I haven't been around for a couple of months because I haven't been sure what to talk about. My life has felt quite empty for the past few months. Spiritually, I've been more in the Earth element than the Air element (and I generally live in the Air). As a result, I've been doing things, trying things, touching parts of myself that I didn't know I had.
As a result, I've been knowingly helping a guy cheat on his girlfriend.
As atypical as that is for me, I don't feel badly about it. In the past, such an act would have violated many, many parts of my soul and heart and my head wouldn't have been able to wrap itself around the concept. But, at this present time, I've needed the experience.
For many moons, my soul has been quiet. I've tried activating it, but nothing has worked. Until this little affair. This affair has stirred me in some unexpected ways. I don't know what I thought would happen, but I certainly didn't think I'd drudge up all this pain.
Because this man is not mine, because he's a jerk to his girlfriend, because he wants to dominate and control me, because he thinks it's what I want from him, because he wants me more than I'll ever want him, because...
I have felt comfortable with him. He was a secret desire that I never acted upon and never admitted to myself that I even wanted. For a year, I'd see him and publicly despise him and he'd look in my eyes and see my want. He says he loves my eyes. He says they look exotic, strange. Then he says that maybe that's because of the things I think.
Maybe it is.
Truth be told, I think some fucked up shit. I am full of positivity and light, but I am also full of shadows and death. At times my cup runneth over. The shadows spill out. The death looks so becoming. And, I find a man to smother with it all.
Lucky him. He loves the sex. He loves the kissing. He loves the fighting.
I love that I'm letting it out. All this pain and sorrow and despair. It has no place to go without him. I dislike him and need him at the same time. In him, I've found a safe place to put my lower vibrations. And, since that is who he is, he can take it. He has no problem with it.
He reminds me a lot of my ex-husband. That same darkness of soul. Until him, I always wondered why people like that existed. Now, I think I understand. I use him. I relieve myself with him. And, he won't be any worse for the wear. I can put all my negativity upon him and it won't damage him.
What a useful little human. What an ingenious invention these assholes were.
My body craves him because my soul craves the relief.
My soul craves him because my body craves the relief.
My head is tired of it all. My head wants out. And, since my soul has finally come back to life, I can release him. If I stay with him too long, it'll go too far. The shadows will overtake me and I honestly like the light. I don't want to be totally in the dark. One foot in, one foot out...that's the way for me.
December 28, 2008
October 21, 2008
this is where the healing begins
I believe that thoughts create our realities, and, yet, I've acted victimized by my thoughts of late.
I wonder why that is so.
If I get to choose the thoughts I hold on to, why hold on to ones that don't serve me well? Reading chapter four in Louise Hay's book, You Can Heal Your Life, I am confronted with my pattern of self-harm. She compares choosing thoughts to being in a buffet line and then says, "Now, if you choose thoughts that will create problems and pain, that's rather foolish. It's like choosing food that always makes you ill. We may do this once or twice, but as soon as we learn which foods upset our bodies, we stay away from them."
That's what she thinks.
That passage resonated because I, indeed, choose foods that harm my body on a pretty regular basis. A few times a year, I binge on dairy, a food my body no longer tolerates well. It turns into vaginal madness and it's both unnecessary and unwelcome. Yet, I do it anyway. Sometimes, I get angry that my food choices are so limited. I want to be able to eat the processed, crappy foods sometimes. And, some form of dairy is in all the ones I prefer. So, I binge.
I was working on my thoughts about dairy, since I know the problem is more spiritual than physical (well, what problem isn't, right?), but I got away from being that present and at one with my body and I now am dealing with things I'd rather not share, thanks. My mind got me into it and my mind (with the aid of a few over the counter products) will get me out, but that's not the point.
The point is that if I'll do this with food, why won't I do it with thoughts?
I've decided umteen times to be the change I wish to see in the world. Why doesn't it stick? Why do I later choose to be the lazy I wish to see in the world? Perhaps I am just human, stuck in the ebb and flow of life.
But, honestly, I know I'm above all this back and forth. I know I can stay away from both foods and thoughts that harm my body. I know I can choose thoughts that benefit me more often than thoughts that harm me. I know I can heal my life.
So mote it be.
I wonder why that is so.
If I get to choose the thoughts I hold on to, why hold on to ones that don't serve me well? Reading chapter four in Louise Hay's book, You Can Heal Your Life, I am confronted with my pattern of self-harm. She compares choosing thoughts to being in a buffet line and then says, "Now, if you choose thoughts that will create problems and pain, that's rather foolish. It's like choosing food that always makes you ill. We may do this once or twice, but as soon as we learn which foods upset our bodies, we stay away from them."
That's what she thinks.
That passage resonated because I, indeed, choose foods that harm my body on a pretty regular basis. A few times a year, I binge on dairy, a food my body no longer tolerates well. It turns into vaginal madness and it's both unnecessary and unwelcome. Yet, I do it anyway. Sometimes, I get angry that my food choices are so limited. I want to be able to eat the processed, crappy foods sometimes. And, some form of dairy is in all the ones I prefer. So, I binge.
I was working on my thoughts about dairy, since I know the problem is more spiritual than physical (well, what problem isn't, right?), but I got away from being that present and at one with my body and I now am dealing with things I'd rather not share, thanks. My mind got me into it and my mind (with the aid of a few over the counter products) will get me out, but that's not the point.
The point is that if I'll do this with food, why won't I do it with thoughts?
I've decided umteen times to be the change I wish to see in the world. Why doesn't it stick? Why do I later choose to be the lazy I wish to see in the world? Perhaps I am just human, stuck in the ebb and flow of life.
But, honestly, I know I'm above all this back and forth. I know I can stay away from both foods and thoughts that harm my body. I know I can choose thoughts that benefit me more often than thoughts that harm me. I know I can heal my life.
So mote it be.
September 17, 2008
soul ramblings
Tonight, the moon will enter Taurus around 9pm Eastern. I think that's a good time to do some money work.
Once again, I remembered that I want to learn more about Sacred Geometry. I visited my friend's store, yesterday, and she has a sacred geometry book and card set for sale. She says the book is fantastic and since I need to work on adding Earth to my Air, I'm going to buy the set so I can work with the cards. Adding the dimension of touch really helps me when it comes to connecting the world to my spirituality. That is what tarot has taught me.
All in all, my life is going extremely well. I start a job tomorrow evening and money has been flowing to me pretty effortlessly this past month or so. I am grateful for that and wish myself continued success along that line.
Last night, I rearranged my bedroom. I have two altars in it and they needed softening and integrating. I put a runner on top of my dresser (where I keep one small offering altar) and a triangular, embroidered scarf on top of the bookcase (where I keep my Yemoja/mother energy altar). Those minor touches added exactly the sort of energy I was looking for: mystery combined with gentleness. I am pleased.
Next on my list of things to do is figure out what to do with the blank, white space above my bed. I was thinking of getting a headboard, but...I really don't want a headboard. I like having my bed flush with the wall and sitting on the floor. I find bed frames a bit pretentious. My bedroom isn't that sort of room.
I came across a large corkboard that I'd picked up months ago and still haven't used. I think it's the perfect size for above my bed, although I'm not sure what I'd put on it for decoration. I want that area to represent the Feminine, so...lots of flowers, lace, ribbons, and things like that. I want, too, for it to be spiritually functional. I would like it to combine majick and love. Ooooh! I just got a bit of a tingle. LOL Maybe I can incorporate sacred geometry with it...
I guess that's my new project. I'll figure something out. I'm excited!
Life is good, man. Life is good.
Once again, I remembered that I want to learn more about Sacred Geometry. I visited my friend's store, yesterday, and she has a sacred geometry book and card set for sale. She says the book is fantastic and since I need to work on adding Earth to my Air, I'm going to buy the set so I can work with the cards. Adding the dimension of touch really helps me when it comes to connecting the world to my spirituality. That is what tarot has taught me.
