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The following excerpt is taken from the new book Transcendent Beauty, by Crystal Andrus. It is published by Hay House (April 2006) and available at all stores or online
at www.hayhouse.com

Transcendent Beauty
It begins with a single choice … to be

By
Crystal Andrus


Chapter 4
Just Be

I had first seen George when I was about thirteen years old. I was leaning against a locker at my high school, waiting for my best friend, and about twenty feet down the hallway there was George, leaning against a locker, talking to his sister. For about ten seconds, our innocent little eyes locked and neither one of us could look away. We both felt some kind of pull. Something that we both remember to this day. Funny enough, he even remembers what I was wearing.

But as my chaotic life would have it back then, I never stayed in one place for very long. I moved away and ended up getting married very young to someone else. George and I would run into each other every couple of years and sort of stop and stare, but never really spoke.

Then one night, after my very painful and difficult separation with my husband, I walked into a restaurant with a friend and there was George. My heart did "the dance" that everyone talks about in the movies. I had always known he was handsome but this time it was different. There was something much larger than I could explain happening. I truly believe Divine Intervention was at work.

We couldn’t seem to stop talking during the evening and for the first time I saw him in a totally different light. I had never been so intrigued by anyone. The trouble was we had every possible thing going against us—from me just leaving a 12 year marriage (and the tremendous guilt I was carrying), to him being 35 years old, never been married, never lived with a woman, no children of his own, and no immediate plans to settle down in a committed and monogamous relationship. Ah, the joys
of chemistry.

Over the next year we dibble-dabbled with love. Resisting each other and then collapsing into each other arms, and then resisting again. It was a year of excitement and heartache all wrapped up in one.

At times over the year I would ask him what his passion was. Apparently, he didn’t have one. I told him that everyone had a passion for something. He thought I was crazy, especially when I would talk about making your life a masterpiece and living each day with purpose. He thought that way of thinking was foolish and not the way logical adults lived their lives. So while he’d go off to his stressful job, working 12-14 hours a day, mostly nights, hating what he was doing, I was, many days, sitting down at the lake, reading and writing, living the life that he said "wasn’t logical." On the odd day, he’d sneak off and join me.

The minute he’d sit down on my blanket he’d came alive, pointing out all the different birds that flew overhead, knowing the names of each one. We’d lie back and stare into the sky, breathing in the fresh air. I’d feel his tension drop and his voice soften. I saw something very different than the tough exterior, fancy clothes, fast car, and great body that he showed to the world. I saw something really soft … really gentle … really real. He told me all about his childhood and the world he’d come from. He had taken off his mask and he was magical. This was the man I was falling in love with …

***
When George was a little boy he lived in a very dangerous part of Toronto, where crime ran rampant. He was a shy and quiet child who spoke little English. His Greek parents hadn’t been here for long and they moved to the only area they could afford. But they knew that with hard work they could live the "American dream."

Afraid of most of the tough kids in his neighborhood, he would sneak off to play in the nearby woods, alone. For hours at a time he would explore his tucked away sanctuary that resided in the middle of chaos.

He loved animals, but was absolutely mesmerized by birds. He’d climb to the top of tall trees in search of nests. When he’d find an egg he’d pop it into his mouth, carefully climb back down, and rush home to put it into his incubator (the one he’d saved his money for months to buy). All he wanted was a bird of his own. To him they were the most fragile, precious, little creatures and he was fascinated by them. He watched birds. Read about birds. Sketched pictures of birds and prayed that his parents would buy him one. Loving, but older European parents, they naturally thought his fascination was ridiculous.

They soon moved out of the city to a lovely home, ironically only minutes from mine. They were finally living "the dream." In a nice neighborhood with a pool in the backyard and there was no way he was bringing birds and "critters" inside. Besides, he’d started to make new friends and he noticed that when he talked about birds they thought it was weird. He suddenly thought maybe it was too. That was the end of the birds. He was becoming popular. That seemed like more fun than playing with animals anyway. That was around the same time I saw him standing by the lockers in my high school.

***

After being together for about a year, I gave George the permission that I thought that he thought he needed to quit his crazy job and take a personal sabbatical—to step out of all the boundaries and boxes he’d believed defined his life and to regroup—to rediscover who he really was.

