Final Meditation Journal Entry

As school ends and my academic obligations with it, I am so relaxed that I feel compelled to finish what I started: the journal of my meditations with Dr. Deepak Chopra. Here are the last entries in that journal.

Finding Peace

Finding Peace

Entry 17: Today’s meditation starts out with tears, the left eye cascading down my face while the right eye comes down in droplets. I imagine an artist capturing these weird descents of tears as a theme for his or her art collection. Peace is so priceless. When you find it, you’ve found your bliss. Therefore, as they say, “Follow your bliss;” nothing else matters. Lack seems foreign because peace supersedes. I will move through today lighthearted and carefree knowing all is well. Today is a glorious day. I wake up grateful for all the promises it holds for me and for all. I move through today with grace in its gifts in smiles, kind words, hugs, lights that shine within, breaking bread this Thanksgiving day and sharing Earth’s abundant blessings. Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen!

Entry 18: I celebrate my unity with all life and nonlife knowing we are all one. The tears cascaded today and ran down my face into my sweater to be absorbed in unity as one. We are all one, indeed! If we would realize that and avoid the divisiveness that is making a mess of the human race, we truly would have the peaceful world we desire so much. We are all one. We need to be aware of that and take actions to restore peace in ourselves, in our families, in our communities, our counties, our provinces, our states, our nations, our continents, and in the world. What a beautiful life we would all have. We all live in ONE WORLD. The sad thing is that whatever we are fighting for and dying for and quarreling about will still be here when we all go to meet our maker. The earth will remain. Only humanity will pass away. The earth was here before we came. We need to love our neighbors—near and far—as we love ourselves. Then we shall have true peace. We all live in ONE WORLD. Namaste.

Entry 19: Dr. Chopra delivers such beauty in spoken words. Bliss is found in them. I am elevated to be and do better. I am centered in love and in life. Today, tears of love flowed in abundant drops without restriction. I will live from a state of love. Everything good is drawn to me. I will say, “I love you,” more often, one of the most emotional expressions in any language. Also, I have always lived love, but from now on I live love more profoundly. I know that at the core of my being, I have always been in tune with my heightened level of pure awareness, creativity, spirit, and love. I am in tune with my spirit, the one who feels, and the one who is love. Like the late Whitney Houston sang, learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all. Deepak Chopra says (and I have known this) the greatest gift you can give to anyone is love. I have never had the problem of loving myself. I am learning to love more people. Life is love and love is life, said an Indian sage to his followers. Love keeps the body together. Knowledge is the love of truth, adds Deepak Chopra. I love love; I love loving, and I love being loved because they all bring me closer to my inner self, the center of my quiet, the core of me, and the essence of my happiness and the happiness of those I love. Namaste.

Entry 20: I have known these little truths, but it helps to have them affirmed by Dr. Deepak Chopra today. I surround myself with luxury as often as I can because I am worthy of such luxuries. I like dressing up to have tea with friends. I make having tea in my house into a grand event with elaborate china; I like taking bubble baths, gardening, and plucking roses from my gardens, meditating, taking time to go within, getting in touch with my inner quiet, and connecting with my higher self. I have done these things routinely for internal peace, to heal within where no one sees the hurt, and to save my sanity. I deserve all the treasures the world has to offer, not material things, but the little things in life. When I was managing one of my father’s businesses, I coined a jingle for that supermarket, “Dealer in life’s little pleasures.’ Little things in life can give us so much pleasure, the little things that mean a lot. I don’t know when I realized that these little pleasures of life are the true essence, tiny bubbles of happiness. For that reason and many more, I call today’s tears, “tears of happiness” for my recognition of how valuable I am, a piece of gold, Deepak says, created from the love of the universe. I elevate myself always and value my life because I am a priceless human being. Namaste.

Entry 21: I am so grateful to Dr. Deepak Chopra and to Oprah Winfrey for introducing me and several thousands of people to this 21-Day Meditation Challenge which ends today. As I come to grip with its closure, I am resolved to continue this tradition as part of my self-discovery. I have accepted that abundance is mine to have, that it will flow readily into my life, and I resolve that “every moment of every day, I live my life abundantly.” I will continue to plant the seed of abundant consciousness. I stretch my hand to obtain the seeds from Dr. Chopra. As I plant the seeds, I water them with tears, today’s tears that came in droplet. I plant the seeds of abundant consciousness to grow more happiness, love, prosperity, anything else I co-create with my inner, higher self, anything I want while blissfully aware that abundance will flow effortlessly into my life. I trust that once I have planted these seeds, the sun, the rain from up above, and the rain from my eyes will cause them to grow and thrive into unlimited abundance. Thank you, Oprah. Thank you, Deepak. Namaste.