All in all, my life is going extremely well. I start a job tomorrow evening and money has been flowing to me pretty effortlessly this past month or so. I am grateful for that and wish myself continued success along that line.
Last night, I rearranged my bedroom. I have two altars in it and they needed softening and integrating. I put a runner on top of my dresser (where I keep one small offering altar) and a triangular, embroidered scarf on top of the bookcase (where I keep my Yemoja/mother energy altar). Those minor touches added exactly the sort of energy I was looking for: mystery combined with gentleness. I am pleased.
Next on my list of things to do is figure out what to do with the blank, white space above my bed. I was thinking of getting a headboard, but...I really don't want a headboard. I like having my bed flush with the wall and sitting on the floor. I find bed frames a bit pretentious. My bedroom isn't that sort of room.
I came across a large corkboard that I'd picked up months ago and still haven't used. I think it's the perfect size for above my bed, although I'm not sure what I'd put on it for decoration. I want that area to represent the Feminine, so...lots of flowers, lace, ribbons, and things like that. I want, too, for it to be spiritually functional. I would like it to combine majick and love. Ooooh! I just got a bit of a tingle. LOL Maybe I can incorporate sacred geometry with it...
I guess that's my new project. I'll figure something out. I'm excited!
Life is good, man. Life is good.
August 25, 2008
reach out and touch one's self
Spirituality is an active noun. That's what I'm remembering. I can not be passive and still reap the benefits of spirituality. I must actively endeavor toward spiritual things. I must persist.
That is not always something I feel like doing. The appeal of going to church once or twice a week and reading someone else's ideas about God and life is great at times. I suppose, in those moments, the force is weak within me.
For the last couple of weeks, I've been erecting a makeshift altar on my bedroom floor, lighting a candle and arranging some rocks on it, and thinking. Maybe it's more meditation than thought, but it starts out with thinking. I sit and I ask someone (anyone) to help me understand whatever it is that I need to understand. And, it works. I gain clarity and calm.
But, I can't say that it's someone else talking to me. No. What I've come to fully comprehend is that the goddess in me is fully active in my psyche, as long as I talk to her. And, she knows everything. And, she's willing to share that knowledge. I just have to ask.
In order to ask, one must be active, not passive.
This is what I need to remember.
That is not always something I feel like doing. The appeal of going to church once or twice a week and reading someone else's ideas about God and life is great at times. I suppose, in those moments, the force is weak within me.
For the last couple of weeks, I've been erecting a makeshift altar on my bedroom floor, lighting a candle and arranging some rocks on it, and thinking. Maybe it's more meditation than thought, but it starts out with thinking. I sit and I ask someone (anyone) to help me understand whatever it is that I need to understand. And, it works. I gain clarity and calm.
But, I can't say that it's someone else talking to me. No. What I've come to fully comprehend is that the goddess in me is fully active in my psyche, as long as I talk to her. And, she knows everything. And, she's willing to share that knowledge. I just have to ask.
In order to ask, one must be active, not passive.
This is what I need to remember.
July 21, 2008
The saying goes: Living well is its own reward.
It gets thrown around when capitalistically wealthy people are talking about being capitalistically wealthy. However, it's never sounded like a money quote to me.
During my short, thirty-odd years on the planet, "living well" has always implied authenticity and happiness to me. When I was in high school, my parents were chastising me about something and they asked me, "What do you want?" in the exasperated tone they seemed to preserve for our interactions. I replied, "I want to be happy." My father quipped, "Everybody wants that, but it's not possible." My mother agreed.
Yay for my parents. Adding the pressure of misery to another soul.
That moment was one of my life-altering moments, though. In that moment, I saw that I could not look to them for an example of how to live. In that moment, I understood that I was alone in this world. In that moment, I began to live with purpose.
People say that everyone needs Haters. Haters help motivate you, keep you pushing for success. I don't like that mentality, but I understand it.
My parents are the force that keep me striving. I look upon my memories of them and vow to never turn out like them: miserable, sad, faithless. Because that's all it takes--faith. A little goes a long, long way. I used to say that the fact that I am forever hopeful and have a ton of faith is my only weakness. Now, I recognize that having faith and hope are signs of strength so great, even water couldn't wear it away. And, water's some powerful stuff.
I live well.
I'm not monetarily well-endowed, but I'm rich. Every day, I get up and decide to be the best me I can be. And, I succeed, because even when I'm in my Shadow Self, I am great. It takes a lot of authenticity and skill to be the meanest broad on Earth. I do it with pride.
I live well.
I don't always know exactly what to say, but I'm honest. And, when I speak, I speak from my heart. I speak with the intention of the purest sort of communication. Hear me and I hear you and we listen and grow. Together.
I live well.
I'm scarred, but scars are just proof that you've been alive. Life happens to us sometimes and that's nothing to be afraid of. Scar me, tear me up, rip me open. Just know that I'll keep breathing and striving and living. Even when you see me in the open casket...don't count me out. The life and faith and hope within me is too strong to succumb to Death.
I live well.
Because that's the only way I know how.
It gets thrown around when capitalistically wealthy people are talking about being capitalistically wealthy. However, it's never sounded like a money quote to me.
During my short, thirty-odd years on the planet, "living well" has always implied authenticity and happiness to me. When I was in high school, my parents were chastising me about something and they asked me, "What do you want?" in the exasperated tone they seemed to preserve for our interactions. I replied, "I want to be happy." My father quipped, "Everybody wants that, but it's not possible." My mother agreed.
Yay for my parents. Adding the pressure of misery to another soul.
That moment was one of my life-altering moments, though. In that moment, I saw that I could not look to them for an example of how to live. In that moment, I understood that I was alone in this world. In that moment, I began to live with purpose.
People say that everyone needs Haters. Haters help motivate you, keep you pushing for success. I don't like that mentality, but I understand it.
My parents are the force that keep me striving. I look upon my memories of them and vow to never turn out like them: miserable, sad, faithless. Because that's all it takes--faith. A little goes a long, long way. I used to say that the fact that I am forever hopeful and have a ton of faith is my only weakness. Now, I recognize that having faith and hope are signs of strength so great, even water couldn't wear it away. And, water's some powerful stuff.
I live well.
I'm not monetarily well-endowed, but I'm rich. Every day, I get up and decide to be the best me I can be. And, I succeed, because even when I'm in my Shadow Self, I am great. It takes a lot of authenticity and skill to be the meanest broad on Earth. I do it with pride.
I live well.
I don't always know exactly what to say, but I'm honest. And, when I speak, I speak from my heart. I speak with the intention of the purest sort of communication. Hear me and I hear you and we listen and grow. Together.
I live well.
I'm scarred, but scars are just proof that you've been alive. Life happens to us sometimes and that's nothing to be afraid of. Scar me, tear me up, rip me open. Just know that I'll keep breathing and striving and living. Even when you see me in the open casket...don't count me out. The life and faith and hope within me is too strong to succumb to Death.
I live well.
Because that's the only way I know how.
July 7, 2008
in the Now
I remember when I constantly lived in Fear, but it seems lifetimes ago. I remember when it was so easy for me to conjure feelings of anger and resentment. I remember it much in the same way I remember being an infant; I know it happened, but I can't really tell you what it was like.
Every day, I practice being truer to myself than I was in the past. I don't frame it that way in my mind, but that's obviously what I'm doing. I'm improving and improving and improving and due to the improvements, I've improved.
I've become someone I really admire and like. This is very helpful when I have my more insecure and sad thoughts, because I'm able to relinquish the more negative self-talk quickly due to the fact that I know those thoughts aren't my prevailing reality. As a result, I haven't been truly depressed this year. Maybe that doesn't seem like long, but when you've struggled with depression for 20 years or so, going six-seven months without a serious bout of it feels triumphant. Yes, I've felt sadness. Waves of it that lasted for a few days. But, no depression.
