The banana salad in the original cookbook is still there, along with Banana Salad II, which is bananas cut in thirds crosswise, rolled in chopped peanuts and arranged on lettuce with sliced tangerine.
Los Angeles Fruit Salad combines marshmallows with canned pineapple, oranges, walnuts and Malaga grapes that have been seeded, peeled and cut in half.
Waldorf Salad, created by the chef of the Waldorf-Astoria is included, and it survives today, with variations, often at supermarket deli counters.
Moquin Salad is an example of a recipe intended, by the domestic science movement aficionados, to take the drudgery out of cooking by engaging the cook’s creativity. Oh, the work involved! Moquin Salad calls for three-quarters cup of grapes that have not only been peeled and seeded, but stuffed with strips of pimento. They are then combined with two and one-half cups of orange and tangerine sections freed from their seeds and white membrane. A quarter cup of finely chopped nuts are mashed into a “large cream cheese”  and moistened with enough French dressing to enable forming into grape-sized balls. The stuffed grapes, citrus segments and grape-sized cream cheese balls are then arranged attractively on lettuce.
Jell-O was invented soon after Fannie published her original cookbook. With its flavors and jewel-like colors, the potential for ladies lunch menus to include congealed salads, aspics and desserts of every flavor and hue was limitless. Decorative jellied salads, says Laura Shapiro in Perfection Salad, were seen as especially appropriate for ladies, “reflecting the image of frailty attached to the women who made them.”  Often it’s hard to tell whether a recipe is for a salad or a dessert. Easy, said Jell-O: if it’s a dessert it gets a dab of whipped cream, if it’s a salad, a dab of mayonnaise.

Electric Refrigerator Recipes (1927)
General Electric created the first widely-used electric refrigerator, and with it published a cookbook, written by Alice Bradley. It is a lovely little book in a cover elegant enough to contain a book of poetry. Bradley compares owning an electric refrigerator to “almost having an Aladdin’s lamp and not knowing the right way to rub it”  and promises that with this book women can make all the drug store favorites. “Why go out to the soda fountain when you can have a chocolate or maple nut sundae at an instant’s notice by visiting your own refrigerator?”
There always had been frozen salads (like gelatin, freezing offered another total control device for messy veggies and fruit salads) but the freezing process had been complicated. Now anybody with a refrigerator could serve frozen salads, while at the same time show off a bit, impress guests, and proclaim that this hostess already had discarded her icebox. This hostess did not have to put a Need Ice card in the window for the ice man, or put up with his muddy feet when he delivered it.
The following two frozen salads are typical, but why freeze them, except to impress upon guests that one owned a refrigerator?
General Electric’s recipe for Frozen Lobster Salad called for combining a cup of lobster (or fish, shrimp, chicken) with half a cup of white sauce and half a cup of stock in which a tablespoon of gelatin had been soaked and dissolved, a bit of salt and nutmeg. Chill until the mixture is thickened. Fold in three-quarters cup of heavy cream that has been beaten until stiff and one-half cup of mayonnaise. Freeze in a refrigerator tray. Serve on a bed of lettuce.
Frozen Pineapple Salad is the kind of 1920s salad that earns the scorn of modern food critics, resembling a dessert more than a salad. Combine half a cup of cream cheese blended with quarter cup of salad dressing. Beat in half a pound of marshmallows cut fine, and a small can of crushed pineapple. Whip a half pint of cream until stiff, fold in. Freeze three hours. Serve with salad dressing and a cherry—pass hot toasted crackers.

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