Motivated to Act
Copyright © 2012 Stephen Tako. All rights reserved.
Published by Enchanted Forest Press
www.enchantedforestpress.com
No part of this publication may be translated, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, in whole or in part, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior permission in writing from Enchanted Forest Press and Stephen Tako. The material in this book is furnished for informational use only and is subject to change without notice. Enchanted Forest Press assumes no responsibility for any errors or inaccuracies that may appear in the documents contained in this book.
All images, logos, quotes and trademarks included in this book are subject to use according to trademark and copyright laws of the United States of America.
First Publishing April 2012.
ISBN 978-0-9852070-6-9
Art Direction, Book Design and Cover Design © 2012
All Rights Reserved by
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Book design by Reflection Studios www.reflectionstudiosonline.com |
DEDICATION
FOREWORD
CHAPTER 1
DAMAGED CHILD
CHAPTER 2
BREAKING FREE
CHAPTER 3
TAKE ACTION
CHAPTER 4
A BALANCED LIFE
CHAPTER 5
A FIT LIFE
CHAPTER 6
THE PREPARED ACTOR
CHAPTER 7
GLITZ AND GLAMOUR
CHAPTER 8
SELF PROMOTE
CHAPTER 9
NEW FRIENDS
CHAPTER 10
A CONFIDENT LIFE
To my wonderful son, Alex Tako: May you live a long, wonderful and adventurous life, full of passion. I love your heart and your spirit.
To my Irish mother, Eileen Wereb, for being my best audience growing up and always having faith in me. Thank you for being a beautiful person.
To my Hungarian father, Joseph J. Tako, for sound advice and supporting my path into the entertainment world later in life. And for being the best polka dancer.
To all my family members and friends, whether you had faith in me or not. I appreciate your love.
And to all the readers who have ever needed inspiration to leave their past in the past and to have old wounds healed: I pray you all have faith in yourselves, in God, and that you feel free to live dynamic lives.
For anyone who has ever had an entrepreneurial vision and could not find the path to bring it to fruition: May this book inspire him or her, and those of all ages, to live the confident life they deserve.
Motivation, like love, comes from the most unexpected places. Our experiences paint our lives creating emotional spectrums of color. Crimson hues of passion and pain drive toward the moodiness of blue, while forming golden tensions in between. Suspended like a tight-rope about which life teeters, we search earnestly for green points of balance. Said balance is found in motivation. Motivation evokes motion and the will to affect a cause. These driving forces give us choices. By sheer force of will, one may command awesome life experiences, or crumble under their weight. Finding motivation means being alive: a force quite different from simply living. Being alive involves taking action, taking chances, surfing life’s wave patterns and growing from each movement. Every experience is an action—an opportunity to become better, or to become bitter. To experience life to its fullest is the highest state of being. Acting is a state of being.
In Stephen Tako’s practical and insightful Motivated to Act we find rainbows of balance, courage and strength as we step out onto our own respective tight-ropes. In the beginning, we learn how to heal “The Damaged Child” that we each nurture inside our hearts. Often humorous, although sometimes heartbreaking, we find shelter sharing in Stephen’s pain. He teaches us how to grow stronger from such stormy places, and to use them constructively. I have affectionately dubbed this particular tight-rope, The Tako Method. Stephen cultivates a center of love from a locus of pain, transforming it into a tender place from which to plant love seeds. And he does this in a very real and relatable way.
The soulful and inspiring “A Confident Life” means life without limits, free from the shackles of shame and misery. If we are lucky, we bloom during the spring and summer, coursing our path when energies are high. Luckier still is when we find our life-partner, that special someone who makes life worth living. They will be the person with whom our soul is knit; fully engaged in the realization that there will be times when we cannot see eye-to-eye, but will always be able to walk side-by-side. We learn that people enter into our lives for reasons and seasons. The reasons become clear and the seasons will pass, but how we cope with the transition makes all the difference—as The Tako Method astutely teaches us. When the autumnal chill of divorce perfumes the air, we know that to survive the impending winter will take special preparation and a unique point of view.