I try not to think too much about the Past. After all, it's over. At the end of each day of my life (around bedtime), I usually mentally go thru the day and make sure I've extracted the lessons I feel I would expect myself to have learned. If there is anything I need to think more on, I put it at the fore of my mind and resolve to think more about it later. I fall asleep thinking about why I'm unsettled by whatever it is I need to think about further and conversing with whomever it is that converses with me in those moments, shedding light on things and not allowing me a moment's self-deception.
Rarely, I'll awaken agitated. But, when I do, I know I need to do more introspection, more forgiveness, more putting-down-of-fear. And, it feels good to go thru this. Perhaps my mother was right: I'm a masochist.
But, this is how I know how to live in the Now. This is how I know how to take the Past, learn from it, and leave it in the Past, where it belongs. There was a time when I could not figure out how to separate the Past and the Now. There was a time when I lived for the Future, because the Past/Now felt so overwhelming.
No more.
I have to be firm with myself. When a thought pops up that may lead to sadness and delusion, I have to tell it to get out. When it won't leave, I have to practice Pranayama, recite mudras, reverberate Om throughout my head. This has not simply happened to me, this ability to stay in the Now and hence, the lack of depression. I work at it constantly. It is my job. My life depends upon it and I treat it as such.
There are really only two things I give this level of commitment to: living in the Now and Motherhood. I look at everything as Practice and there are some things I haven't practiced, yet, because I have found it more difficult to stay in the Now and do them at the same time (like be in an intimate, sexual relationship). Since staying in the Now takes priority at this point in my life, I've consciously released opportunities to practice those things. Over the weekend, I began an attempt at holding that against me, but then I remembered that I will have many more opportunities for that Practice. I'm in no rush.
I think. I mull. I analyze. Those are my constants, and so, every opportunity for Practice that I pass up is used as an opportunity to rehearse what that opportunity will look like in the Future. This helps build my confidence as I'm the sort of person who feels most comfortable when she can see the Past, Present, and Future simultaneously.
All of this happens in the Now. There is no other time for it to happen. And, because every Now is another moment's Past and another moment's Future, I am able to keep a wonderfully forgiving perspective on Life. Mine, in particular.
Sometimes, it amazes me how even the Past and Future are happening in the Now.
Every day, I practice being truer to myself than I was in the past. I don't frame it that way in my mind, but that's obviously what I'm doing. I'm improving and improving and improving and due to the improvements, I've improved.
I've become someone I really admire and like. This is very helpful when I have my more insecure and sad thoughts, because I'm able to relinquish the more negative self-talk quickly due to the fact that I know those thoughts aren't my prevailing reality. As a result, I haven't been truly depressed this year. Maybe that doesn't seem like long, but when you've struggled with depression for 20 years or so, going six-seven months without a serious bout of it feels triumphant. Yes, I've felt sadness. Waves of it that lasted for a few days. But, no depression.
I try not to think too much about the Past. After all, it's over. At the end of each day of my life (around bedtime), I usually mentally go thru the day and make sure I've extracted the lessons I feel I would expect myself to have learned. If there is anything I need to think more on, I put it at the fore of my mind and resolve to think more about it later. I fall asleep thinking about why I'm unsettled by whatever it is I need to think about further and conversing with whomever it is that converses with me in those moments, shedding light on things and not allowing me a moment's self-deception.
Rarely, I'll awaken agitated. But, when I do, I know I need to do more introspection, more forgiveness, more putting-down-of-fear. And, it feels good to go thru this. Perhaps my mother was right: I'm a masochist.
But, this is how I know how to live in the Now. This is how I know how to take the Past, learn from it, and leave it in the Past, where it belongs. There was a time when I could not figure out how to separate the Past and the Now. There was a time when I lived for the Future, because the Past/Now felt so overwhelming.
No more.
I have to be firm with myself. When a thought pops up that may lead to sadness and delusion, I have to tell it to get out. When it won't leave, I have to practice Pranayama, recite mudras, reverberate Om throughout my head. This has not simply happened to me, this ability to stay in the Now and hence, the lack of depression. I work at it constantly. It is my job. My life depends upon it and I treat it as such.
There are really only two things I give this level of commitment to: living in the Now and Motherhood. I look at everything as Practice and there are some things I haven't practiced, yet, because I have found it more difficult to stay in the Now and do them at the same time (like be in an intimate, sexual relationship). Since staying in the Now takes priority at this point in my life, I've consciously released opportunities to practice those things. Over the weekend, I began an attempt at holding that against me, but then I remembered that I will have many more opportunities for that Practice. I'm in no rush.
I think. I mull. I analyze. Those are my constants, and so, every opportunity for Practice that I pass up is used as an opportunity to rehearse what that opportunity will look like in the Future. This helps build my confidence as I'm the sort of person who feels most comfortable when she can see the Past, Present, and Future simultaneously.
All of this happens in the Now. There is no other time for it to happen. And, because every Now is another moment's Past and another moment's Future, I am able to keep a wonderfully forgiving perspective on Life. Mine, in particular.
Sometimes, it amazes me how even the Past and Future are happening in the Now.
July 5, 2008
I'm cleaning my attic.
I don't know how it happened, but my attic got really cluttered. I guess I wasn't aware that I was storing so much up there. I thought I was doing a good job at keeping most of my stuff stored in my heart area, but nope. The attic is getting more than its fair share and is now in need of a good cleanse.
Thank goodness for mudras and meditation and prayer beads.
Thank goodness for love and forgiveness and inquiry.
Thank goodness I don't keep too much stuff in my heart, because I'm starting to question if it's easier to clean the heart or the head and I'm answering, "Head."
My attic is a good place to store stuff because it has windows. If there's too much junk up there, I can open the windows and toss the rubbish out. Where is the heart's opening? In all these years, I haven't found one. It seems that the heart has more of a pore situation going on. Things seep into it and things can drain out of it, but there's no opening up one, huge hole and just tossing stuff in or grabbing things to toss out. The heart is trickier to handle.
If I don't want to think about something, I can simply think of something else, go somewhere else, look at something else, listen to something else, etc. If I don't want to feel something...well, I haven't figured out how to stop feeling things. Not the Heart Things, like Love and... What else is a Heart Thing? Now, that I'm thinking about it, I think that's the only one.
It's funny to me how the heart (or what we call the heart) Loves and all other emotions stem from choices. I've been testing this theory out and reading about it for years, and it seems to be true. The nature of Self is to Love...everything else is a choice. And, what is the Heart if not the Self? So many words for the same thing. I get exhausted trying to differentiate them.
I used to think that when someone's heart felt heavy, that meant s/he was sad or somehow emotionally compromised. Now, I realize that a heavy heart is a heart full of Love. A heart literally full of Love...so much so that it feels like it's about to burst. These moments don't only occur when we're feeling happy, because sadness is just Love With a Twist. As is anger. As is fear.
I have to go, now. My heart is heavy.
I don't know how it happened, but my attic got really cluttered. I guess I wasn't aware that I was storing so much up there. I thought I was doing a good job at keeping most of my stuff stored in my heart area, but nope. The attic is getting more than its fair share and is now in need of a good cleanse.
Thank goodness for mudras and meditation and prayer beads.
Thank goodness for love and forgiveness and inquiry.
Thank goodness I don't keep too much stuff in my heart, because I'm starting to question if it's easier to clean the heart or the head and I'm answering, "Head."
My attic is a good place to store stuff because it has windows. If there's too much junk up there, I can open the windows and toss the rubbish out. Where is the heart's opening? In all these years, I haven't found one. It seems that the heart has more of a pore situation going on. Things seep into it and things can drain out of it, but there's no opening up one, huge hole and just tossing stuff in or grabbing things to toss out. The heart is trickier to handle.
