The Renewal of Joyce Carlton Ch. 01

"Very good," Ray said slowly as he grinned at me. He went on, "The next item on your list was being spiritual -- not religious. Tell me about that."

"I was raised in a non-practicing Catholic household. We went to church on the big occasions like Easter and Christmas and a few other times. I got the gist of it -- I'm a miserable sinner, Christ died for my sins, and I'll probably go to hell. The trouble is; I don't believe any of it. My truth meter sits at zero on all those ideas and concepts. I wasn't sinning, yet that religion is premised on the fact that I did or do -- even unintentionally and unknowingly. What a crock! I'm not sure what I believe, but that's not it."

"Do you believe in God?" Ray asked.

"Yes and no," I responded. "God is not 'someone' out there, separate from me. The God-force is in me -- in you, in everyone. There's no separate 'being' that judges us and has some of us go to some ill-defined heaven and others to some equally vague hell. We make our heaven or hell in how we live this life."

"Is there a source of evil in the world?" Ray asked.

"You'd think from the headlines that there is, but I think this is just we mortal beings screwing up. I don't think there's an evil force that acts counter to God. God is all there is. If we screw up, we're supposed to learn a lesson. If others screw up, we're supposed to learn those lessons too. I think that's why we're here -- to grow, evolve, and learn. There's no right or wrong except what we make or define."

"Well, I'd say you have a good start on being spiritual," Ray said squeezing my hand. "Few people have thought through what you just rattled off. I'd like to talk more, but we have someone to meet regarding the last item on your list so far."

I asked, "The last item?"

"Yes," he said. "You want to be a sharp dresser."

Ray led the way down the tower. My brain went into gear again, and I started to feel ashamed of what I'd said in my journal and how plainly I dressed. Further, I'd blurted out answers in ways I'd never done before. He was inspiring me to act unconventionally, and I wasn't sure I liked myself doing that. It wasn't a control issue; it was embarrassment.

As we started walking back to the car Ray said, "You have a tall order -- to stop thinking one way about yourself and start thinking another. Change your thinking; change your life. You have to unlearn some bad thinking habits you've developed." He turned to me and asked suddenly, "What are you thinking right now?"

"I'm sort of ashamed of how I feel. I'm not worthy of your attention."

He said, "The rest of the way back to the car, keep repeating the following phrase: 'I am worthy. I love myself. I can change to be anything I want to be. I make my own reality through what I think and believe.'" He waited while I repeated the statement aloud and then turned and started walking. I struggled to keep up as I repeated the statement.

I kept repeating the statement. At one point I thought I'd do it silently to myself; Ray yelled, "I can't hear you!" So I was forced to speak loudly as we walked the nature trail. When we got back to the car, I was almost hoarse, but I knew the words by heart.

As we got in the car Ray held the car door for me again. He said, "If you feel in doubt, ashamed, dependent, unworthy, or fearful, I want you to repeat that statement."

"I feel conceited -- selfish -- embarrassed," I admitted. "I don't like all this focus on 'me'."

"Stay there for a while until you love yourself," he said. "You don't love yourself and you don't feel worthy of attention -- that produces the embarrassment. Just believe that you do and repeat the words I told you."

We drove back to toward downtown. Ray pulled into the local Best Buy store and stopped. He turned off the car and looked at me.

"Huh?" I gestured.

"Go buy a keyboard. I'll wait," he said. He leaned back in the driver's seat and shut his eyes. He added from his relaxed position, "Oh, make sure it has eighty-eight keys on it and buy a sturdy stand for it."

I returned fifteen minutes later with a keyboard in a large box and a collapsible stand in my shopping cart. I knocked on the trunk of the car and Ray popped it open. He got out and helped me put the Casio keyboard and its stand in the trunk and carefully shut the hatchback door. I put the cart in the return slot and went to get in the car. Ray again held the door for me. Neither of us said anything. Ray started the car and drove another mile pulling into a music store.

He said, "There's a bulletin board with the names, addresses and phone numbers of piano teachers just inside the door on the left. Go get the names and contact information of three instructors that live near you." He handed me my journal and a pen. I accomplished his task and was back in the car in five minutes. Ray was waiting outside the car, so he could hold the car door for me. Again, we were silent as he pulled away. My brain started to tell me negative messages, and I repeated the mantra that Ray had given me.

