Rising From Ashes: Discover Your Hidden Power Through Adversity

Rising From Ashes: Discover Your Hidden Power Through Adversity

by Claudia T Nelson
Rising From Ashes: Discover Your Hidden Power Through Adversity

Rising From Ashes: Discover Your Hidden Power Through Adversity

by Claudia T Nelson

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Overview

One woman’s heroic journey that puts two notorious con men behind bars. . .an inspiring story of what can be accomplished when one refuses to be a victim.
Claudia is the best gumshoe (detective) vigilante I have ever met, an incredible sleuth whose work has inspired me and many others. —Dirk Smillie Sr., Writer, Forbes Magazine
After loosing her life savings in a Ponzi scheme, acclaimed Personal Empowerment specialist Claudia Nelson reveals practical and unique solutions that pack a real wallop in transforming life’s challenges into a blessing, demystifying such topics as:
- How to find the real powerful you by stripping away… who you are not
- Why PANN people are more vulnerable to being conned and abused.
- How your two thought systems work to imprison or free you
- How to find, and dig out, the root of any problem rather than snipping away at its leaves, empowering you to transform any challenge into a blessing
Engaging, entertaining and informative. "Rising from Ashes" is also transformative—a How To Guide for anyone who wants to overcome adversity and become all they are capable of becoming. The book gives scientific evidence why her methods work.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781600379963
Publisher: Morgan James Publishing
Publication date: 01/01/2012
Pages: 266
Sales rank: 338,839
Product dimensions: 5.90(w) x 8.90(h) x 0.80(d)

About the Author

Claudia Nelson is a Certified Communication Counselor, started a 501(c)3 non-profit organization, International Association for Families (IAF) to create safer communities for families after hermother and sister were murdered in a robbery; she funded the association with her inheritance money and with the money she made from developing and running an extremely successful rehabilitation course in the courts for those with drinking and domestic abuse problems. One of the International Programs she did was with the Huichol Indians in the Sierra Madras who were loosing 1/3 of their babies due to a contaminated water supply. Claudia got the natives at Las Guayabas a clean water system and a small hospital and helped several other Huichol Villages in the area.  
After losing her life savings in an International Ponzi scheme, she worked with victims, the courts, the IRS, the FBI and a deep throat informant for eight years until we had the con men in prison. Dirk Smillie, who wrote the article about the Ponzi scheme for Forbes magazine wrote,  “Claudia is the best gumshoe (detective) vigilante I have ever seen.”
Claudia Nelson’s self-help articles have been published nationally and internationally. Claudia’s trainings are transformational.

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

I'VE BEEN CONNED!

Each friend [and experience] represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

— Writer Anaïs Nin

I remember the moment I realized ... I'd been conned. I can still feel the feelings. I'm standing in the doorway of my office feeling like someone had suddenly drained my entire body of blood and replaced it with ice water. My skin feels cold and clammy and I'm disoriented, as if I were moving into another dimension of reality to escape the pain of this one. I had become a statistic. It happened because I met a man, a con man that is, by the name of Dennis D. Cope and a new world was born ... although not one of my conscious choosing.

I learned from an Associated Press study that in 2009, Americans were cheated out of $16.5 billion in some sort of scheme. With approximately 300 million people in the United States, that translates into one in every eighteen Americans. Since Bernie Madoff, one particular type of scam — the Ponzi scheme — has become a household word. That became blatantly clear when I took my grandkids to the sweet shop and found a tiny package of peppermint gum that contained two little gum squares; on the box was a good- looking shirtless guy with these words over his chest: "Ask me about my Ponzi scheme."

Here I am to tell you about mine. I share it as a learning experience to help you avoid anything similar, or help you recover if you've already been caught in a scam. But most of all I share it because what I learned through it can change your life for the better and help you discover who you really are, as it did for me.

As I dealt with the fallout from my entanglement with a Ponzi scheme, I envied those who could just cry over their loss. I never allowed myself that luxury. Within minutes of that moment in the doorway, I had pulled myself together and took action. They weren't going to get away with this! The decisions I made at that moment made this book possible.

It was one of those turning points in life that alters your destiny, a turning point that would give birth to a whole new world, one that awakened me to a whole new perspective of life, new people and new possibilities.

We'll begin the story three years after the day I had the chilling recognition I had been conned. We'll begin with my courtroom encounter with my con man. After that court scene, I'll share the back-story and reveal answers to questions, such as why are con men so successful? What is the unseen damage they do? Did we fight back? The final chapters of this section will reveal the life-changing lessons and insights gained from the experience.