If I don't want to think about something, I can simply think of something else, go somewhere else, look at something else, listen to something else, etc. If I don't want to feel something...well, I haven't figured out how to stop feeling things. Not the Heart Things, like Love and... What else is a Heart Thing? Now, that I'm thinking about it, I think that's the only one.
It's funny to me how the heart (or what we call the heart) Loves and all other emotions stem from choices. I've been testing this theory out and reading about it for years, and it seems to be true. The nature of Self is to Love...everything else is a choice. And, what is the Heart if not the Self? So many words for the same thing. I get exhausted trying to differentiate them.
I used to think that when someone's heart felt heavy, that meant s/he was sad or somehow emotionally compromised. Now, I realize that a heavy heart is a heart full of Love. A heart literally full of Love...so much so that it feels like it's about to burst. These moments don't only occur when we're feeling happy, because sadness is just Love With a Twist. As is anger. As is fear.
I have to go, now. My heart is heavy.
June 14, 2008
time
Time is an interesting subject. We tell ourselves all sorts of stories about it, many of them untrue. The way we think of time is fascinating because it's an unreal thing we like to assign real qualities to. I mean, sure we have the day and the night, but what does that really mean when we've got billions of them? People like to speak about when the end of the world comes, but what does that really mean "the end of the world"? It'd be more honest to talk about the end of our desire to be part of the world. And, one or 5,000 can't make that decision for all of us, so why do we even think about it?
There are so many layers when you start talking about time.
I've been friends with this one chick for about 2 years. Our friendship started b/c she was in my math class and she sat down next to me and gave me all her contact information and her medical background. She wanted me to contact her with assignments, etc. if she was ever absent and she wanted me to know all the various reasons why she'd ever be absent. I never called her with assignments when she was absent. I'm not sure why...I just never thought about her unless she was there. She wanted to be my friend, anyway. I liked that she was single and available to go out and party with me.
During our time together, I have cut her off twice. She's annoying and needy and desperate. I like her, but she's cloying. She needs more than I feel comfortable offering. I've always felt guilty about cutting her off, tho. I felt uncomfortable with the decision. Recently, I cut her off, again. This time permanently, b/c I've been half-listening (maybe even quarter-listening) to everything she tells me and I've come to realize that I truly don't care about her, anymore. I don't care about her love problems or her health problems or her family problems or anything. And, I don't want to be in her sphere.
There is no guilt.
Up until now, I'd mostly been thinking about myself with regard to her. I'd been thinking about how I wouldn't want a friend who did (), I would feel badly if (), I would like (). But, this time, I was thinking of her. Funny how being more considerate of someone else's feelings can lead you to do something that will likely hurt those very same feelings. I figure she deserves better than what I'm prepared to offer her. We can't be lifelong friends if I want her to shut up every time she opens her mouth. She deserves someone who truly cares about her health and her relationship with her boyfriend.
I'm simply not good enough for her. And, I'm okay with that. I don't want to be good enough for her. I feel like I've given her two years to show who she truly is and what she's given me is not something I want to subscribe to.
It's awfully selfish, yet wonderfully compassionate. I know she notices my disinterest. She'll ask me several times during a single conversation if I'm still there. She's the sort of person who is willing to overlook such things. And, up until the other day, I was the sort of person who was willing to dish it out. I feel a little dirty admitting it. How utterly pathetic of me. And, yet...we're humans, after all. This is what we do sometimes.
Time is such an interesting concept. Two years with her, 8 months with someone else, 6 months with what's passed for the Love of 2008. And, now...all gone. One day, it will be five years without her, 20 months without someone else, 6 years since the Love of 2008. And, what does it mean?
They say time waits for no man. Today, that feels like the most wonderful promise.
There are so many layers when you start talking about time.
I've been friends with this one chick for about 2 years. Our friendship started b/c she was in my math class and she sat down next to me and gave me all her contact information and her medical background. She wanted me to contact her with assignments, etc. if she was ever absent and she wanted me to know all the various reasons why she'd ever be absent. I never called her with assignments when she was absent. I'm not sure why...I just never thought about her unless she was there. She wanted to be my friend, anyway. I liked that she was single and available to go out and party with me.
During our time together, I have cut her off twice. She's annoying and needy and desperate. I like her, but she's cloying. She needs more than I feel comfortable offering. I've always felt guilty about cutting her off, tho. I felt uncomfortable with the decision. Recently, I cut her off, again. This time permanently, b/c I've been half-listening (maybe even quarter-listening) to everything she tells me and I've come to realize that I truly don't care about her, anymore. I don't care about her love problems or her health problems or her family problems or anything. And, I don't want to be in her sphere.
There is no guilt.
Up until now, I'd mostly been thinking about myself with regard to her. I'd been thinking about how I wouldn't want a friend who did (), I would feel badly if (), I would like (). But, this time, I was thinking of her. Funny how being more considerate of someone else's feelings can lead you to do something that will likely hurt those very same feelings. I figure she deserves better than what I'm prepared to offer her. We can't be lifelong friends if I want her to shut up every time she opens her mouth. She deserves someone who truly cares about her health and her relationship with her boyfriend.
I'm simply not good enough for her. And, I'm okay with that. I don't want to be good enough for her. I feel like I've given her two years to show who she truly is and what she's given me is not something I want to subscribe to.
It's awfully selfish, yet wonderfully compassionate. I know she notices my disinterest. She'll ask me several times during a single conversation if I'm still there. She's the sort of person who is willing to overlook such things. And, up until the other day, I was the sort of person who was willing to dish it out. I feel a little dirty admitting it. How utterly pathetic of me. And, yet...we're humans, after all. This is what we do sometimes.
Time is such an interesting concept. Two years with her, 8 months with someone else, 6 months with what's passed for the Love of 2008. And, now...all gone. One day, it will be five years without her, 20 months without someone else, 6 years since the Love of 2008. And, what does it mean?
They say time waits for no man. Today, that feels like the most wonderful promise.
May 16, 2008
I know a woman who has two children and feels guilty because she wants a third. She feels guilty because she lives in the world of academia and thinks she is being too primitive or something in wanting to simply mother children as opposed to being a capitalistic force with which to reckon.
I know a woman who has five children and feels her place is in the home. Her husband likes to spend more money than they have, so she recently became an employee at a place she likes. She doesn't feel her children are getting the care and attention they deserve and so she and her husband argue.
I know a woman who has four children. She thinks it's disgusting for an older woman with children to get into a relationship with a younger man. She says she'd be extremely angry if one of her sons "raised some other man's kids." All of her children were born out of wedlock. Her lover is the father of her youngest child and they've been together almost 20 years now...since her sons were toddlers.
I know a woman who had two children, got divorced, then remarried. She often seemed to wish she didn't have the children from the first marriage. She often seemed to wish she could have started over without all the baggage. She sometimes said things to the oldest child that implied the child should be grateful she was allowed to stay with the "good" husband.
I know a woman. She lives with unnecessary pain. And, some say, "What is life without suffering?" And, I say, "Suffering is a choice and it seems you've chosen to allow us as many opportunities to suffer as possible."
I just want to cut down on the opportunities. That's all.
I know a woman who has five children and feels her place is in the home. Her husband likes to spend more money than they have, so she recently became an employee at a place she likes. She doesn't feel her children are getting the care and attention they deserve and so she and her husband argue.
I know a woman who has four children. She thinks it's disgusting for an older woman with children to get into a relationship with a younger man. She says she'd be extremely angry if one of her sons "raised some other man's kids." All of her children were born out of wedlock. Her lover is the father of her youngest child and they've been together almost 20 years now...since her sons were toddlers.
