Cindi, our dog, has convinced me that souls do talk to each other and/or destinies are pre-determined.
At the very least, there are signals laid out for us if we observe with care.
Gifts and options are spread before us along the way.
We have free will and can choose to recognize and explore them or we can close up our hearts, ignoring our power and discarding opportunities that could have been beneficial to us.
I read somewhere that the artist who doesn’t ponder death much is probably not much of one. I understand. Once you go there, your creations get richer, deeper. If you avoid it, it will still come.
The ego does not want to be forgotten. If you read, you know a writer can entice you into their world, their time and space. If you appreciate music, you know a composer can tear your heart open, send you back in memory and land you back safely with the last note. If you love art, most of what you stare at is speaking to you from a gone dimension.
I believe we are all creative. I believe we all want to be remembered. I know I want to express myself so I will leave some sort of legacy, as well as share my soul. One human form reaching out from the crypt to another, alive and in the future.
I know I am wonderful, bright, a teacher and a giver.
I know the best of me is a dreamer, has an artistic bent and nourishes others.
When I do not inspire myself or others by not being me, it is a sad day indeed for you and for me.
I give counsel from sharing my own experience. I guide others with a torch to light deeply inside the crevices.
I teach others to think outside the box. I can teach anything I am given to instruct by breaking it down into small, simple steps. That’s my gift.
When I don’t specialize in excelling, everyone loses.
Who are we? There is a radical relevance to our owning our power and making connections. It serves us well. It serves others. It honors my Goddess, in me and in you.
The art of the web is an earthling construct but an innately natural design.
The essence of my being wants to reach you with words, nurse you with spoken or written caresses and give back to my fellow travelers, using symbols we agree on, beyond, below and through a feeling we are all initially born with.
So who are you? What do you know deep down about you?
Give me the best of you. Show me your gifts.
I just wanted to share some excepts from yesterday’s book review that might not show up when you sample the book on the internet.
From Writing Still – “For a while, I thought I might want to be a pianist…I see now that the piano was my training ground…I was preparing for a lifetime of working with words. The phrasing, the pauses, the crescendos and diminuendos, keeping time, the creating of shape…All these are with me as I approach the page.”
“…what goes on internally…is gripping to the point of leaving the reader breathless. We are guided deep into the inner world…tracing thought after thought until we are him, we become him, and this is literature doing its job, which is to penetrate the surface, to dismantle the ordinary, to find the dropped stitch, to show us that we are-all of us-built of these…moments, that they mark the turning points of our lives.”
Isn’t that delectable and rewarding to read and sink into?
And from When Women Were Birds – “My mother left me her journals, and all her journals were blank. My mother’s journals are a shadow play with mine. I am a woman wedded to words. Words cast a shadow. Without a shadow there is no depth… no substance. If we have no shadow, it means we are invisible. As long as I have a shadow, I am alive.” – this is after seeing Strauss’s opera “The woman without a shadow”, a myth. She explains the entire story and deduces the above. And then she goes on to say, “We are all held captive by something. My mother’s prison was her prescribed role.”
She has great one liners I think can be taken out of context too. ” True eloquence has an edge, sharp and clean.”
She interprets Claudine Herrmann. ” We either flee and disappear or steal, adopt, and adapt to the dominant language of men, often at our own expense.” – ” I thought if the feminine voice (for lack of a better term) continues to be eclipsed, every aspect of virile thinking will be emblazoned across the face of the Earth at all our peril.”
She makes you ponder your greatness, your need to express yourself and save the small and large parts of nature and of yourself.
I urge every woman to read more women writers.
Before I proceed I need to warn you this is my generation’s perspective and is changing subtly yet slowly.
Reading about women’s writing lives has a familiarity to it. Unlike men, their roles are rigidly defined. To escape and have a room of one’s own like Virginia Woolf describes has hardly evolved much, as far as I can tell. Every male author has had a wife, sister or caregiver who takes care of him but most females are still expected to be housekeepers, moms and devoted wives. Yes, I know there are exceptions, but this is generally the scenario.