It was shocking how easily he quit his job—an important and influential position
as the general manager of a 30,000 square foot nightclub—without any idea of
what he was going to do next. But I think he’d begun trusting that larger powers were at work. It was the first time in nearly twenty years that he was away from smoke, noise, music, and the single life. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to feel silence.

At the same time, I also had a friend who’s father was a bird breeder and I asked him what it would take to get a career like that started. Within a few weeks, my friend surprised George with two gorgeous, large, wooden bird cages. I saw George’s energy explode and everything about him seemed lighter, brighter, and more beautiful. He immediately rushed out and bought his first few canaries. He then started talking with pet store owners, bird breeders, and within months he had over 30 different canaries all breeding. They quickly began to multiply exponentially. He ended up joining a canary club and was so excited on the first Tuesday of every month when they’d meet.

It was amazing to watch it unfold. George had stopped worrying about what everyone thought "George should do" and started doing what George "knew" he should do. No longer out all night, he began waking at the time that he used to go to bed. Feeding all his chirping friends, he’d come alive in the magic of their song. A room filled with cages, nests, babies, mommas and papas, was now his sanctuary. It’s where time stands still for him. George had finally stopped trying to be George and had surrendered to himself. And I was finally surrendering to him, too. Although George had always been very handsome he had become the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. I’d finally stopped resisting what was and simply allowed to be …

We’ve been together for five years now and he breathes his love into me
every day.


Become the "I AM"

Passion is a misunderstood word. It is simply the thing that stirs your soul and that makes life feel abundantly rich. It is never wrong. It is never right. It is simply is…

Whenever a client asks me if they should marry the person they are with or quit their job, I tell them to close their eyes and to listen to what their heart says. How do they feel when they are with that person or doing that job? Do they feel stronger, smarter, braver, happier and more beautiful? The crucial factor being that they must make sure that they are abiding by their heart and soul … and not by their fears and ego.

All your answers lie within you and no one outside of you can, or should, ever tell you what to do. The greatest therapists, life coaches, intuitive readers, and counselors, should simply help you to excavate the answers already within you. Not to tell you what to do. To be absolutely truthful, I’m very sad that we live in a world where so many of us have handed over our personal power to everyone else, as we swallow our anti-depressants and wait for some answer to our problems to befall on us. We’ve stopped claiming the right to be us—to embrace our pasts and to understand who we are, what we are, and where we are going. Instead, most of us feel numb and disconnected, waiting and searching for some "aha moment" to wake us up. Some guru or psychic to give us the answers. Not realizing that only we can wake ourselves up, accept what is, and embrace what isn’t. Life isn’t that complicated. We make it that way. We have so much power and beauty. Why can’t we let ourselves claim it? Why???

I truly believe that before coming to earth our soul enters into a sacred agreement with the Universe to fulfill certain obligations i.e. your life path. This is why once we are on the path that is right for us everything begins to fall into place. Ayurveda, the ancient system of healing that originated in India, translates finding your life’s purpose as dharma or the way. And suggests that when we are on the path of dharma life becomes magical.

Is your life magical?
Your consecrated pact with the Universe may be to make music that will heal thousands of broken hearts, or write books that will teach and inspire, or it may
be as equally important to raise the child who will sing those songs or write
those books.

One of the biggest steps to transcending beauty is when we simply stop trying and start being.

A great actor, for example, doesn’t try to play a role, he becomes the role and it becomes him. The finest pianists don’t try to play the piano they let their soul create the music via their fingers. Or think about when you first fall in love. You don’t try to be in love, you simply are. Fighting love is what causes us pain, not being in it. When your baby is first born you don’t try to be a mother. When you play a sport or do a hobby that you love—writing, painting, singing, running, yoga, whatever it may be—and you are totally engaged, you have stopped trying and you’ve become. This is where we create. Life becomes effortless and everything falls perfectly into place.

When I’m writing and the words flow, without thought or worry, I am creating but the minute I start getting frustrated, trying to force sentences, I have stepped out of the soul and into my ego. My neck and upper back will start to throb, as they are warning me that I’m no longer speaking my truth. If I continue, I am resisting what is, trying to make it what I want it to be. Creation is a divine process that simply works through you—you don’t work it.

 

 

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