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
It begins with a single choice
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 couldnt 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 usfrom
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 didnt 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 hed 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 "wasnt
logical." On the odd day, hed sneak off and join me.
The minute hed sit down on my blanket hed came alive, pointing
out all the different birds that flew overhead, knowing the names of each
one. Wed lie back and stare into the sky, breathing in the fresh
air. Id 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 real. He told me all about his childhood and the
world hed 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 hadnt 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. Hed climb
to the top of tall trees in search of nests. When hed find an egg
hed pop it into his mouth, carefully climb back down, and rush home
to put it into his incubator (the one hed 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, hed 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
sabbaticalto step out of all the boundaries and boxes hed
believed defined his life and to regroupto rediscover who he really
It was shocking how easily he quit his joban important and influential
as the general manager of a 30,000 square foot nightclubwithout
any idea of
what he was going to do next. But I think hed 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 hed allowed himself to feel silence.
At the same time, I also had a friend whos 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 Georges 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 theyd 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,
hed come alive in the magic of their song. A room filled with cages,
nests, babies, mommas and papas, was now his sanctuary. Its 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 Id ever seen. Id finally stopped resisting what
was and simply allowed to be
Weve been together for five years now and he breathes his love into
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,
Im 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. Weve stopped
claiming the right to be usto 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 isnt.
Life isnt that complicated. We make it that way. We have so much
power and beauty. Why cant 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 lifes purpose as dharma
or the way. And suggests that when we are on the path of dharma life becomes
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
One of the biggest steps to transcending beauty is when we simply stop
trying and start being.
A great actor, for example, doesnt try to play a role, he becomes
the role and it becomes him. The finest pianists dont 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 dont 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 dont try to be a mother. When you play
a sport or do a hobby that you lovewriting, painting, singing, running,
yoga, whatever it may beand you are totally engaged, you have stopped
trying and youve become. This is where we create. Life becomes effortless
and everything falls perfectly into place.
When Im 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 Im 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 youyou dont work it.