Get Your Hands Dirty

Wheatfield With Cypresses by Van Gogh

Wheatfield With Cypresses by Van Gogh

 

“I am always doing what I can’t do yet in order to learn how to do it.” — Vincent Van Gogh

One of the great sources of pleasure in my life is learning to do new things. Some recent points of focus have been gardening, refining my skiing technique, learning how to make films on my computer, taking a better photograph, and learning some new songs on the guitar.

I love the exhilaration of learning new things; of seeing, hearing, tasting and feeling the tangible evidence of doing something better than ever or creating something that seemed impossible at a point in time.

There’s ONLY ONE WAY to learn how to create something new, and that is through the DIRECT EXPERIENCE OF DOING.

  • You’ll never become a master chef by watching cooking shows on TV.
  • You never improve your relationships by reading a bunch of Buzzfeed listicles (or the most brilliant book on relationships ever written, for that matter).
  • You’ll never learn to play guitar by watching tutorial videos on YouTube.
  • You’ll never create a powerful body by reading magazine articles and or quoting the newest health research.

Because the only way you learn how to create anything new is from direct experience.

People regularly share with me how they’ve “read every book on Law of Attraction,” but still struggle to create the tangible results they desire.

 

My standard follow-up is a rhetorical question…

“What sort of consistent, hands-on practice do you have set up to support yourself in getting better at directing your thoughts?” I ask.

Cutting to the quick, the true answer is always “none.” (And yes, lots of these folks are coaches.)

Bluntly speaking, most people want to be able to tell themselves they’re doing the work (by reading books, watching the show, or even buying the program), without ever following through and getting their hands dirty in the experience of DOING.

If you’re not seeing something you desire come into your life, THERE’S NO MYSTERY AS TO WHY this is the case. (These days, we’re beyond the mystery, folks.)

It always comes down to the same three letters…

Y-O-U.

This isn’t about blaming yourself. It’s about taking responsibility and owning what you create in your life.

People mistake learning about some thing with engaging in the DOING of that thing, even though these divergent approaches deliver vastly different results.

As I mentioned in the opening, I’ve been loving the experience of becoming a gardener over the past couple years. In order to become a master in the garden, you must get your hands (and knees) dirty. You’ll need to kick the shovel in the ground, to dig out the rocks with your fingers. There will be sweat.

my son practices gardening
my son practices gardening

And yes, in the process of doing, some plants will die at your hand as you learn what kills them and what makes them thrive. Simply put, you need invest your time, energy, and focus if you want to experience the thrill of creating something new.

Of course, you could hire a gardener to do the whole job for you and avoid the whole messy endeavor.

But no salsa tastes as sweet as the batch you grew from seeds, harvested, and prepared in your kitchen.

In the salsa you created, each bite is rich with the unmistakable flavor of ZEST. The zest for life. The zest for creating someone new from your own mind and hand.

And for me, this zest is what the practice of Law of Attraction is precisely about. It’s the thrill of seeing my life consistently unfold under my direction, in ways that are better than I expected.

Some days it’s lining up with the perfect parking spot. Other days it’s having a hefty chunk of money show up in my bank account out of the blue. But it’s plugging into the electricity of a life that continually gets better and better and better.

Always be doing what you cannot do now so that you can learn how to do it. This is the only way life works. (In my mind, when you stop this process, this is when you start to get crusty and old.)

When it comes to immersing people into the direct experience of Law of Attraction (instead of just learning about the concepts), I know I have created one of the most powerful environments in the world (and yes, it thrills me a bit to type those words and recognize it here).

The people in my coaching group who practice, who get their hands dirty with experience share their “miracles” with me.

I’ve been sharing my group for $97 a month, but it’s simply time to raise the stakes. I will be doubling the price to $197 in the next week (June 9th) and then raising it from there.

 

Here’s what this means for you.

If you want to shift out of the “learning” lane (the slow boat to nowhere but intellectual stimulation) and get into the express lane of direct experience (where you see the results of immersing yourself in a powerful coaching environment that pertains to your real life situations and desires), then I have a fantastic offer for you.

Become a member of my Law of Attraction coaching group now. Get direct access to the most powerful coaching of its kind on the planet. Get your hands dirty. Bask in the results of your work.

When you join now, you lock in the $97/month rate for as long as you remain in the group. You can leave at any time. Simple. Easy.

Join after June 9th, and the rate is (at least) $197 month.

So there you have it.

 

Drop the excuses, get your hands dirty, and see the results.

If you don’t, you won’t. Again, it’s just math.

Get out of the bleachers, invest in yourself, and get into the game.

 

It’s what you came here for, isn’t it?

 

Join here and check out the bonuses…

 

bestdrew

P.S. My rates for private sessions will be doubling on June 9th, too. So if you want them at the current rate, you can bank up to 3.

Get them here.

 

P.P.S. If you want to come connect with me on my live LOA Coaching Tour, I’ll be in upstate NY on Friday, June 5th, and Redding, CT on June 13th. Please watch the video and register here.

Seeing the Light (The Power of Giving Up)

The long-awaited sunshine and warmth coaxed my bike out of the shed and we were off for the first ride of the season. I rode a few miles over to Vermont to drop off some mail and on the return home, I passed the coordinates for the geocache named Red Rocks.