I know a woman who had two children, got divorced, then remarried. She often seemed to wish she didn't have the children from the first marriage. She often seemed to wish she could have started over without all the baggage. She sometimes said things to the oldest child that implied the child should be grateful she was allowed to stay with the "good" husband.
I know a woman. She lives with unnecessary pain. And, some say, "What is life without suffering?" And, I say, "Suffering is a choice and it seems you've chosen to allow us as many opportunities to suffer as possible."
I just want to cut down on the opportunities. That's all.
May 14, 2008
more on virginity
Interestingly enough, I came across the term "virgin" in a different book. I recently finished The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd. (Good read. I recommend it.) She researched "virgin" and found out that in the past, it had nothing to do with being sexually inexperienced. To say a woman was a virgin was to say that the woman belonged to herself. She was independent. No man claimed her.
I think I knew this before, but forgot.
She went on to explain how women would bathe to restore their virginity (more explanation than The Holy Book gives) and once again I felt full of...I don't know...hope? power? peace?
One thing I know is that I've never been comfortable belonging to a man. I was married. Whenever anyone referred to me as "so-and-so's wife", a part of me would shrink back. It took a few marriage licenses for me to go through with the wedding even though the entire thing was my idea. Growing up, I'd always envisioned myself in a house full of children, but I never had a man with me. I never had a husband.
Lately, I've been working out what it must mean that I've never wanted a man in my life. I like having sex with them. Sure. But, beyond that, I've never understood why anyone would want one around for long periods of time.
I think, though, that for so long, I was afraid of what my lack of desire for a man meant. I knew I liked them (in general), I knew they were entertaining, but I also knew I didn't want to live with one forever. I often tried to imagine the ex and I growing old together and I never could. I can imagine myself old just fine, though. I look forward to it.
And, now...now, I'm mateless and I really enjoy it. Males require mothering and I don't want to mother anyone unless I'm it's actual mother. Males require attention and after about an hour, I want them to either shut up or point me to the bedroom. Whenever I think about living with an adult, it's always a female. I know there are women who truly enjoy the men they live with, but I have never been one of them. I didn't enjoy my fathers, my brothers, my past lovers, my ex-husband. Not for long periods of time. I liked them in spurts; then, I wanted them to go away.
It wasn't until I was actually married that I started to wonder why I never saw myself with a man long-term. I think I thought that bringing one into my life on a permanent basis (I was convinced we'd be married for at least 50 years) was going to change that. I think I thought that doing it would be the antidote to not wanting it. I think I thought something was wrong with me that I didn't want or need a man in my life.
And, I think my mother may be to blame.
My mother had a father, but he was married to a woman who was not her mother. He had children with his wife. He visited my mother, showing her the gifts he had for his other children. She hated him. Of course, that's not true. She was angry with him and she loved him fiercely, but she could never admit that to herself. She wanted a father. She felt like she mattered less because she didn't have one in her home and because of how he treated her during his visits.
I grew up being told what a man had to do for me to be worth my time. I grew up hearing that to have a child while unmarried was the most heinous of sins. I grew up knowing that my mother would disown me if I ever had a child out of wedlock.
Of course, I did it, anyway. Twice. I lied to her about it. Then, we stopped speaking. Then, something in me felt evil and wrong and it wasn't me...it was my mother. But, I didn't know that at the time.
All I knew was that I wanted babies. Lots of them. And, there was no point in buying sperm when the streets are flooded with it. I had a guy who took care of me. He was an asshole, but arguing with him helped me feel like a strong woman. Our arguments helped me prove to myself that I was independent and no man could rule me. Eventually, our arguments only proved how wrong we were for each other. I had children to raise and they deserved better than the male role model I had given them. I left him.
I took back my virginity.
Recently, a man told me I'm looking for a prince to come in and sweep me off my feet. I laughed. I told him he was wrong, but he disagreed. Whenever we are together, he insists I have a man somewhere. A man I belong to. A man I answer to. He insists because the alternative...that I truly belong to no man because I choose not to...is too much for his classically territorial and sexist mind to grasp. If a woman doesn't want a man, what does that mean for a man? That's what he wonders. I see it in his eyes when he stares at me while we kiss.
I feel sorry for all the men who have been convinced that they are worth being in relationships with simply because they exist. The world has not prepared them for real life. The world has not prepared them for real women.
I have a new understanding of what it means to take someone's virginity. And, I know it's not possible to take mine. It never has been.
I think I knew this before, but forgot.
She went on to explain how women would bathe to restore their virginity (more explanation than The Holy Book gives) and once again I felt full of...I don't know...hope? power? peace?
One thing I know is that I've never been comfortable belonging to a man. I was married. Whenever anyone referred to me as "so-and-so's wife", a part of me would shrink back. It took a few marriage licenses for me to go through with the wedding even though the entire thing was my idea. Growing up, I'd always envisioned myself in a house full of children, but I never had a man with me. I never had a husband.
Lately, I've been working out what it must mean that I've never wanted a man in my life. I like having sex with them. Sure. But, beyond that, I've never understood why anyone would want one around for long periods of time.
I think, though, that for so long, I was afraid of what my lack of desire for a man meant. I knew I liked them (in general), I knew they were entertaining, but I also knew I didn't want to live with one forever. I often tried to imagine the ex and I growing old together and I never could. I can imagine myself old just fine, though. I look forward to it.
And, now...now, I'm mateless and I really enjoy it. Males require mothering and I don't want to mother anyone unless I'm it's actual mother. Males require attention and after about an hour, I want them to either shut up or point me to the bedroom. Whenever I think about living with an adult, it's always a female. I know there are women who truly enjoy the men they live with, but I have never been one of them. I didn't enjoy my fathers, my brothers, my past lovers, my ex-husband. Not for long periods of time. I liked them in spurts; then, I wanted them to go away.
It wasn't until I was actually married that I started to wonder why I never saw myself with a man long-term. I think I thought that bringing one into my life on a permanent basis (I was convinced we'd be married for at least 50 years) was going to change that. I think I thought that doing it would be the antidote to not wanting it. I think I thought something was wrong with me that I didn't want or need a man in my life.
And, I think my mother may be to blame.
My mother had a father, but he was married to a woman who was not her mother. He had children with his wife. He visited my mother, showing her the gifts he had for his other children. She hated him. Of course, that's not true. She was angry with him and she loved him fiercely, but she could never admit that to herself. She wanted a father. She felt like she mattered less because she didn't have one in her home and because of how he treated her during his visits.
I grew up being told what a man had to do for me to be worth my time. I grew up hearing that to have a child while unmarried was the most heinous of sins. I grew up knowing that my mother would disown me if I ever had a child out of wedlock.
Of course, I did it, anyway. Twice. I lied to her about it. Then, we stopped speaking. Then, something in me felt evil and wrong and it wasn't me...it was my mother. But, I didn't know that at the time.
All I knew was that I wanted babies. Lots of them. And, there was no point in buying sperm when the streets are flooded with it. I had a guy who took care of me. He was an asshole, but arguing with him helped me feel like a strong woman. Our arguments helped me prove to myself that I was independent and no man could rule me. Eventually, our arguments only proved how wrong we were for each other. I had children to raise and they deserved better than the male role model I had given them. I left him.
I took back my virginity.
Recently, a man told me I'm looking for a prince to come in and sweep me off my feet. I laughed. I told him he was wrong, but he disagreed. Whenever we are together, he insists I have a man somewhere. A man I belong to. A man I answer to. He insists because the alternative...that I truly belong to no man because I choose not to...is too much for his classically territorial and sexist mind to grasp. If a woman doesn't want a man, what does that mean for a man? That's what he wonders. I see it in his eyes when he stares at me while we kiss.