We drove into one of the nicer parts of the City and Ray finally pulled up in front of a gorgeous home. I started to get out, but he stopped me; "Wait for me to come and open the door for you. Think of yourself as someone deserving to be waited on." He came around the car, opened the door for me, and then took my hand and helped me stand. "Welcome to my home," he said.

We walked in the front door, and I was immediately impressed with the décor and view over part of the Bay from this home. "Wow," was all I kept saying.

A beautiful dark haired woman in her mid-thirties came from the back of the house and walked towards us. Her casual clothing was stylish and made me feel it was exceptionally expensive and well chosen. "Joyce! Welcome. I'm Kim. I hope Ray has been kind to you today. He can be a tough mentor at times, believe me I know." She walked up and embraced me, giving me a full body hug. I stiffened and then wondered about the inadequacy of my clothing compared to hers and what was obviously my total lack of sophistication. I was a clod in the presence of beauty.

Kim said, "Come and have a glass of wine. You look remarkably relaxed for someone who's been hiking around the State Park all afternoon while being mentored by Ray." She laughed as she led the way towards the modern kitchen.

Kim didn't ask; she just poured me a glass of Merlot from an expensive looking bottle. She turned and handed it to me, allowing her hand to touch mine in the process. It was a seductive move, and I felt electrified by the touch. Ray watched and smiled.

Ray poured himself a glass and then turned and gestured that we were to make a toast. "To Joyce, a woman who WILL become exactly who she wants to be." We all sipped our glass, and I had to admit embarrassment at being the object of his toast. The voices in my head tried to start up about how inappropriately dressed I was, how beautiful Kim was compared to me, how poor I was compared to the riches this couple had accumulated, how I wasn't even able to converse on their level.

Kim jarred me out of my negative thought pattern when she said to me, "Ray tells me you need some fashion help -- that you want to move beyond where you are now in buying clothes and in how you dress." Ray stood beside us nodding in agreement. "Let me assure you that how you dress influences your whole perception of yourself. If you dress routinely and without thought, your self-image suffers and people will not respond to you as you'd like. If you have the perfect outfit for each occasion, you'll change how you think about yourself -- you'll feel on top of the world, and people will react accordingly. It's like Feng Shui for the body."

I stammered out, "But you've been doing this all your life."

"Oh, no," Kim said. "My friend -- our friend -- Stacy taught me just a short while ago when she lived with us. Before that, I wasn't very self-assured and I really didn't think about how I dressed. I mostly wore sweats and sneakers and looked pretty down market; that's also how I thought of myself."

Kim stood back and looked at me objectively. "Come with me; we're going to have fun. Bring your wine. Ray can join us in about fifteen minutes." She treated the last statement instructionally as she turned to Ray; he nodded in agreement.

Kim led me up a grand staircase and through a majestic master bedroom. She cut through a walk-in closet and dressing area and into the master bathroom. She handed me a new towel from a towel rack. "Take a quick shower in there and then dry off and come back to the closet. Don't dress. I'm picking stuff for you to try on." I followed her instructions, reappearing a few moments later with the damp towel wrapped around my body. I had not washed my hair.

"Stacy, you and I are all about the same size," Kim said, "So we're going to try on some outfits. Tomorrow, we'll go through your closet and make a shopping trip." She grinned with wicked anticipation at the idea of a shopping trip and then handed me a skin-tone thong from Victoria Secret still in its new packaging; "Here, put this on."

"I ... I'm not ... I've never ... worn a thong," I finally blurted out.

"Well, you are now. You'll get used to in a few minutes and never want to go back. They do wonders for your panty lines, and they feel so sexy," Kim responded. I was missing my uninspiring cotton panties as I modestly unwrapped the small triangle of cloth, stepped into the thong, and pulled it up my legs while I clutched the towel to my upper body.

"Here, give me that towel," Kim said holding her hand out. I reluctantly let go of the towel. She looked over my near naked body and finally said, "Nice breasts, well proportioned to the rest of your body. You should be proud of them. Stand up a little straighter." I did, and my breasts thrust out more in front of me. "That's it," Kim said, "Nice dark areolae too. Good. Sexy;" the compliments and cool air of the bedroom made my nipples stand out.