More often than not, this separation of souls may cause many to lash out in anger, to inflict as much pain as possible onto one another. But it does not have to be this way! Because Stephen chooses to focus on the positive, he sees only goodness—behold the awesome power of The Tako Method unleashed! As we read during Stephen’s tribulation, he chose a different path, reflecting instead on all the lovely reasons that he chose his wife in the first place. Years ago, these lovely reasons culminated into a beautiful son, a pure gift from God himself—fearfully and wonderfully made! His talent, beauty and potential would not exist without the union between Stephen and his lovely wife. Does it make sense, then, to cause pain when there is no reason? Certainly not! How much more productive will it be for all when we embrace the power of the love availed, and live each moment to the fullest?
Friends, what you are about to read is the key to your enlightenment. As you hold this book in your hands right now, I beg you to take advantage of the opportunity to own this text.. It will change your way of thinking. The shackle-breaking Tako Method is a pattern of living and loving—a guide to a place of “personal acceptance.” For it is only when you learn to accept and forgive yourself, and appreciate your own self-worth, that you become free to celebrate life, rather than simply tolerate it.
One of my favorite items is Tako’s view of success. Winning means blessings and abundance—not to hoard, but to share. Many people never attain success because they have not yet made “room” for it in their lives. Tako’s take on success means “Being blessed to be a blessing” and sharing with others. It means helping autistic children, easing loneliness for the aging, giving hope to the hopeless and inspiring the uninspired. Consequently, failure is not an option; there is too much love to share.
It is no coincidence that the next sections of the book fall along the green portion of the energy spectrum. A blue healing journal for the soul and a red strengthening map for the mind would be incomplete without exercises for a healthy body. Fittingly, therefore, the mid-journey establishes guide posts for attaining “A Fit Life”, which explains in a comprehensive, yet user-friendly structure, how to attain and then maintain a healthy level of vitality. This enlightenment alone would be enough to make you want the book today but, like a big-brother, Stephen lends us his favorite cloak, intricately woven into the useful tapestries of: networking, marketing yourself as a commodity, what to expect with actors’ unions, making sense out of the senseless and so much more!
Terrance O. Mitchell—
Certified Personal Trainer, Fitness Author and True Friend
My father was an overbearing man. I held a lot of resentment towards him for his harsh temper and we had a terrible relationship for many years. It took me three years after moving away to Los Angeles to finally forgive him in my heart and realize the pressures he was under—to understand that he truly loved me and would do anything for me. He just was not able to control his temper often, and it was very hurtful to be the perceived subject of his disappointments. He did not know how to tell me the nicer things I needed to hear, and I lived my childhood mostly being afraid of him. But I understood, after I moved away, that my father did the best he was able with me, and I could choose to hate him or love him.
There was a boy in my fifth grade class who was a pretty nice guy, other than he started pressuring me for my milk each day. At first I was fine with giving it to him, but then when I decided I wanted my milk, I was bullied into giving it away. This lasted for weeks, until finally he stopped harassing me. When I walked by his open casket about eight years ago, I whispered in to him, “I forgive you for the milk.” I finally felt closure. Hate eats away at you forever. Forgiveness is like the blossoms of spring, and it renews life in your soul.
I was a child when these occurrences happened, but the life of our inner child still lives within us. From time to time it needs to be heard, but we have to remember it still thinks like a child. It represents the weak person, the strong person and how our character is built today.
Stephen Tako, 3rd grade, Liverpool Elementary.
We can ignore or try to forget our past, but our circumstances in life made us who we are today. We pull from our past experiences to help us cope with modern day events. The inner child has its place in our lives, but we must remember to limit its power on us as adults.
I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone who said his or her childhood was perfect. We all have memories of someone who has done us wrong, someone who hurt us one way or another in our youth. But it is time to forgive and move on with our lives.
We have been hurt, but it doesn’t need to hurt anymore. Some of the people who hurt us were just children themselves. And if we keep carrying that pain, we are still giving power to those mean kids and bullies. And what happened to those kids? They grew up as well and are dealing with their own problems and their own inner child influences.
Now some of us had to deal with problematic adults who hurt us too. But I like to think that everyone on this earth deals with life the best way they know how. The adults that hurt us were responding to the circumstances dealt to them in their lives too. Unless someone is downright evil, I believe that people want to do what is good overall. Basically they did the best with the knowledge and ability of what they knew at the time.
While reading this, many of us can start thinking of specific people in our childhood that caused a lot of grief and damage to us. And we may be thinking that there are people who did not want to do “good overall” and that there were exceptionally bad people in our past. Whether this is true or not, we now have the power to choose the direction of our life.