The story opens in the Sandra Day O'Conner federal courthouse in Phoenix, Arizona, where I'd gone to witness a low moment in the life of Dennis D. Cope, my own personal psychic vampire (one who lives by preying on others). Cope was about to be indicted on thirty-two counts of fraud and money laundering for engineering the Ponzi scheme that robbed me of my life savings.

Rushing through the streets of downtown Phoenix in my nylons, I arrive at the front door of the courthouse at 9 a.m. sharp. Bending over to put on my heels, I notice a wide run crawling up my leg. I ignore it and stare at the awesome glass structure; it seemed to be calling out to all would-be criminals, "Beware, we see you! Commit a crime and you'll end up in this courthouse feeling like you're living in a fishbowl, and you will be."

Security takes forever, and they seize my purse and camera. I'm frustrated because I'm late and start to argue but realize that would just take more time. I rush to the second-floor balcony, which all the courtrooms open onto. It is 9:10 a.m.

The courtrooms are hidden behind closed doors. Clustered around one door is a group of people, none of whom I recognize. One tall, well-built olive-skinned gentleman is leaning against the wall.

A sinking feeling sets in; I'm afraid our case has already begun behind one of those closed doors. Had I flown all this way to arrive just in time to miss the big moment? The thought horrified me.

Another group of people standing by the balcony railing catches my eye; one of them is leaning over the rail, while several people gather around him. I'll check them out; maybe some of them belonged to our case.

I approach the group; a sea of dark, drab suits and dresses. At 5'11" in 3- inch heels, wearing an ankle-length tangerine linen dress and stress-frosted hair, I immediately catch their attention. I ask several individuals on the outside of the cluster whether they are connected with the Cope case. They are not. They're waiting for another case to conclude.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I turn and again notice the group standing next to the courtroom doors and the handsome black man nearby. I begin my trek back across the long, wide hallway. Since I'm the only victim there, it's up to me to gather information. Who is here representing our case? Who is the opposition? I'm about to find out.

And I'm about to meet in flesh and blood our Vampire SWAT (Special Wisdom and Techniques) team. These are the government officials, state and national, who'd worked with me to put Cope away. For the past three years, I've known them only as voices on the phone as we worked together to put Cope behind bars. Later I'll describe them in more detail. For now, all you need to know is they were there to witness this event.

As I'm talking to one of the SWAT team members, I happen to glance over at the other group clustered by the rail, the one I'd approached first. They all break away from the railing and begin walking down the huge corridors towards the elevators. As they moved away, three lone figures stand revealed, huddled against the railing.

CHAPTER 2

THE INVISIBLE FORCE

If all hearts were open and all desires known as they would be if people showed their souls, how many gapping, sightings, clenched fists, knotted brows, broad grins, and red eyes should we see ...

— Author Thomas Hardy

That moment of spotting the trio became, for me, a powerful reminder that we're all vulnerable behind our masks of self-confidence.

The smaller of the two men, wearing a dark business suit, scans the first floor as though making mental notes of everyone who entered. A tall, overweight woman wearing a tight-fitting skirt and blouse stands beside him, her dishwater blonde hair severely pulled back from her face and fastened in a bun. Next to her stands a heavyset oval-shaped man with curly black neck- length hair who is also dressed in a dark business suit.

Suddenly, the man leaning over the rail straightens himself and looks in my direction. Could it be? Oh my gosh ... it is! Denny Cope — and his wife, Dana! The oval-shaped man had to be Cope's high-priced attorney! The once-handsome and charming Cope, the con, and his once-beautiful wife, Dana, look terrible. Pangs of compassion engulf me. They look so very different than the charming golden couple I'd last seen three years ago.

Our last encounter took place in a beautiful, peaceful setting at the Hyatt Hotel in Scottsdale, Arizona. By that time, the promised return on our investment had never appeared. Cope always had an excuse, but many of the investors were becoming suspicious. My husband and I invited the Copes to dinner, thinking that if we got them alone without the adoring fans, the real Dennis Cope and his true intentions might reveal themselves. I wanted to give him every opportunity to redeem himself before I went to the attorney general in Phoenix.

Denny graciously accepted the invitation, but he brought along his sidekick, Dan Echols, and Dan's wife. If we got Cope to slip up and tell us the truth, he could deny it and Dan would be his witness. Still, getting him with only two adoring fans would still be an improvement over the usual crowd.