I feel sorry for all the men who have been convinced that they are worth being in relationships with simply because they exist. The world has not prepared them for real life. The world has not prepared them for real women.
I have a new understanding of what it means to take someone's virginity. And, I know it's not possible to take mine. It never has been.
May 5, 2008
New Moon in Taurus
I love doing my New Moon rituals. Since they're monthly, they add another pulse to my daily life. In keeping up with the phases of the Moon, I really do feel more of the life I'm living.
For me, acknowledging the feminine this way is encouraging and peacemaking. I also acknowledge my shadow self when I reflect upon the Moon in all her glories. I love the reminder that the Moon provides: spend time in your shadow self, just don't get stuck there.
For a while, I would get so worried about what it meant for me to feel incredibly angry at people and the choices we make. I worried that I wasn't very Enlightened if I didn't stay in peaceful balance 24 hours of every day.
The Moon gives me good advice when she says, "Evolve, revolve, pass through all your phases. Stay in each phase as long as necessary, not longer. Don't fret if you don't feel you've stayed in a phase long enough...you'll come back to it soon enough. Enjoy, release what you have to release, and move on. That is Peace, too."
There is no "one twoo way" to Enlightenment. Especially for those of us more comfortable in the shadows.
For me, acknowledging the feminine this way is encouraging and peacemaking. I also acknowledge my shadow self when I reflect upon the Moon in all her glories. I love the reminder that the Moon provides: spend time in your shadow self, just don't get stuck there.
For a while, I would get so worried about what it meant for me to feel incredibly angry at people and the choices we make. I worried that I wasn't very Enlightened if I didn't stay in peaceful balance 24 hours of every day.
The Moon gives me good advice when she says, "Evolve, revolve, pass through all your phases. Stay in each phase as long as necessary, not longer. Don't fret if you don't feel you've stayed in a phase long enough...you'll come back to it soon enough. Enjoy, release what you have to release, and move on. That is Peace, too."
There is no "one twoo way" to Enlightenment. Especially for those of us more comfortable in the shadows.
May 3, 2008
April 27, 2008
virginity restored
Yesterday, I sat reading The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries and got to an interesting part about a group of women who used to bathe post-copulation as part of the process of restoring their virginity. Obviously, their definition of "virgin" extended beyond the one touted in our patriarchal society and that led me to thinking about rituals I engage in to restore mine, if there were any. I have never valued virginity on the whole, so that little mental exercise didn't last very long.
Then, last night, I was bored and restless, so I hung out with a guy I know. Being around a male who is available for sex always gets me to thinking about sex. It's not miraculous, but it confounds me nevertheless. As I sat there, I was once again surprised to note that he was not sexually appealing to me at all. And, then...I started confessing my recent sexual history to him.
In the past, I've annoyed males with my ability and desire to discuss prior sexual experiences and mates with them. Most of the men I've known haven't been comfortable with it and that's always surprised me (I guess I'm slow to accept it) because I love to hear about other people's sexual escapades. Love it. Part of the fun of sex is in the discussions about it, IMO. If you can't talk about it, don't do it.
So, I'm sitting there, telling him about my sexual stupidities, my sexual strengths, my sexual inconsiderations, and I wonder why. The reason I would tell him these things is not as simple as he's "safe" b/c I don't want to have sex with him. I'd had plenty of sex with him since my last confessional. I doubted that it had to do with guilt or purging or wanting him to know what I'd been up to so he could get jealous or be impressed or anything emotional because I honestly don't care what he thinks about what I tell him, except that he should laugh when I'm being funny. And, my sex life is actually hilarious, so...he laughs.
This morning, I awoke to thoughts of restoring virginity. I thought more about what it means to restore a woman to her womanly state. I wondered if part of the concept of restoring virginity had to do with shedding the interaction with men, so as to be able to once again be a creature who is more than the more primitive parts of herself. You take the contribution and bless it (with water), recognizing it's inherent worth while simultaneously refusing to become beholden to it. Sex was never meant to be used against us.
And, so, I look at my tendency to discuss and offer up my sexual history and I wonder if it is part of my restoration and if I need or desire such a thing. Doesn't the use of "restore" imply that sex with men somehow taints us? Regardless of how I feel about that, I never want to become stingy with my sexuality. I offer it as I would any sacred offering: with love, joy, and the true desire to exalt. In doing so, I shed the man from my spirit, allowing him his freedom and reclaiming mine. In doing so, I shed societal expectations from my spirit, allowing it it's freedom and reclaiming mine. In doing so, I embrace the humanity in my womanhood, allowing it to smother and fill me.
Last night, I truly realized the trivial side of sex. I've always felt it to be both significant and insignificant (like, well...everything else), but last night, the triviality and I sat with each other for a while. And, this morning, I am refreshed as a result. Perhaps that is all that is meant by "restore."
Then, last night, I was bored and restless, so I hung out with a guy I know. Being around a male who is available for sex always gets me to thinking about sex. It's not miraculous, but it confounds me nevertheless. As I sat there, I was once again surprised to note that he was not sexually appealing to me at all. And, then...I started confessing my recent sexual history to him.
In the past, I've annoyed males with my ability and desire to discuss prior sexual experiences and mates with them. Most of the men I've known haven't been comfortable with it and that's always surprised me (I guess I'm slow to accept it) because I love to hear about other people's sexual escapades. Love it. Part of the fun of sex is in the discussions about it, IMO. If you can't talk about it, don't do it.
So, I'm sitting there, telling him about my sexual stupidities, my sexual strengths, my sexual inconsiderations, and I wonder why. The reason I would tell him these things is not as simple as he's "safe" b/c I don't want to have sex with him. I'd had plenty of sex with him since my last confessional. I doubted that it had to do with guilt or purging or wanting him to know what I'd been up to so he could get jealous or be impressed or anything emotional because I honestly don't care what he thinks about what I tell him, except that he should laugh when I'm being funny. And, my sex life is actually hilarious, so...he laughs.
This morning, I awoke to thoughts of restoring virginity. I thought more about what it means to restore a woman to her womanly state. I wondered if part of the concept of restoring virginity had to do with shedding the interaction with men, so as to be able to once again be a creature who is more than the more primitive parts of herself. You take the contribution and bless it (with water), recognizing it's inherent worth while simultaneously refusing to become beholden to it. Sex was never meant to be used against us.
And, so, I look at my tendency to discuss and offer up my sexual history and I wonder if it is part of my restoration and if I need or desire such a thing. Doesn't the use of "restore" imply that sex with men somehow taints us? Regardless of how I feel about that, I never want to become stingy with my sexuality. I offer it as I would any sacred offering: with love, joy, and the true desire to exalt. In doing so, I shed the man from my spirit, allowing him his freedom and reclaiming mine. In doing so, I shed societal expectations from my spirit, allowing it it's freedom and reclaiming mine. In doing so, I embrace the humanity in my womanhood, allowing it to smother and fill me.
Last night, I truly realized the trivial side of sex. I've always felt it to be both significant and insignificant (like, well...everything else), but last night, the triviality and I sat with each other for a while. And, this morning, I am refreshed as a result. Perhaps that is all that is meant by "restore."
April 22, 2008
safety
As a society, we like to stress safety. We talk about it as if it's a physical thing we can move closer toward, when, really, it's an emotion. Some may argue that it's an idea, but the idea of it wouldn't be significant without the emotion that comes attached to it, so I say cut the middle talk. It's an emotion.
The thing about emotions is that they are inherently dynamic. Since they cannot help but to fluctuate, we understand that we may have to resolve the same issues over and over again. We understand that the choice to feel one way or another is one we have to make continually.
