Following the Leader: Infinite Intelligence

Raised in a Fundamentalist Christian Church, my mother would tell people how her two younger children, my brother and sister, were at church just days after their births. My parents "found Jesus" in the cold of Alaska, literally. I wish they were here so I could more clearly ask them the details, so forgive me if I go Gabriel Garcia Marquez on you, but here is how I recall their description in becoming saved.

It was a high snow-banked winter in Fairbanks when my parents spotted a lit building in the distance as they drove, seeking what I don't know, but I think they were at a crossroads, known only to them. They went in and were welcomed by the few there, men who I would later remember eating chocolate-covered ants and bugs in the foyer of the small church. Alaska in the late 1950s, even before it became a state was a North Pole carnival. Only the strong survived.

My parents were smitten with Jesus and everything the church represented and off they went. My mother sat in the pew, calm and happy, now I know, as she could be.

I loved the community it provided and as I grew into the faith, equally loved prayer time, that moment of silence when you closed your eyes. My first taste of meditation. When I was older and in the dogged years of my teens and early 20s, I found Communion time to be such a relief when hungover. I could close my eyes and miraculously recuperate, if only in the reprieve of fast sleep.

Once I turned 21, I shook the hand of our preacher when he gingerly told me - as a woman - I could not pray or preach in front of men. Years before, I'd similarly been told by the professors at the Bible College I escaped to that I could not take the Latin classes as they were reserved for the men who would become ministers. If I wanted to serve the Lord, they advised, become a Sunday School teacher to the young, missionary or best of all, a minister's wife. I left what I now call "my parents' church" and walked away.

What truly saved me, though, and what has kept me awake and alive to Spirit started with my remembrance and love for The Parables of Jesus. I went back and read them and realized his genius. But I politely and still do say good-bye to any organized religion. I call myself simply a spirit here to perform service for the highest good.

My fifty-six years so far have been tumultuous, blessed, challenged, super-sized and questionable. But I always believed and continued searching, first intrigued by the work of Joseph Campbell. "Follow your bliss"? I mean, come on, that's paradise. Doing it, however, was tenuous. Yet, onward I went.

Then, I found Deepak Chopra and Christiane Northrup, Julia Cameron and more. Moving to NYC in 1997, sometimes I'd be on the subway train reading and would feel such an explosive happiness from what I was reading. Yes! my heart screamed.

Putting it into practice proved another challenge.

Born to a nervous set of parents, I am the same. Worriers are We. And sadness and a general depressive state can accompany our generous and artistic moods. I don't want to live like this anymore. I never wanted to and yet it followed me like a dependent puppy. Out in the work world, I could overcome it by helping people and as an excellent caregiver to my folks when they became ill. In 2010, I was my mother's hospice caregiver. Yet, how could I cure myself of fear, worry, and low self esteem?

And then last week, my daughter, Leila, and I went to have a Reading by Elaine Clayton, another reason why I love Facebook and social media so much. Elaine told me of my inner, magical child whose strong ties to the Eskimo and Native Americans tells me that I am satisfied with a bundle of goods, fishing ability, and the wide open. Leila said I came out of the Reading beaming, youthful, and thrilled and I was. I felt every remark and nudge Elaine and the Universe provided.

Enter Tosha Silver and Florence Scovel Shinn this past month. The latter I had all four of her books compacted into one paperback, sitting on my shelf, thanks to a kind Brooklynite who left it on his or her stoop and it found its way to my hand. I had just looked at it a few weeks ago while writing a new workshop for Workshops by Wolford and not knowing who this woman was or how I had come to have her book, and then I put it back. Fast forward to this past week when I received Tosha's book Outrageous Openness: Letting the Divine Take the Lead after discovering her through Dr. Northrup on her show on Hay House Radio. I clicked to Tosha's Facebook page and saw the Budweiser neon sign behind her and laughed, intrigued. I asked her to be friends and she accepted and then I started to take in her posts and my heart lurched with understanding. "You've found the missing piece of information," it rang!

I purchased her book and read it all at once, two days ago. Everything I have studied gave the green light. My worrying state could be controlled, no, deleted! And I had the control as long as I remembered to let the Divine lead the way.

I can do this.