Arriving at the parking lot of the Hyatt, we see Cope and group pull in and park a few cars away from ours. Denny and Dana get out of the car, he with his stately presence and good looks and she with her long blonde wavy hair, pleasant face and sexy figure. They looked as if they were stepping right out of a fashion magazine, a gorgeous couple who would stand out in any crowd. Dan and his wife, although pleasant and wholesome-looking, just couldn't compare.

Despite our suspicions, the evening turns into an entertaining meal with friends. The evening is so pleasant I hardly mind getting nothing of substance from Denny — except he does admit he's bought a golf course, then proceeds to justify it. I realize he's actually exposed one of his money- laundering schemes.

When it comes time to pay, Denny grabs the bill before I can.

"But we invited you out; we should pay the bill," I protest.

Charming as ever, he won't have it; we finally succumb. Cope pays.

At that moment, though, something odd happens that I again dismiss. When he sees the amount of the bill, Cope looks a little surprised. He turns his shoulder to us as he pulls out his wallet and thumbs through, as though concerned he doesn't have enough money. Then Dana turns away from us and goes through her purse for more cash. All the time I wonder, "Why doesn't he just use a credit card like everyone else does?"

Still, I remember that beautiful evening we spent together and what a striking and charming couple the Copes made. With that image still in my head, it was shocking to see them now.

Observing Cope

Why is Cope now leaning over the rail looking at the floor below? Is he thinking of jumping? Ending it all by smashing himself on the marble floor below? Is he looking to see how many other victims would show up?

He appears smaller than I had remembered. His brown hair, once dyed with a flamboyant tint of red, is now a dull and lifeless brown. Patches of dye on his skin near the hairline reveal his secret. "It's a cheap home dye job," I'm thinking. "Designed to con the judge, to make him feel sorry for Cope, that he can't even afford to have a professional dye job." A master con man knows all the subtle nuances of his trade, and he uses them to deceive smart, successful people to get what he wants.

I stare at him for a long time and as I register all the changes in him, I think, "There stands a hurting man." It's almost as if a tiny portion of the accumulated pain he's inflicted on thousands of victims had broken loose and found its way back to its rightful owner. Looking at his lifeless face, I realize I'm seeing a human whose dark deeds are reflected in the dark aura that surrounds him, visible to anyone. Even the light streaming through the glass walls of the building can't obscure that sensation of darkness that surrounds him. Then I feel something I can only describe as a mixture of compassion mixed with satisfaction ... we had him! We'd stopped his rampage of serial destruction. Universal law had remained constant, and what I described to my children as the "law of the boomerang" (what you put out comes back) had again proven itself. Yet Cope's shrunken body and shriveled soul caused compassion to tug at my senses.

The Invisible Force

Suddenly I feel an invisible phantom-like force push me from behind. I find my legs carrying me across the balcony towards Cope, where he and his wife Dana still stand, leaning against the rail. I think, "What is happening? What am I doing? Yikes! I'm about to come face to face with this ... this ... this destroyer of lives, this psychic vampire! What will I do? What will I say?"

Cope and I lock eyes, but I detect no emotion in the connection. As I stand there staring at the startling changes in this man, I have to remind myself that this is the man who has destroyed hundreds, even thousands of lives, and that some of his victims even committed suicide. I suspect other victims wished their value systems had allowed them to do the same.

I extend my hand to shake his. His upper arm remains pressed to his side and only his lower arm, from elbow to hand, pops up. He shakes my hand. To be more accurate, he allows me to shake his hand. His face shows no sign of emotion. He just stares at me with stone cold eyes. I feel the deadness — the total lack of emotion — that lurks behind the stare.

I return the look with much softer eyes and say, "I'm sorry it has come to this, Denny. I want you to know it's nothing personal."

Still no emotion ... no response. It feels as though I am interacting with a robot or someone highly medicated. He glares at me without uttering a word, as if I'm the guilty party, the criminal.

My mind suddenly flashes back to my college years and Sociology 101. My redheaded professor stands in front of the blackboard lecturing on psychological defense mechanisms. She points to the far right of the defense spectrum she has drawn and explains that denial and projection are the sickest of all defenses. She further explains that anyone who uses this defense is usually some kind of an addict, one who denies they have a problem and projects it into someone else.

Bingo! Could anything better describe what just happened here? It validates my belief that con artists are addicts. In this moment, Cope is silently using the defenses at the far right on the spectrum, the sickest ones — denial and projection.

Coming Face to Face with Dana Cope

Taking a step to the left, I stand in front of Dana Cope. Her once lovely appearance is changed as well; her professionally frosted, long wavy hair has given way to dishwater blonde with several inches of mousy brown roots. She looks homely and heavy. Was this part of the courtroom con as well?