Case in point: Still Writing, The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life by Dani Shapiro. With deft and defiance, she navigates her writerly life. Having a family and settling down in the countryside, she carefully explains the ups and downs of writing around her family’s needs and timetables. Her husband commutes to his writing job. What I surmised after reading her memoir about her chosen career is that when you write from home, the boundaries must be drawn in bold type, not in sand. Is this what Hemingway meant by a writer must bleed?
When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams is another meditative, lyrical and intentional read. It is not strange that I read these together. Both are personal, insightful and a bit radical. William’s theme is the invisibility of her mother and the metaphorical silent suffering of our mother earth. TTW is a conservationist, a liberated Mormon and a lifelong amateur ornithologist. There is much to digest in her fifty four chapters (to correlate with her mother’s 54 years of life). She inserts facts like whispers on the page, leaving you with an emotional charge. I had to read this in drips and drabs. The content is beyond symbolic.
Both of these women writers left me wanting to hear more of their music. I would recommend these two books highly if mature, non-fiction is your favorite genre.
We are so conditioned by society to behave a certain way, think inside boxes and treat ourselves, problems and others in predetermined manners.
I say that’s what kills the creative, independent, confident, free thinker in all of us. Breaking through whatever circumstance you are born into, we fight our way back to our pure authentic selves, hopefully. At least, I think that’s what mindfulness, awakening to our soul and meditation is all about.
I am enough. I shun the shackles. I am the only one who can liberate me. That’s the journey and where you find meaning in life.
Rather than remaining a victim of chance, a puppet cut out from everyone else’s thoughts of who you are where labels are imposed on us – what if – we stopped pleasing others (within limits, of course, I am not a beast nor do I want to return to primitive behavior)? Stopped being a servant to norms? and what if we owned our powerful, talented, brilliant selves without feeling conceited or selfish?
Sounds like women’s/people’s lib to me. Count me in.
Let’s bring in honesty. Let’s agree that whether you are listening to Osteen’s optimistic sermons or believe in Karma, having a positive image and opinion of yourself works to your benefit – and therefore everyone around you.
For too long I have been under the illusion that belittling myself was attractive to others. It helped you attain greatness. Meanwhile, I was swimming in self doubt and eventually, self loathing. This path leads to destruction, despair and depression. Wallowing in your flaws and asserting their existence only perpetuates them further into your life. It is totally useless.
At first, I had to make believe I was worthy. I have been saying affirmations for more than a dozen years. I am pretty thick headed.
Lately, I have had a shift. I feel I deserve to go ahead and claim my gifts.
If you are dying to do something – write, meditate and pray on it. The answers will come.
For so many years I have dreamt, educated myself, marinated and desired to believe in myself. I have worked hard to get to this place.
I know the better you feel about yourself, the better the world looks and the more you attract the best people into your life. It gives you confidence to follow through on your passions and pursue them in earnest.
This year is my year and I am going to make it happen because the Universe is on my side, the time is ripe and I feel motivated and driven!
I am worthy. I do deserve to be accomplished and a success in my chosen field!
So do you.
Ok – Let’s get clear – for the New Year!
Some people are going to want to gather up Christmas, put away and just watch TV and rest.
Others are going to sweep, dust and declutter.
A few will peek inside and do some inner work too.
We are going to attempt all of that!
Share only what you want and be careful with whom.
I love to color. I love to interconnect my passions. Like a prism with many sides, I am a kaleidoscope of hues with a myriad of tonal qualities.
We are all rich and abundant in resplendent glory.
2017 is my time to shine.
On the road to wisdom and inner beauty, you learn to keep a nurturing set of tools in your memory file. Meditation, painting, coloring, physically removing yourself into a quiet space, cooking, gardening, writing, reading, walking, yoga, observing nature and daydreaming are examples of instruments, dalliances and pastimes you can use to recharge your inner sanctum.
Here is what taking time out for yourself can reveal:
Syncing with your soul opens up all the doors and windows.
The Portal