And, still, we like to act as if we can get to a particular emotion and stay there endlessly. We like to say things like, "I just want to be happy." as if it's a location on a map. If I just act this way and say these things and think these things, I'll find Happiness and what fun I'm going to have when I get there! It's utterly ridiculous, yet we do it all the time. Some of us more than others. The question, then, becomes: What are you going to feel in the meantime? Until you find Happiness, are you going to be sad, apathetic, angry, morose...what?
In thinking about safety, I find myself wondering: Until you feel safe, what are you going to feel in the meantime?
What a scary question. If you can't find it in yourself to feel safe now, when is it going to be safe to feel safe? (haha) Maybe never? Maybe next week? Maybe tomorrow? And, until then, you will feel how? I doubt you'll feel happy, because we equate safety and happiness with Positivity and if you are not already Positive, you must be Negative. That's very black-and-white, but I find that emotions tend to be such. If not one, then another. We may not always feel the opposite emotion, but we define emotions in oppositional language, so it will come up, eventually. If you are introspective enough for a long enough period of time, you will find that your emotional state will be seen as either positive or negative. It's the judging that makes the emotion meaningful.
There are folks who feel safer in feeling unsafe. Humans are creatures of habit and any emotion can become a habitual state. However, in the end, none of us sincerely strives to feel less than safe, I don't think. (Which is why those who go after the feeling of insecurity do so...to feel safe.)
Why do we cling this way to emotions? Is it truly inherent to being human? I still don't understand it and yet none of us seems immune. It feels safer to some of us to see the doctor for every sniffle, yet there are those who feel doctors add a level of danger to life. (There's even some overlap there. LOL) What helps one person feel safe is not always what helps another, as feelings are perceptions and opinions. They are not facts. There is no objectivity in discussing them, which is why it is said that feelings are never wrong.
To feel safe is possible. To be safe? Not so much. And, when you take into consideration that every moment you are alive, you are simultaneously dying, what importance does safety have?
Perhaps it is only a tool. And as with all tools, we must be careful how we use it.
The thing about emotions is that they are inherently dynamic. Since they cannot help but to fluctuate, we understand that we may have to resolve the same issues over and over again. We understand that the choice to feel one way or another is one we have to make continually.
And, still, we like to act as if we can get to a particular emotion and stay there endlessly. We like to say things like, "I just want to be happy." as if it's a location on a map. If I just act this way and say these things and think these things, I'll find Happiness and what fun I'm going to have when I get there! It's utterly ridiculous, yet we do it all the time. Some of us more than others. The question, then, becomes: What are you going to feel in the meantime? Until you find Happiness, are you going to be sad, apathetic, angry, morose...what?
In thinking about safety, I find myself wondering: Until you feel safe, what are you going to feel in the meantime?
What a scary question. If you can't find it in yourself to feel safe now, when is it going to be safe to feel safe? (haha) Maybe never? Maybe next week? Maybe tomorrow? And, until then, you will feel how? I doubt you'll feel happy, because we equate safety and happiness with Positivity and if you are not already Positive, you must be Negative. That's very black-and-white, but I find that emotions tend to be such. If not one, then another. We may not always feel the opposite emotion, but we define emotions in oppositional language, so it will come up, eventually. If you are introspective enough for a long enough period of time, you will find that your emotional state will be seen as either positive or negative. It's the judging that makes the emotion meaningful.
There are folks who feel safer in feeling unsafe. Humans are creatures of habit and any emotion can become a habitual state. However, in the end, none of us sincerely strives to feel less than safe, I don't think. (Which is why those who go after the feeling of insecurity do so...to feel safe.)
Why do we cling this way to emotions? Is it truly inherent to being human? I still don't understand it and yet none of us seems immune. It feels safer to some of us to see the doctor for every sniffle, yet there are those who feel doctors add a level of danger to life. (There's even some overlap there. LOL) What helps one person feel safe is not always what helps another, as feelings are perceptions and opinions. They are not facts. There is no objectivity in discussing them, which is why it is said that feelings are never wrong.
To feel safe is possible. To be safe? Not so much. And, when you take into consideration that every moment you are alive, you are simultaneously dying, what importance does safety have?
Perhaps it is only a tool. And as with all tools, we must be careful how we use it.
April 18, 2008
pride
I find pride to be one of those slippery topics. Many insist that "good people" aren't proud, but a huge part of healthy self-esteem is pride, so I always wonder why anyone would want to be considered "good" if you can't be both.
I guess the real issue is not pride, but too much pride. I'm never sure what quantity one has to have in order to have "too much," but there obviously is one. It's not objective, though. (As if an opinion could be.) "Too much pride" varies depending upon with whom you're dealing. And, since so many people are incredibly insecure, this can pose a problem for more confident people.
I've been called "cocky" a lot in my life. Mostly by males. Mostly by males attempting to subdue me in some way. I have been confused and amused by it, but in the end, it simply drove me away. "Cocky" is rarely seen as a compliment, although I'd think that patriarchal men saying a person acts as if s/he has a cock would be a good thing given how enamored males are of their cocks. But, it's not. If a person calls you cocky, s/he's insulting you. The degree of the insult depends on other attributes applied simultaneously. If you're cocky and sexy, you may get a break. (But, be prepared to be called an asshole later.) If you're cocky and dumb as hell, no one will want to be your friend (unless you come across folks who are dumber than you and subsequently equate cockiness with strength of character).
Relationships can be so complex.
"Cocky" is another word for proud. Being the introspective person I am, I've always wondered if I'm truly cocky. At the moment I'm called such, I get a bit indignant and tell the observer to fuck off, which I'm sure only strengthens the opinion. But, I know that my "problem" isn't pride, which is why saying such a thing to me is so insulting. It's usually said when I refuse to bow down to someone or feel lower than someone simply because he's a man. It's usually said when I am seen as being the more intelligent in the talking pair.
And, that's not said to be boastful or proud. Perceptions can be tricky things and opinions are nothing but perceptions. To another, I can never be more than that other perceives me to be. Period. If you view me negatively, you will be on the lookout for proof of your opinion almost constantly. Same for if you view me positively. That is our nature as observant, judgmental humans. I have no qualms with it, but as a discerning person, I choose what I will and will not subject myself to.
Today, I was reading about pride, why it's not beneficial, and ways to overcome it. The steps given were: learn to recognize your pride, express gratitude often, and learn to laugh at yourself. It's that third part that really touched me, because anyone who knows me knows I laugh at myself a lot. Not just a lot. A lot. I'm not into self-deprecation, but I can recognize when I'm being silly about something and if I happen to have a clumsy moment, I'm cracking up. I'm a serious person, but I don't take myself as seriously as others seem to like to take me.
So, this little blurb on pride says, "People who have the problem of pride rarely laugh at themselves. Engaging in humor at your own expense shows that pride isn't the problem, and that if it is, it's one you're determined to deal with!"
It felt uplifting to read that because I've never felt pride was a problem for me, but I do believe in looking at the observations of the ones around myself and learning from them. I'll admit that people who've called me cocky in the past didn't know me well (and attempting to insult me isn't going to help one on that path), but I truly believe that there is something to learn from every encounter.
One thing I've had trouble accepting is that sometimes the thing to learn from the encounter is that you're too good to keep interacting with that person. I guess I'll figure that one out soon.
I guess the real issue is not pride, but too much pride. I'm never sure what quantity one has to have in order to have "too much," but there obviously is one. It's not objective, though. (As if an opinion could be.) "Too much pride" varies depending upon with whom you're dealing. And, since so many people are incredibly insecure, this can pose a problem for more confident people.
I've been called "cocky" a lot in my life. Mostly by males. Mostly by males attempting to subdue me in some way. I have been confused and amused by it, but in the end, it simply drove me away. "Cocky" is rarely seen as a compliment, although I'd think that patriarchal men saying a person acts as if s/he has a cock would be a good thing given how enamored males are of their cocks. But, it's not. If a person calls you cocky, s/he's insulting you. The degree of the insult depends on other attributes applied simultaneously. If you're cocky and sexy, you may get a break. (But, be prepared to be called an asshole later.) If you're cocky and dumb as hell, no one will want to be your friend (unless you come across folks who are dumber than you and subsequently equate cockiness with strength of character).