Entry 22: I logged into Dr. Chopak’s meditation website to recycle previous meditations. Imagine my surprise when I found a fresh recording titled, “Day 22.” The challenge concluded yesterday. It is so generous of Dr. Chopra to give generously of his time and talent. One who preaches abundance exemplifies abundance by giving an extra day; this is so, so fitting. Thank you for this surprising gift. Because you, Dr. Chopra, have elevated my awareness consciousness, I will do my part to heal the world in any little way i can. We are connected, all of us in this world, in this life. My tears today are dedicated to healing the world. It is my fervent wish that we find peace in our world and that we find that peaceable kingdom here on earth. Namaste.

Thank you for allowing me to share a profound experience in my life. I have grown within where it counts the most. Knowledge is love, and I have grown profoundly in both. Namaste.

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Is Atlanta Literary?

Providing Serenity

In search of a new writing group, I stumble upon unintentional access to the Chattahoochee River, an access that costs me nothing. Ordinarily, access to a body of water carries a stiff price.

In the backdrop of the establishment, I spy a body of water and realize that I am so blessed to live in a major metropolitan area that tucks the Chattahoochee into its waist, circular and all. As it goes about its business, I see people latching on for numerous reasons.

Fortunately, this end of the river boasts no crashing waves or unpredictable agitations to cause an unnecessary distraction. These sedate and subdued motions could have enervated my brain into introspection. Rather, I choose to allow it to energize my hand into literary scribbling of the most profound kind.

Sitting on the Chattahoochee

As I sit here on the bank, I realize that Atlanta can hold its own among cities calling themselves literary luminaries. I am truly blessed to live in a major metropolis boasting of an A-list of citadels of learning, a city that has been attracting intellects since Booker T. Washington, even if only to elevate the art of public speaking.

I am fortunate to live here where, when a shout for writing goes out, people take up pens (used loosely here) to answer with immediacy. I am discovering the depth of Atlanta’s literateness. I belong to several face-to-face literary groups, a good selection easily organized by like-minded individuals who could charge membership fees (like some of the online ones) but who do not. Their sole “ulterior” motive is to help each other grow in literation.

Sitting here today, I feel very well in my elements on this bank whose serene flow circles Atlanta’s waist and germinates creativity in me with gentleness. I realize that even though our patio doors do not open directly onto the Atlantic (although our distant neighbor, Savannah does), Atlanta has literary blessings in abundance: print media, online media, the film industry staking a firm claim, and printers and publishing outlets to give authors’ creations wings.

Atlanta not being a one-sector industry or a one-crop economy gives hope to writers and artists. It is not a mining town, a camera/photo city, a silicon-born city, one-university dominion, nor is it controlled by brewery, quarry, seafood, farming, or seaport. We certainly have access to all these varieties.

Even the railroad that gave it birth does not claim domination any more. Atlanta is truly blessed, and because I am like Atlanta in many ways, so am I. 

Exploring Genrelific® Situations

Words come to me out of the blue as inventions. For example, I used the word “fantabulous,” for the first time to my students in 1997 without realizing that someone else had documented its use in 1957. I invent words continuously and use them personally–blended words, unique words, and so on, but I never venture to clamor for the general public to herald their birth until now.

This morning, as I brewed my herbal tea and pondered over the topic for today’s blog, I sought to take stock of my versatility in the literary realm. I am a writer of many genres, meaning that I am prolific in those genres. In search of the ONE word that would capture my uniqueness and brand me at the same time, I (Frances Ohanenye) invented “genrelific” on February 7, 2012.

I went to the Lexico Publishing Company and to Merriam-Webster to find out how I can add my newly coined word into their respective dictionaries. In summation, usage is the passport for inclusion into that privileged class. Therefore, I encourage everyone to begin to use the word “genrelific.” The more people who use it, the higher the chance of my word being included in any dictionary. I searched the internet, and it does not exist.