We can choose to allow these people to continue hurting us mentally or we can choose a life free of the pain. We can forgive those people now if we want and move on with our lives, or we can allow our potential in life to be limited by our past.
Praying to God helped me through my teenage angst years. I used to think that if I committed suicide, that it would hurt all the people that hurt me. I’d show them! Boy, won’t they feel bad when they see what they did to me? But then I thought about the people I knew who loved me and how sad they would be, and I remembered hearing that God does not like when people kill themselves. I didn’t want to risk angering Him and ruining my chances of getting into heaven, so I dropped that idea, thankfully.
So there we have it. We can choose to forgive anyone, but that does not mean we forget what happened. We learn and grow, and our past is why we are who we are today. Now we need to find and use the tools available to move forward with enriched lives, and we will cover that soon. But first, let me share two stories from my childhood to give you an idea of my youth.
This first story was written in the late 90’s and has since been published in two magazines around Valentine’s Day. I had decided to put it in writing at the urging of a friend who needed material for his newly launched magazine. Writing it was painful, but helped with the process of forgiveness.
Be My Valentine…Please
By Stephen Tako
Ever wonder what happened to the kid who got picked on in elementary school? The one nobody seemed to like. Sometimes, the child grows up to be a shy and insecure adult, afraid to live life to their full potential. Other children manage to put the hurt behind them, yet retain the strong, sometimes overwhelming desire to be accepted and liked by others. If I had to pick one of the two, I’m glad I was able to put the hurt behind me. I will share a true story that happened to me. My intention is to help prevent a similar occurrence from happening to any other children on Valentine’s Day. Yes, I was the kid nobody liked.
For the record, I never did figure out why the kids at school disliked me so much. Kids can be very cruel at times and their immature actions often make no logical sense. They are a product of their environment and have a strong desire to do as others do, just to “fit in”—regardless of whom they might hurt.
February 14th, St. Valentine’s Day, is a time for letting others know you like or love them. Just as when I was in school, children still make fancy Valentine’s boxes to display in class in the hope of receiving many bright red and pink Valentines. Some children spend a whole week on making their box using foil, construction paper, lace and ribbon. They write out all their little cards and can’t wait to get to school that day to exchange Valentines.
In third grade, I had my cards written but forgot to make my box. That morning, as the school bus approached, I revealed this unfortunate fact to my mom. She immediately grabbed a brown lunch bag, took a red crayon and drew hearts on the bag. She wrote my name on the bag, gave me a kiss and off to school I went with my Valentines.
At school, the teacher had us place our boxes (and bags) on the counter top and then take our seats. We were then instructed to go up and distribute our Valentines. I knew I wasn’t well liked and didn’t expect to get many Valentines, but I had one for everyone else in the class. When we had finished, our teacher told us to take our boxes back to our own desks.
When I looked into my bag, I remember how excited I was when I saw I had actually received Valentines. It felt good to see that some of the kids liked me after all. But as I started to read them, I realized all of the good words were crossed off and bad words written in their place. Some said “Don’t Be My Valentine,” others saying “I Love You” were changed to “I Hate You.” Every Valentine I received was the same. Imagine how I felt.
Parents should want to teach their children the importance of accepting other children, no matter how different they are. This will make the world a lot friendlier place. Sounds like a cliché? So what. It starts with you and your family. This year, parents could help eliminate a repeat of my story by helping their children write their Valentines and be sure they have one with positive affirmations for each member of their class.
Being a father has opened up some memories I buried years ago. I can only promise the world that I’ll do my best to teach my son to be a giving and caring person and hope he never has an experience like mine on Valentine’s Day.
With this in mind, next February 14th, know that I am wishing you a Happy Valentine’s Day. The past is the past and we all grow up and go our separate ways. Most of my class I have not seen in ten years and for the rest it has been twenty years. Some of my classmates have unfortunately died, and some we can’t seem to locate. One thing I know is that we can learn from our past and move on with our lives. Nobody has any authority over our lives when we become adults, so why allow your past to affect your present or future? That little kid will still be somewhere inside of me, but the man I chose to be is a survivor.
*****
This next story I have shared with people many times over the years since childhood, but this is the first time I have put it down on paper. Sharing it verbally is one thing, but to write it means I have to really relive it in my head to get the details accurately.
The Rocket Ship
By Stephen Tako
In Mrs. Rea’s third grade class back in rural Ohio, 1973, kids got excited over simple things. We didn’t have the fancy electronic devices that kids have today. We were more into board games, card games, backyard baseball games and playing down by the creek.
