Julie Bond Genovese is an inspirational speaker, workshop leader, artist and the author of her bestselling memoir, Nothing Short of Joy, endorsed by Wayne Dyer, Dr. Christiane Northrup & Dr. Bernie Siegel. She has been featured on TV shows NBC LX, Anderson Cooper Live, & My Fox Boston, as well as radio shows across the country including Oprah.com with Gayle King. Julie mentors spirit-led creatives (and magnificent misfits) on how to use empowered self-expression to transform life’s grief into gratitude. You can download Julie’s free ebook, “Release the Blocks So Creatvity Rocks! A Spiritual Pep Rally for Breaking Up with Your Old BS (Belief System,) Ditching the Perfectionist & Energizing Ginormous Joy” at her website. Her post appears in partnership with MariaShriver.com
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Paying It Forward Ends Up Paying It Backward Too
Rejoicing figure, Cheryl Casey/ Shutterstock.com
People mill about the magazine rack near my cozy chair at Barnes & Noble. In between chapters, I send them silent love bombs. I hope, somehow, their day is brightened, that they will feel unexpected relief. I especially focus on the grumpier sorts, or the two loud women, or the dude who smells of cigarette smoke, or the crying child and angry mum (my personal fave).
On the other side of the rack, a scrawny pair of corduroy legs with a metal cane catches my eye. I feel . . . a bond. For years, I was convinced that my dwarfed, arthritic body could only bring me rejection and pain. Eventually, Iʼd realized Iʼd adopted those practices toward myself. Ouch. I wonder if the tired corduroys have done the same.
Silently, I begin the “Prayer of Thy Healing Angels” from Lorna Byrne. I started this habit a while ago when I realized how disconnected I felt from the world. Iʼd reserved my energy for a small circle of friends and family. But there was suffering all around and I felt powerless to help. I was not particularly philanthropic. Activists made me squirm.
Years of soul-searching, though, left me with a deeper compassion for myself and so a growing empathy for others. Even the chowderheads. The very least I could do was send them light.
Iʼd thought my love bombs would be altruistic. Then a weird thing happened. It was helping me. Comforting me.