Still I feel sorry for her, believing her to be a fellow victim of her silver- tongued husband. As I prepare to put my arms around her and give her a compassionate hug, I encounter the sensation of attempting to hug a cement post with laser guns focused at my head.

Then I see it. Dana had become sucked into her husband's make-believe world where everything appears upside down and inside out; the guilty are the innocent, and the innocent are the guilty — a world where life is lived more as fiction than as fact. She abetted him and supported him in every way, keeping his books and doing anything else he asked, all the time seeing herself as a loving wife instead of as the enabler she is. How sad to be so duped. In her mind, I'm the bad guy, the one most responsible for getting her husband indicted. Never mind the fact that he more than deserved it and needed to be held accountable.

Enablers are as addicted to protecting the addict as the addict is to, in this case, conning. Enablers never seem to comprehend that by supporting an addict, they're helping destroy them both. They are both denying and projecting. I wish I could make them see that my decision to report Cope did not originate from a personal vendetta. It wasn't my objective to destroy him. My only motivation: To destroy his chances of harming future victims or further harming present victims. I'd heard the victims' stories, and my whole soul ached for them; they had become my friends. I'm certain that Cope is an addict, addicted to image and money, and probably power and control; I realize he can't stop conning unless he is put in prison, where he won't have the chance.

Relieved the encounter appears to be ending, I slowly back away. The huge courtroom doors begin to open. Our case is next. As I move towards the open door, I'm still contemplating this startling picture of a man and his wife I once knew, and I wonder, "How could a religious man allow his mind to bring him to this place, to reduce himself to what he is now?" It's a question many have contemplated.

A quote I once heard came to mind, something to the effect that "Religion at its best is the same as psychotherapy; it's a movement of the mind that starts all other movement. Thought puts energy into motion."

As I considered this, my 99% voice whispered, "Any time our confused 1% mind takes hold of anything, it creates problems with that thing. You know that's its nature; it is always confused. Yet, if religion is interpreted by one's 99% mind, it can free and empower an individual.

The voice continued, "You understand that most people don't know they have two minds, or how to get from one to the other; that's why you're writing this book. It's essential information, for if they don't know, they can't control it, and then their fearful 1% mind takes over — it's every person's default setting. This mind uses religion to judge, condemn, separate us from our brother, make us feel less than, and creates guilt. It fosters thoughts that not only separate us from others but also separates us from our divine 99% self. Feeling separated from self, and less than, creates a black hole inside that they attempt to fill with something on the outside. That's an addiction.

"With an addiction, enough is never enough because you can't fill up an empty space on the inside with something from the outside, unless what you are attempting to fill is an empty stomach!"

(Continues…)


Excerpted from "Rising from Ashes"
by .
Copyright © 2011 Claudia T. Nelson.
Excerpted by permission of Morgan James Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

The Phoenix Bird Legend,
Acknowledgments,
SECTION ONE: AN (OPEN) GUT VIEW OF THE EGO WORLD,
Prologue:,
Introduction: The Worlds We Live In,
Chapter One: I've Been Conned!,
Chapter Two: The Invisible Force,
Chapter Three: Con Man in the Courtroom,
Chapter Four: Victimized Twice,
Chapter Five: Fear Makes Us Vulnerable,
Chapter Six: How Con Men Manipulate Our Perceptions,
Chapter Seven: How We Fought Back,
Chapter Eight: Con Men Are Psychic Vampires ... Who Live Off Psychic Wounds,
Chapter Nine: Con Men and Money Addiction,
Chapter Ten: The Language of the Con Artist: The Language of Seduction,
Chapter Eleven: Language that Healed,
Chapter Twelve: Endings and Beginnings,
SECTION TWO: EXPERIENCING A BETTER WORLD,
Introduction: Beyond The Five Senses,
Chapter Thirteen: Money Is Like Water,
Chapter Fourteen: Miracle in the Desert,
Chapter Fifteen: The Russian Who Saved America,
Chapter Sixteen: The Thrift Store Jacket,
Chapter Seventeen: Anna's Story,
Chapter Eighteen: Old Radio,
SECTION THREE: PLASTIC SURGERY FOR THE SOUL,
Introduction,
Chapter Twenty: A New Layer of Self...An Evolutionary Leap,
Chapter Twenty-One: Creating Miracles,
Chapter Twenty-Two: How Thoughts Create Our Experience,
Chapter Twenty-Three: When Enough Is Never Enough,
Chapter Twenty-Four: What Is Ego?,
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Technology of Forgiveness,
Appendix:,
Epilogue,

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