Excitement hit Mrs. Rea’s class when a student’s family bought themselves a brand new refrigerator and they donated the empty cardboard box to our class! Imagine the possibilities of what could be done with that fabulously large, rectangular, golden brown box. I’d never seen such a large box and it was all ours!
The class decided to transform the box into a rocket ship. There were window flaps that were cut out and really cool futuristic rocket designs crafted all around the box. We had our own rocket ship sitting right there to look at each day. She was a beauty.
Of course, all of us wanted to do nothing else but sit inside the rocket ship. That was not in Mrs. Rea’s lesson plans, so she came up with an incentive idea. She told us that if anyone got one hundred percent on the next math test, when she gave the following math test, they would be allowed to sit inside the rocket ship while everyone else had to take the exam.
UGH! Math was far from my best subject. In despair, I lost hope of ever getting to sit in the rocket ship. My math was so poor in fact that I was sent to see a math tutor at school to help me while the rest of the class worked with Mrs. Rea. After about three to four months, the tutor must have done pretty well for me because I was allowed to join the regular class again. On my first math test, I was the only one to score one hundred percent.
Oh yippee, I thought! Next week, I get to be the one sitting in the rocket ship. It seemed like everyone else had a chance to play in there except for me and now it was finally my turn after months of waiting. Next week couldn’t come soon enough!
The following week came and it was announced that we were all about to take a math test. My name was called as the only person who did not have to take the test and I proudly paraded over to the rocket ship. I opened the flap door, walked inside and sat down on the little chair provided. “Wow,” I thought, “there is a lot of stuff written inside here on the walls.”
It only took me a few moments to realize that the walls inside this beloved rocket ship contained all sorts of horrible things written about me. Things were written about me being ugly, stupid, retarded, etc., etc. It had many dumb things little kids say to be hurtful there for me to read in my shocked loneliness. “I hope Stephen Tako never gets to come in here because I hate him.” “Stephanie Taco is a girl and retarded.” “Roses are red violets are blue, I hate Stephen Tako, how about you?” “ST has HUGE nostrils.” I sat there numb and, as if looking at a nasty car accident, I could not help but look. I read everything there was to be read during that math test.
When the test for my classmates was over, it was time to come out and join the others. I never wanted to see that rocket ship again.
Shortly thereafter, my mom came to school for a parent-teacher meeting. I told her about the rocket ship and I don’t remember seeing it again in class after that day.
*****
Recently I was posting all my class group photos on Facebook. I noticed Grade 3 was missing, so I asked my fellow classmates if anyone had the photo from Mrs. Rea’s class. One of my friends posted that she was in that class and would look for the photo. As soon as I read that, my inner child screamed and my stomach jolted. For a second, I hated her. But then I forgave her. She is not that little girl laughing at me. She is a beautiful woman with her own family trying to make a good life for herself. Forgiving her felt better than holding on to nonsense from the past.
I was picked on, had my books knocked out of my hands, thermos broken, hit, laughed at, picked last for sports, etc., etc. I have long forgiven all the kids from school. They were just kids and they thought like kids and perhaps I was just an easy target. I was involved with planning our twentieth and twenty-fifth class reunions and hope to help on our thirtieth. I have really been enjoying reconnecting with my former classmates. We chat a lot on Facebook, and it is great to see how their lives have changed. I feel forever connected to them.
Stephen’s home town in Ohio.
I realize now that being different and unique is okay. It’s what makes the world such a fascinating place. How boring if everyone was like me. I like being an individual and never really ran with a specific pack in life. I often grew up feeling misunderstood and didn’t feel like I blended into the norm. Never felt like I fit in little Valley City, “The Frog Jump Capital of Ohio.”
The sad thing is that some kids end their lives, and some kids change to fit in with the others and it requires them to lose their uniqueness. Their creative mind becomes one of a follower rather than a leader.
If kids don’t blend as well into the mainstream crowd at school or in their neighborhood, they open themselves up to bullies. Today’s children have to deal with harassment not only at school, but now on the internet as well. Bullycide is the term used when today’s kids resort to drastic measures to get away from bullies.
The potential for kids to use the internet as a weapon for bullying is enormous. It is estimated that more than thirteen million children aged six to seventeen were victims of cyber-bullying; the poll also revealed that more than two million of those victims told no one about being attacked.