For example, you could say, “My friend, Frances Ohanenye, is very genrelific. She writes across many genres.” Or, “My brother is a genrelific reader and does not restrict himself to one genre.”

I admit that my motive may seem self-serving for now, but ultimately, my goal is for the general reading public to describe writers who cross the boundaries of the literary world with one word instead of with a string of wordy morsels. “Genrelific” captures the literati, that group of authors, writers, and other people involved with literature and the arts.

I am realistic and patient. The process of inclusion takes weeks, months, and even years. I understand. I am not myopic at all either. I see the far-reaching use of the word, genrelific. We speak of types of art, movies/cinematography, music, and wherever categories and sub-categories exist within an industry. The applicability of the word is limitless.

To establish ownership of my coined word for evidentiary purpose, I took the liberty of corresponding with those two companies to queue myself on their waiting list and introduce my brainchild as well. Now, let us get back to my “genrelific” self. I am prolific in these genres: children’s, young adult (YA), mystery, science fiction, short story, poetry, religious/inspirational, and adult/realistic/women’s. I want to delve into creating plays/drama, mythology, romance, fairytale, historical fiction, folktale–which my father used to tell us a lot of, and others.

Kathleen Hall Jamieson‘s “Antecedent Genre as Rhetorical Constraint” declares that rhetorical situation determines discourse as well as antecedent genres. I admire Jamieson’s succinctness because past definitions of genres still control our present analysis, appreciation, and emulation. “Antecedent genres are genres of the past used as a basis to shape and form current rhetorical responses.”

I have penned at least one volume in each of the nine genres listed above, and some genres can boast of at least eight creations in my literary repertoire. I have many ideas marinating for many more explorations within each of the types of literature in which I have traveled.

That I have not dabbled into the romance genre purely as a writer is not for lack of desire; no pun intended. The muse has not called me yet. To be a writer, one must first be a reader. I devoured at least 100 of Barbara Cartland’s romance novels and by other authors, enough to inspire me despite myself.

I consumed at least 70 of René Brabazon Lodge Alan Raymond’s, (famously and lovingly known as James Hadley Chase) crime fiction novels, not to mention many from Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes, Ian Fleming (the creator of James Bond), and several more.

I read and memorized texts of classic novels (Charles Dickens, Jonathan Swift, Robert Louis Stevenson, Jane Austen, Horatio Alger, Charlotte Bronte, Guy de Maupassant, Nathaniel Hawthorne, David Henry Thoreau) and William Shakespeare’s dramas, the springboard for my rapture with literature.

I nourished my soul with Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Hilaire Belloc, Kofi Awoonor, and other poignant authors and poets. As a matter of fact, one year, I read at least 180 novels, not teacher-mandated readings, required texts, or textbooks, simply self-chosen glorious novels.

Now I write furiously. I write many genres and can write all genres. However, my creation relies on inspiration cascading like confetti rather than by a self-inflicted time-table. Who knows, when the inspiration floods my brain for romance novels, I will create that genre as a full bloom or any other genre my mind chooses to birth.

The type of literature into which I will never seek membership is horror. The simple reason is that I do not wish to stain or sell my soul because I may not be able to buy it back or get it back from the dark forces that inhabit that sphere. Superstitious? May be, but I have read both Steven King and Edgar Allan Poe, and they both scared the living daylights out of me and my house.

Venturing into many genres allows me to dabble into unrestricted spheres. I perceive myself as a living testimony of Richard Coe’s words when he said that “tyranny of genre” constrains individual creativity (Coe 188). Therefore, I allow myself to mingle within genres, cross their boundaries, shake hands with their inhabitants, and dine luxuriously among them.

In my mystery novels, romance abounds. In one YA novel, religion trumpets out of the mouths of youths like the Sermon on the Mount, and religious-infused allusions thrive. In my science fiction short story, realism and fiction fight for supremacy, but because I want it classified as a science fiction endeavor, that genre triumphs. As Amy Devitt states, “A genre is named because of its formal markers” (Devitt 10), and I wanted that story formally marked as a science fiction.

If I have failed to make it known before, unique words feed my brain like food and my brain feeds me unique words. Today will go down in famousness as the birthday of the word, “genrelific,” another synergy for the literary world.

©2012Genrelific by FrancesOhanenye