Kim went on, "Well, I know you're cautious in your thinking and a computer jock. That would mean you're pretty organized. Ray said you've done some fancy programming, so you'd be smart and practical too, creative, open to new ideas -- at least professionally. This would place you as either an autumn or spring person. Let's see you have natural hair on the darker side of blond and deep blue-green eyes -- interesting how they change color in the light." She held up several colored blouses to my face.

Kim stopped and peered deep into my scalp and into my face. "You have some orange tones in your skin, but I wouldn't call it ruddy." She stopped and looked me over, walking behind me. "Nice ass too," she volunteered; "No wonder Ray likes you -- he's an ass man." She laughed, and I laughed too, partly in embarrassment; I did feel as though I was on the chopping block.

She finally announced, "I think you are basically an autumn person." She studied my face again then said, "Yes, definitely autumn. Good skin tone. Stacy was an autumn person too. Let's see what we can find for you."

Kim led me down a short hallway to a spare bedroom and opened the closet doors. A rich assortment of clothing greeted us. Kim reached in and grabbed a rich aqua colored top. "Here, try this." I pulled it on over my head. I'd never worn anything aqua colored.

"Now for casual slacks, you could go back to your khaki's -- ideally, they'd be creamier in color, but what you have would be OK with this -- except they're too masculine. They should be tighter than you wear them and, well, not baggy. Look in the mirror there. See how the bright top brings out your skin tone. Here, let's try another."

Kim pulled a bright peach top from the closet and held it up in front of me. "Take that off," she said. As I did and passed the aqua top back to Kim, I saw Ray standing in the doorway watching us. He had a neutral expression on his face, as I stood clad only in the new thong. Something made it all right that I was on display for him. I just smiled at him, and he smiled back encouragingly. I accepted my embarrassment.

I slipped the peach top over my head and pulled it down past my breasts. I said, "This is a little tighter."

"Good," Kim said, "it'll show your assets off more. Don't be afraid to flaunt what you have. You're well endowed and that's good; plus the rest of you is trim." She turned to Ray, "What do you think?"

"Good color for her. She'd do well in oranges too and mid-range pastels, maybe a light green? She's autumn right?"

"Right," Kim answered him as she studied me.

"Nice ass," Ray commented in his unexcited manner as I turned towards the mirror. I looked over my shoulder and grinned at him. I was becoming more relaxed in his company.

"You're hot," Kim told me.

"I've never thought of myself that way and no one'sever told me that," I replied.

Ray offered, "You've got to think of yourself in a whole new way. You're a desirable person in every way imaginable -- mind, body, and spirit all work together. You are what you believe you are. Do you believe you're hot?"

I looked at myself in the mirror. My nipples were erect and clearly visible through the peach fabric. Beneath my flat stomach, some of my light colored pubic hair was visible around the edge of the thong. My legs were shapely. I liked what I saw, perhaps for the first time because Ray and Kim were coaching me in how to see myself. "Yes," I replied, "I think I might be ... hot that is."

Ray finally volunteered, "The timer went off on the oven. I took the lasagna out. I also set the table and I'm starved."

Kim pulled me towards the door, "Keep that on. Come, just as you, and we'll have dinner and talk."

I stammered, "But ... but ... I only have a thong on. My bottom is bare."

"Fine by me," Ray said as he turned and walked ahead of us and went downstairs towards the kitchen and dining area.

Kim turned to me and spoke, "A 'hot' dish like you might occasionally eat in what you have on. Think of it that way. Be sexy. Get out of your comfort zone ... in mind, body, and spirit."

I followed Kim and Ray to the kitchen. As they finished the last of the preparations, I sat on one of the vinyl covered bar stools. The cool seat stimulated me since there was nothing between my ass and the stool. I realized partway through another glass of wine, that I was getting turned on, and I was wet in my nether region.

Kim and Ray worked well together, plus, they were affectionate with each other. The two often reached out to each other for just a touch or hug or occasional kiss. Often, a kiss was given as a reward for doing some small thing. As they finished putting things in the serving dishes, I put them on the table in front of the tall windows that opened onto the bay. When we were through and ready to sit down, both of them gave me a kiss to say thank you for my serving. I was embarrassed but liked the attention. Oddly enough, the voices in my head had little to say about the kisses other than appreciation; they were still dealing with being 'hot' and trying to insist that the word was never meant for me.

