Cynthia, a client of The CEDRIC Centre
Disconnecting–with love–is supposed to be one of the secrets of contentment. But letting go is hard, isn’t it? How to stop trying to fix the past? How to stop being crushed by others’ remarks? How to stop trying to figure out what happened, feeling guilty, "needing" people who aren’t good for us, trying to control the future, counting to 10 and blowing up anyway? How to show how well we meant, belong, be liked, be appreciated, make others understand how much they need our advice, get others off our cases, make others understand who we really are so they’ll stop being so unpleasant. How to stop spending our lives wishing everything were otherwise?
Sedona, that’s how. Knowing that you "shouldn’t" be taking something so hard is not the same as being able to. Just as knowing that you "shouldn’t" be worrying about someone else’s choices is not much help either. Sedona teaches the mechanics, the "how to", of not being bowled over, blindsided, overwhelmed, compelled. It disconnects the buttons that get pushed; takes off that chain everybody loves to yank. It decompresses bad situations; lets you take a step back, disconnect, then act or not act. Whatever makes sense. In the here and now. (This is good. This is very good.)
I have a very stressful job. Shortly after I took a weekend course in the Sedona Method, a co-worker took me aside and told me that she had informed our boss that my telephone manner recently changed dramatically from defensive to professional. (My boss told her to tell me herself.)
And it’s true. A fellow called me at work yesterday to express his anger about a letter he’d received from us (me) that he thought was rude. I just laughed, and said we weren’t rude, we were scared (but I was sorry if he thought we sounded rude). He laughed too. Then he gave me what I was after in the letter. This is probably not how it would have played out in the old days.
At the same time, Sedona makes the good stuff stand out too. Like a cat curling up in the sun and kneading a cushion with its toes, Sedona teaches us to recognize the good stuff, revel in it, and expect it to just keep right on coming.
I encourage everybody who unloads on me now to take the course. It seems nobody ever does, but I just let it go.