The mysterious energy that propels all things—every atom, the sun and the very orbit of the planets—pulsates through our veins. Some people emit more than others. Most of us want more. We look to coffee, energy drinks and even magic wristbands to boost us. We want to be that person who elevates the energy of a room simply by entering it. How does one flip the switch on this mojo? This could really enhance every aspect of our lives. To get inside the head of one of these people, I interviewed a friend (whom we’ll call Mojo).

Frank Shepard: Everyone I talked to, including those who don’t necessarily like you and your biggest fans, agree that you are one of those people whose presence elevates the energy of a room. Why do you think this is so?

Mojo: When you called, I realized I had never been asked that question. So I took a walk with a digital recorder and just freely speculated on this for about 45 minutes, and I think I came up with a few things.

FS: Okay.

Mojo: As long as I can remember, I have been in awe of life. And today, it’s like I’ve never lost that childlike wonder. Also, my parents genuinely loved me. I think it is significant for humans to get their love-cup filled, and keep it filled.

FS: Well, that may not be much help to those whose parents didn’t love them or who had a less privileged upbringing.

Mojo: I had a feeling you’d say that. Here’s what I think about that: We each build our own story (from our memory banks) that creates the person we think we need to be to survive. We draft a narrative that best casts us as the character we think will make us successful. We all have both good and bad childhood memories. If we want to be tough, we draw from the hard memories; if we need attention or sympathy, we play the sad tapes. There’s an aversion in our culture to happy people, and let’s be honest, when you’re down, happy people are offensive. We want to slap that smile off their face. But my point here is that we choose the history we want to believe that creates the type of person we think we need to be.
But think about this: Unless a parent is psychopathic (which is a very small percentage of humanity), they love their children. They may have been pitiful at expressing it, but in their own way, they loved you. People can search their memory banks for at least one time that their parent expressed love to them, and it is there, no matter how feeble the attempt. We can choose which stories to build our lives on. Both are true; both are there—the loving and the hateful. But we can choose to believe that we were loved, and make that story the one that defines us. If need be, we can feel the love of the universe itself. As brutal as it is, it does provide gravity and oxygen so that we can exist. The point is: Get your love-cup filled, whatever it takes, and keep it filled. Choose to feel loved. Wayne Dyer says to himself daily, “I want to feel good.” Feel the cooperation of the universe towards your goodness. It comes down to what one wants to believe. Do you want to feel good? Some people want to stay angry, they like being sick, they benefit somehow from being the victim. It’s a much easier route; it’s our default condition. But my experience is that if a person feels loved, believes they’re lovable, and builds their story on that, it can alter the trajectory of their life. Did you know it’s possible to live as if no one and nothing is against you?

FS: This is pretty Oprah-ish. Thinking that the universe exists to serve you, that sounds pretty arrogant. Isn’t this just pride? Bad people change the energy of rooms too.

Mojo: Well, there is a fine line between pride and humility. It’s very humbling to admit to yourself, “I am awesome.” On the other hand, it can be prideful to believe “I suck.” Which is easier to believe? Which takes more courage? Which holds me more accountable?

FS: Say more.

Mojo: Is it pride or humility that refuses charity? Who’s going to bring more energy to the room (and the good kind)—a person who believes their very existence is proof that they are a beautiful gift to earth, or a person ashamed, embarrassed, jealous of everyone else, and self-loathing?

FS: I’m starting to wonder if the room could handle being full of such egos?

Mojo: Actually, it couldn’t; the human ego is in survival mode and they would all stampede each other to feed their anemic self-image. I’m talking about a healthy lack of ego—a self that is at rest, comfortable in its own skin, and free to love and serve others. This is the paradox of true power.

FS: So, so far we have childlike wonder, a love of life, a full love-cup . . . anything else?

Mojo: Yes, I think it’s important to see everything—the universe, every tree, every human, even our words and behavior—as continuous expressions of Art. Call it God’s Art if you like. From the Big Bang to this moment. As time marches on, the Art is happening in the push-pull friction of life and death, success and failure, function and dysfunction, excitement and boredom, heaven and hell. And nothing is wasted. We grow from everything. We’re all part of the paint and clay and poetry of the constant unveiling of what is. Because life is Art, neither pragmatic in nature nor subject to judgment, I bear no shame and no fear. Everything just is. And we can choose to see Beauty in it; not aesthetic beauty (because it’s often ugly), but inherent beauty. This is in the eye of the beholder. And since we become what we behold, we are the Art and the beauty . . . in all our contradictions. This empowers me to be who I’ve come here to be and do what is mine to do.

FS: So these are your suspicions of what makes you a carrier of unique energy?

Mojo: Yes. I suppose so. But keep in mind, energy is no respecter of persons; it doesn’t care who accesses it. Nobody is special. And because, according to Einstein, it has no beginning or end, energy never dies. Let’s presume that it is in infinite supply and available to whomever wants it. We know that the universe is made up of energy. Atoms are made up of energy; all matter is energy, constantly moving—even when it is still. This energy that we’re talking about, even though it doesn’t have a personality, it nonetheless has a life, like a rushing river, whereas it finds the lowest point and fills it. A human soul can create a reservoir for this energy to fill. I create that space by seeing life as Art and loving life in all its messiness. This lack of judgment seems to elevate the energy. It goes where it is welcome, and it is welcomed by those who see beauty in what is, say yes to it, and become a conduit of its power. Give it a try . . .

FS: I’ll do that.