Our dinner conversation was lively and animated. I slowly learned about Ray's growing up in a supportive and encouraging environment, which both challenged him and rewarded him for critical thinking. I learned he had spent ten years in the financial services sector doing foreign exchange trading and that he was now 'retired' and finding ways to give back to the society that had rewarded him so handsomely. He still traded, but his own money on his own time. Much to my surprise, the multi-million dollar house we were in was fully paid for by his earnings.

Kim turned out to be an interior decorator; however, in some unique cases such as mine, she doubled as a personal fashion consultant. She'd had a lackluster career through her twenties until she met Ray and Stacy. The three of them lived together for five years and to hear Ray and Kim share the experience, it was almost spiritual.

Their ménage a trois was certainly an interesting style of living and way of life that I'd never dreamed of. It seemed exceptionally supportive and giving as well as personally fulfilling. Our discussion wandered away from their threesome and left me with about a thousand questions I was curious about. I understood clearly; however, that the loving and sexual part of the relationship was shared equally between all members of the relationship.

As we ate there were several times the voices in my head woke up and talked to me. They were telling me how inadequate I was to be with dynamic people like this. Then my voices questioned how I was dressed -- or undressed at this occasion. They reminded me of my humble roots and tried to tell me many other messages. At one point, I repeated the mantra Ray had given me out loud, explaining why I was doing it; "I am worthy. I love myself. I can change to be anything I want to be. I make my own reality through what I think and believe." Both Ray and Kim encouragingly nodded to me.

Kim said to me shortly after that, "Joyce, it's hard to believe you create your own reality, but I assure you that you do. I work every day to reaffirm what you just said, and I try to live it minute by minute through everyday. Ray taught me to love myself and then to love others unconditionally. Through my making others worthy, I made myself worthy, including of my own self-love. Once I loved myself, I could love others -- like Ray and Stacy. I had to give up dragging a lot of the past along with me; I really try to live in the present moment -- not fretting about the past and not worrying about the future. Reality is not what you think; it's what you make it."

I asked, "How do you turn off your active mind -- all those messages? In my case, so many of them are negative and not supportive. When I'm at work they're all right, but any time I set out socially or go to have a social interaction, they start up and tell me some pretty negative things about myself."

Both Kim and Ray answered in unison, "We are conscious." They laughed at the coincidence of their responses.

Ray continued, "If you can teach yourself to hear the voices, to be aware of them -- to be conscious of them, then you realize there is another, more rational 'you' inside your head. This is the one that can say 'bullshit' when your mind starts to feed you negative messages, or tells you that you can't do something. It's the Spirit that says I refuse to believe or allow this negative limiting message. You'll be surprised at how fast those messages stop, at least at that instant."

Kim reached over and held my hand and squeezed it lovingly, "You've made a hell for yourself by listening to these messages. You can make a heaven for yourself by listening to another set of messages, about how you are loved, cared for, supported and valued in this Universe. The more you believe this; the more you make it true."

Each of their words came to me like refreshing breezes. I thrived on their advice as they explained further about their philosophy. I had not heard the term Carpe Diem until Kim explained it to me -- Seize the day. She said, "Really it should be seize the moment -- the 'Now' that we live in at this second. Give those moments your conscious attention and you can make them what you want them to be. Don't beat yourself up about the past and don't worry about the future; live in the 'Now.' One of our friends has a saying, 'Fate is what life deals you, and destiny is what you do with it.' You choose what to do minute by minute with what is before you."

We lingered around the dining table for over an hour after we finished enjoying coffees and a light dessert. Finally, Kim led me up to finish getting dressed. Kim insisted that I keep the blouse I'd been wearing. Ray said he'd drive me home. I let him open the car door for me as I got into the car and handed him my keys at my condo so he could open that door too. He helped me with my keyboard and stand, putting them just inside my door. As I turned to say goodnight, he pulled me to him gently and gave me a positively electric kiss. I kissed back and quite consciously told the voices in my head to keep very quiet while I enjoyed this moment. Carpe diem!