One-third of all teens (ages twelve-seventeen) and one-sixth of children (ages six-eleven) have had mean, threatening or embarrassing things said about them online. Ten percent of the teens and four percent of the younger children were threatened online with physical harm. It’s like the internet has become today’s “rocket ship” that I experienced. Only now, more than Mrs. Rea’s class can see the damaging comments.
Sixteen percent of the teens and preteens who were victims told no one about it.
About half of children ages six-eleven told their parents, while only thirty percent of older kids told their parents.
Preteens were as likely to receive harmful messages at school (fortyfive percent) and at home (forty-four percent).
Older children received thirty percent of harmful messages at school and seventy percent at home.
Seventeen percent of preteens and seven percent of teens said they were worried about bullying as they start a new school year. And tragically, eight percent of those affected by cyber-bullying try to commit suicide.
My prayer is that every child is able to get over those childhood years and those gifted are able to retain their creative minds, using them to enhance the world. Be different, so what? Have the guts to be true to yourself and persevere through all adversity.
Sadly, we have become a society on drugs. Our children get quickly labeled with disorders and are put on drugs to perform or behave better in school. One in ten children is diagnosed with ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), and most of them (close to three million kids) are put on drugs. I have researched Ritalin and have found that many children have died over a five-seven year period of use. As adults seeking a better life, we substitute one drug for another, all prescribed by well-meaning therapists. World-wide, it is estimated that two to five million people die each year directly from the use of drugs.
In some cases, our children get a special diagnosis to let us know what is wrong with them. It is given a name like ADD, ADHD, autism, Asperger’s, bi-polar and many more. While some of it is critical to diagnose, sometimes it is overkill and the kids are stuffed with drugs so they conform to the typical child behaviors.
A boy I know is a testament to the importance of early detection, and he is also a miracle. He was diagnosed with autism at age three and his parents took him to every service available for speech, behavior, occupational, social; you name it, they took him there. The schools wanted him on drugs; the parents tried it whenever they were being pressed and then weaned him right back off within a week. At age nine, they were told he no longer had autism.
Today that boy is thriving and drug free. What are the mass amounts of drugs doing to our society? Well, let me say this: Normalizing the human race kills creativity. There are exceptions to every case, and I am not suggesting everyone be removed from their drugs. I recognize that there are people whose lives have improved with prescribed drugs. But I also see society rushing to take drugs rather than taking the harder route of changing their diet, getting counseling, meditating or taking natural herbs.
But what happens to those that can’t just “will away” the personal demons they face? Many find an outlet to deal with their frustration. They have self-loathing and sometimes even chemical imbalances. They suffer from addictions of substances or behaviors that threaten to ruin their lives.
We’ve all seen families where there are a lot of problems. Sometimes, it’s our own family. Parents are substance abusers, smokers and drinkers, and then the kids grow up doing the same thing, even if they despise their offending parent(s). It is the rare child that escapes and figures out that the family abuse history can stop with them. It does not need to repeat itself. Breaking that family pattern can be hard, but certainly possible.
Any of us can overcome addictions, but sometimes we realize we have to find new friends in order for that to happen. I know from my own experience that sometimes your friends will drop you when they learn of your problem. Either way, this is a time to discover your true friends.
What kind of friend blows smoke around someone who is trying to 12 quit? Who begs you for sex when they know you think it’s immoral? What friend gives you drugs for just “one more time?” Who lets a friend get behind a wheel drunk? And, just as bad, what friend deserts someone when their secret addiction is revealed while they are trying to get help? These are not friends. These people are cancer. A package of strawberries will quickly rot with the presence of just one moldy strawberry. Inspect your friends for “mold” and then remove the offending fruit!
Fortunately, there are places available for people to get counseling to keep on the right path and to discover tools they need to improve their lives consistently. Associating with new friends is sometimes half the battle.
While I prefer to live my life drug free, I am no stranger to pressures being laid upon me to be put on drugs myself. I resisted, but one day I finally gave in. I was given a prescription that was supposed to help me concentrate. The psychologist said to take one pill and let her know the effect. Nothing. So the next day two pills. Nothing. When I said I felt nothing after taking 4 pills, she simply said she could not help me.
A couple of years later, I was encouraged to see another therapist. After several sessions, he implied that I might be bi-polar. Really? He seemed disturbed at my enthusiasm for life and that I reported I never get sick. I think he thought I was delusional because of my optimism that I was going to make it in the entertainment world as an actor. I told him that I already saw myself as someone famous and that people just didn’t know it yet. Oh boy, was he scribbling away on his note pad!