As I read Tosha's magical book, I gasped at her tribute to Florence Scovel Shinn. Wait a minute? Wasn't that? Didn't I just? I dashed to my bookcase and there was Florence's book, smiling at me. Silly girl.

Thank you, Divine Intelligence.

I am reading her book right now, The Wisdom of Florence Scovel Shinn and feeling the wholeness of infinity. Everything my parents' hoped for and did; every search made by me; every PBS program listened to, every suggestion, notion, and wise bit of advice I'd heard or been given was reciprocating, applauding, cheering me on. Here ya go, girlfriend!

Tag, you're it. Jesus take the wheel.

As always, dedicated to Eddie's and my best work:
Leila Sandra (center) and Sarah Nancy (left).
"Follow your bliss." - Joseph Campbell

I've so got this.

Sheela Wolford is a scrappy enthusiast who knows her purpose is to encourage. A writer, starry-eyed mother, good daughter, and better sister, she is working on a Grief Journal, a memoir about her mother and her, and a book about the years she spent in brown Adidas shoes, figuring out her life. Like her on Facebook on Workshops by Wolford.  And for heaven's sake, go buy Outrageous Openness.

Hula Hoop Your Way to Wholeness

Life is meant to be unscrambled like a jigsaw puzzle.

I'm a girl born in 1955. As early as five, I was asking for money from my father. My mother was a homemaker, so I knew to go to Dad for change for ice cream, a headband, or a hula hoop. A few years later I found ways to make money on my own by doing chores and selling Sunshine greeting cards door to door in the rural area of Michigan where we lived when my Dad was in the Air Force.

My father when he only knew joy.

I saved up for a ceramic poodle figurine that changed colors with the weather; a slinky, a yoyo, and a rubber banded object that when pulled by the hands spun in balance. Looking back, I feel empowered that I figured out ways to earn my own money. But yet, it was during this same time that I experienced not feeling like I was a part of the whole financial wheel, not balanced like my rubber band toy.

One Saturday morning, the six of us were piled into our station wagon to drive up to Alpena for a shopping day, I witnessed my father writing a check as we sat in the bank parking lot. I asked him what was he doing and he told me it was to get money from the bank. "Make it for whatever you want!" I shouted in glee. The thought of a book of checks to write out amounts sounded like the most delicious part of life I'd ever heard and why then were we not writing with the speed of a jet? He turned and looked at me with frustration and now as a parent I understand when he said, "It doesn't work that way." And I felt embarrassment roll over me. But why? I wanted to ask.

I never got any more of an explanation, and the years trailed on, and suddenly I was in charge of my own family, feeling as overwhelmed as my parents probably felt back then. Thank goodness for Suze Orman who helps us everyday. And as much as I know from her generosity, the connection I am making in my journey now is how I need to know I am quite capable to value myself enough to earn a sensational living while giving to my community in beautiful ways. And so connecting with my self esteem has become Mission #1 and I am so grateful to Caroline Myss and her program on self esteem.

Just last Saturday, I checked my mail and found a free copy of Louise Hay and Cheryl Richardson's book,  You Can Create an Exceptional Life after participating in a contest to describe my idea of what an exceptional life for me would look like. This book is helping me to see how ultra successful women - like Cheryl and Louise - indeed walk the same rocky path as me, as all of us, and find sterling and flexible ways to incorporate joy and wealth into their lives. This little book is saving me, once again.

I am a knowledge fiend.

As the creator of Workshops by Wolford, I am constantly seeking ways to improve, reinvent, and to fortify the human experience so that we can live whole, free lives. I like the idea of looking at a checkbook and not sweating the amount I need to write down. And I want to give to society through work that thrills and satisfies me.

Yet, I've spent too long worrying about how to accomplish that and now I know worry is just a fearmonger and has no place in our lives because there is plenty of money for ice cream and headbands and anything else inbetween. Knowing this, owning this, and applying this through spiritual and active practice is the key.

I am writing a new workshop titled: "The Problem is Worrying: How to Make Friends with Your Unconscious Patterns".  I will be pulling together lots of loose strings and will offer it online as well as in person in New York, and I am excited to do this. Not only does it feel great to be swimming in the knowledge and wisdom of my value, but it also feels incredible to know I am giving what I am learning to you, you who are waiting to take this information and to let go and to grow! It's never too late. Headbands and weather poodles for all!