Red Rocks and I have a history spanning a couple years. In four previous attempts to find the cache I’d walked away skunked.

(Geocaching is a “treasure” hunt. There’s an online community of people who hide boxes or vials in the woods, sometimes with small prizes inside, sometimes just a log to sign. You use a GPS to locate the cache. A fun little hobby.)

Now, I don’t like not finding things and this is the only geocache to date that I’d failed to find. The location sits within a mile of my home, just off the road, and so for the past two years every time I’d drive by the site, I’d be thinking about how this treasure continued to elude me.

I hopped off my bike and trekked into the general area. I pulled out my phone (there’s a sweet app) and started following the compass to where it was telling me the cache was hidden. All ground I’d covered before.

The location is called Red Rocks because it sits on a creek surrounded by red slate. The site is difficult to reach in winter with the snowpack and the icy rocks make dropping 5 feet into the creek a real possibility. In the summer the adjoining field becomes an impenetrable corn maze. So if I didn’t find it on this visit, I’d likely be waiting until fall.

And again, after 15 minutes of searching, I found nothing but a woodchuck burrow and a Snapple bottle.

This thing has to have disappeared, I thought. I could not have missed it all these times.

The app lets people who found the cache previously sign a log book, and so I checked it to see the last time it was found.

October. Hmmmn. Probably still here then.

Oh, and there was a clue… something about how the last person couldn’t find it either until they “saw the light.” Based on the time and date when they found the cache, I tried to estimate where the sun would have been at looked in that direction, but no, nothing. I felt the familiar frustration of not being able to figure something out.

My GPS told me I was within 3 feet of the cache, and yet I was still standing in the field, on the edge of where all the hiding places would be (the trees, rocks, and creek bed).

I decided to ignore the machine and just explore. Immediately a picker bush bit into my naked legs and a vine nearly tripped me right into the creek.

Fuck this, I thought. I’m done. El churcho.

For the first time in two years of looking, I completely gave up. For real.

Yes, this would be a black hole on my resume. A mark on my permanent record. My shame. Red Rocks Geocache 5, Drew 0.

I began to head toward my bike, my intuition guiding me to take a new route through some still leafless saplings.

And you know what happened next.

seeing the light.

I saw the light.

The tiny plastic flashlight, hanging from a wire.

I connected to the awesome power of giving up. I connected to the awesome power of dropping my resistance (to NOT being able to have something I wanted). And certainly, I connected to the awesome power of instant manifestation.

On the face of it, my treasure was a tiny scroll of paper that looked as though it had gone through the washing machine. Worthless in many respects.

But for me, remembering the awesome power of letting go and seeing my desires manifest instantly?

That’s a treasure.

 

(P.S. For reasons unknown to me, I found the cache about 25 feet from where my GPS was telling me it was hidden. That ends up being a large search area.)

(P.P.S. I wrote a whole book about this subject and you might like it.)

Beauty and The Black Album

The Beatles' Black Album
The Beatles’ Black Album

Karin and I were waist-deep in kid-wrangling, trying to get everyone packed up for the day, out the door, and buckled up in the car. The kids were screaming at each other about who got the black spoon or something and so I started yelling too.

Not how I drew things up, but life seldom is.

With everyone loaded (and still crying and fighting), just as I was about to depart I remembered the CDs…

Inspired from a scene from the movie Boyhood, my friend Ted created a 3CD set of “The Black Album” — a collection of the Beatles’ solo efforts.

I ran down to my office, grabbed the discs and we were off to the opening notes of Band on The Run.

 

“I don’t like this!” Alex snorted immediately. “Too slow!”

It builds, Alex, it builds, I assured him. (I’ve been raising him to rock).

He seemed to relax when the guitar part kicked in…

“If I ever get outta here… thought of giving it all away… to a registered charity…”

I certainly felt better about the day with McCartney riding shotgun. The music sounded crisp through my wife’s sound system, the kids settled in, and I noticed the sun fighting its way through the spring clouds.

Things were going to be okay.

 

Next up in the playlist, The Dark Horse. George. My Sweet Lord.

 

The sounds filled the car like a concert hall.

Alex had both his hands clasped behind his head. My kids were calm. Content.

They listened to the music.

 

In the rearview mirror I could see them connecting to the music, thinking about the words and sounds…

Seeing them experience one of the greatest pleasure in my life — actively listening to such great music —  combined with the Hallelujahs from My Sweet Lord, the hot tears started running down my cheeks.

I wiped them away as I dropped Ella off at her school, and they returned for the next 20 minutes of our ride as John shared his remorse at being a real dick to his wife sometimes, George reminded me to let it all go to be happy, Paul gave thanks for having Linda support him when he was in the middle of somethin’ that he really didn’t understand, and Ringo was just so Ringo.

(For me, the brilliance of this Black Album is that you hear the lads from Liverpool as fully expressed individuals. I found myself thinking about how great it was that they broke up so that they could create something new, something true to themselves. They were The Beatles, yes. And yet they were more than that.)

This was an “American Beauty” moment for me — so much beauty coming in all at once that I thought my heart would burst. And like Ricky Fitts videotaped to remember, I write this to remember.

Before dropping Alex off, I checked my eyes.

They were fine.

The tears had washed them clean.