So I have been blamed for the following:
• I’m living in Fantasyland
• My head is in the clouds
• I go through life wearing rosy glasses
• I am not realistic
• I am a narcissist
• I don’t appear to realize the odds are against me to be a successful actor
And therefore, I really should be medicated. Excuse me? Is this what happens to people who decide they want to live their dreams?
One day I was sitting at my desk thinking about my future. I was in dental sales and approaching thirty years old. I looked at the people within the company that represented “my future” if I stayed in the industry. These folks had been in the business ten to twenty years, and this was pretty much all they would do until they retired.
I asked myself, “Is this the future I had planned for my life? Is this my destiny and the pinnacle of my career?” I realized that some of these people were trapped. This is what they knew how to do and they had gotten stuck in a career that was mediocre. But it paid the bills. Some of them seemed quite content with their career path. I, however, became depressed at the thought of continuing in this career. Didn’t God have some exciting path outlined for me? Wasn’t I supposed to be famous or something? Most certainly, my legacy on earth was not supposed to be as a dental sales rep.
And then one day it hit me: “Break Free and Use Your Gifts” was a saying that popped into my head and I had to write it down in my Franklin day planner. Every day I saw that phrase and my goal was to do just that. Break out of that industry, find my gifts and use them.
When I first moved to California at age twenty-one, I was certain I would be an actor. And I thought I would see actors walking around everywhere as well. I was so green to the Hollywood scene, that I went to the Beverly Center Mall, sat at the bottom of an escalator and watched to see all the celebrities shopping. To my dismay, I wasted four hours and did not recognize a single person: no Elizabeth Taylor, no Lucille Ball, no Clint Eastwood … probably a bunch of background actors though.
The first thing I did in Los Angeles was to sign up with some background agencies to get my acting career started. I worked a few movies in 1987, but the pay was lousy (sometimes $35 for a whole day) and I was bored on set. I had no connections in the industry and did not know what to do. I finally decided to take a “real” job where I could start actually making money. As soon as I was about to start my new job in the medical field, I was called to read for a part in a movie. I had to turn it down because filming interfered with my new job. That was a decision I have always regretted, because I was left with a “what if …” feeling.
So when I realized at age thirty that I was unhappy as a dental sales rep, I decided to take acting classes. I got my headshots and was excited about the potential of being an actor. My wife, on the other hand, was not so keen about her husband being an actor. We had some discussions about the odds being so great against me and we would not have any money, and reluctantly I gave up my dream for the steady paycheck. But it also left me with a “what if ….” feeling.
We all have certain gifts in life and if we are fortunate, we discover what they are and then have a chance to put them to good use. A gift does not mean that it comes to us easily and perfectly. One might say Tiger Woods has a gift for golfing, but he works hard at it constantly. If you and I worked as hard as he does, we may never reach his level because we lack the gift and/or desire to be the best at golfing. We all need to exercise our gifts once we have discovered them and put all our passion behind developing those gifts.
We owe it to the world! Why be stingy with our gifts? Share them so that we can enhance our lives and the lives of others. We must all find our calling, and look at our lives now and decide if we have found our gifts in life and if we are using them wisely. Spend a day talking to retired folks to hear about all the dreams they used to have and now it is too late. I think that is why some people do not like talking to old folks because it depresses and scares them to think they are going to wind up the same way, looking at the past with regret.
Everyone has unique talents and if we are not stuffing our throats with pills to make us more “normal”, then we just might have a better chance to discover and enrich those talents. Often it takes just changing our diet around to avoid these drugs, but we will cover that later in the book.
We must attract what we need in our lives. Most great things do not just fall into our laps. We have to put ourselves into the situations to make a chain of events occur. If we are scared of change, then we sit in our office chair and we complain to anyone who will listen. But if we take a stand for our dreams and passions, and then actually do something about it, doors will open that we never knew existed.
If you ever see me in a store, there is a good chance I might break out into a fancy dance move or start singing. This happens a lot when my son is with me because I like to see his reactions. Sometimes I can actually get him to play along, but other times he cringes. I figure, hey, if I hear a good song playing overhead, why not express myself through dancing and singing? Why do I care if some lady hides her kids from me? I am enjoying life and am not hurting anyone.