Relationships can be so complex.
"Cocky" is another word for proud. Being the introspective person I am, I've always wondered if I'm truly cocky. At the moment I'm called such, I get a bit indignant and tell the observer to fuck off, which I'm sure only strengthens the opinion. But, I know that my "problem" isn't pride, which is why saying such a thing to me is so insulting. It's usually said when I refuse to bow down to someone or feel lower than someone simply because he's a man. It's usually said when I am seen as being the more intelligent in the talking pair.
And, that's not said to be boastful or proud. Perceptions can be tricky things and opinions are nothing but perceptions. To another, I can never be more than that other perceives me to be. Period. If you view me negatively, you will be on the lookout for proof of your opinion almost constantly. Same for if you view me positively. That is our nature as observant, judgmental humans. I have no qualms with it, but as a discerning person, I choose what I will and will not subject myself to.
Today, I was reading about pride, why it's not beneficial, and ways to overcome it. The steps given were: learn to recognize your pride, express gratitude often, and learn to laugh at yourself. It's that third part that really touched me, because anyone who knows me knows I laugh at myself a lot. Not just a lot. A lot. I'm not into self-deprecation, but I can recognize when I'm being silly about something and if I happen to have a clumsy moment, I'm cracking up. I'm a serious person, but I don't take myself as seriously as others seem to like to take me.
So, this little blurb on pride says, "People who have the problem of pride rarely laugh at themselves. Engaging in humor at your own expense shows that pride isn't the problem, and that if it is, it's one you're determined to deal with!"
It felt uplifting to read that because I've never felt pride was a problem for me, but I do believe in looking at the observations of the ones around myself and learning from them. I'll admit that people who've called me cocky in the past didn't know me well (and attempting to insult me isn't going to help one on that path), but I truly believe that there is something to learn from every encounter.
One thing I've had trouble accepting is that sometimes the thing to learn from the encounter is that you're too good to keep interacting with that person. I guess I'll figure that one out soon.
April 7, 2008
Age of Aquarius
This post is to remind me to research the Age of Aquarius. Again.
According to this site, we're in it. According to Wiki, the Mayans and astrologers had it starting in 2012, which is what I'd read and understood for many years prior to 2007. However, later in the page, Wiki gives the same dateline as the first site.
This guy says it shouldn't start until at least 2060, but acknowledges that it feels like we're already in it. This astrologer (I don't know what credentials, if any, s/he touts) says we've been in it since 1997!
Overall, I'm amused. I think I will start studying astronomy.
According to this site, we're in it. According to Wiki, the Mayans and astrologers had it starting in 2012, which is what I'd read and understood for many years prior to 2007. However, later in the page, Wiki gives the same dateline as the first site.
This guy says it shouldn't start until at least 2060, but acknowledges that it feels like we're already in it. This astrologer (I don't know what credentials, if any, s/he touts) says we've been in it since 1997!
Overall, I'm amused. I think I will start studying astronomy.
April 6, 2008
zeitgeist: the movie
If you haven't watched this (or even better, downloaded it for free), please do. I highly doubt you'll regret it, but if you do, let me know and I'll come visit you just to personally kiss your ass.
The only problem I had with it (it's highly entertaining) was that the ending seemed rushed. I didn't pay attention to whether or not they spent equal time on each part.
I downloaded it, tho, so I'll be watching it, again.
The only problem I had with it (it's highly entertaining) was that the ending seemed rushed. I didn't pay attention to whether or not they spent equal time on each part.
I downloaded it, tho, so I'll be watching it, again.
April 5, 2008
prayer
Today, I wondered about the different ways of praying throughout history. I mostly concerned myself with what various bodily positions there may be, so I googled "prayer positions" and was disappointed. Honestly, I expected more than loads of pages on Christian and Muslim prayer positions and ideas. It's not as if they have a monopoly on prayer. Just as I was about to change my search words, though, I came across this gem.
It took me a few seconds to understand Mr. Hall's way of thinking, but once I did, I was able to respect his comic genius. I especially loved #6, which reads:
6. It is nonsense to suggest that prayers of thanksgiving trump prayers of petition. We are children of God. What would you think of your own child if she always went about thanking, never asking, pestering? You would think, “What an obnoxious little goody two-shoes!”
I guess Mr. Hall thinks that people who are grateful without asking for things are something to be endured and tolerated, but not necessarily liked. What an interesting minister he must be! I would think that people who are appreciative of what they have and have no desire for more are fascinating, at least. It's very Buddhist, though, I guess and that's not really Mr. Hall's field of study.
He does go on to state in #10, "Ultimately, the question of prayer is the question of God: What kind of God do I believe in?"
Indeed. What a good point. What kind of God does Mr. Hall believe in? Obviously, his is more of the Great Father in the Sky variety (and who can blame him, really? this is the God of Abraham we're talking about), but I'm glad he puts that little tidbit in at the end so any readers of his blog can be reminded that they get to choose the sort of God they pray to, whether or not they believe in petitioning.
This is why it's so important to have more than one God, though, isn't it? There are so many different types of prayer and so many different moods in which to pray. The kind of God I thank one day may not be the one I want listening on my heart's desires the next.
Seems logical to me, anyway. But, then again, I've always thought the Trinity to be awfully pagan. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
It took me a few seconds to understand Mr. Hall's way of thinking, but once I did, I was able to respect his comic genius. I especially loved #6, which reads:
6. It is nonsense to suggest that prayers of thanksgiving trump prayers of petition. We are children of God. What would you think of your own child if she always went about thanking, never asking, pestering? You would think, “What an obnoxious little goody two-shoes!”
I guess Mr. Hall thinks that people who are grateful without asking for things are something to be endured and tolerated, but not necessarily liked. What an interesting minister he must be! I would think that people who are appreciative of what they have and have no desire for more are fascinating, at least. It's very Buddhist, though, I guess and that's not really Mr. Hall's field of study.
He does go on to state in #10, "Ultimately, the question of prayer is the question of God: What kind of God do I believe in?"
Indeed. What a good point. What kind of God does Mr. Hall believe in? Obviously, his is more of the Great Father in the Sky variety (and who can blame him, really? this is the God of Abraham we're talking about), but I'm glad he puts that little tidbit in at the end so any readers of his blog can be reminded that they get to choose the sort of God they pray to, whether or not they believe in petitioning.
This is why it's so important to have more than one God, though, isn't it? There are so many different types of prayer and so many different moods in which to pray. The kind of God I thank one day may not be the one I want listening on my heart's desires the next.
Seems logical to me, anyway. But, then again, I've always thought the Trinity to be awfully pagan. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
March 20, 2008
why calling it 'the Christian right' is wrong
Language is important. (Duh.) I recommend we take back the word "right."
If Christians and Republicans get to be "right", what are the rest of us? I know, I know. We get "left" or "middle" or "left of the left", but what the hell does that mean? No one knows.
But, we all know what it means to be "right." And, we all know that the opposite of "right" is not "left," but "wrong." I'll repeat myself: the opposite of "right" is "wrong."
Even a two-year-old can tell you that.
What is this language doing for us? I think the Repubs and Christians get the good end of the stick. It serves them well to be thought of as "right," but it's not helping anyone else, is it?
Personally, I don't call anyone "right" or "left," but I certainly get tired of reading it. It's crap. It's insidious. And, it must stop.
[plea]Let's boycott phrases like "religious right," "Christian right," and all the other terms that seem to have become synonymous with "Republican."[/plea]
If your language is faulty, how can your life improve?
If Christians and Republicans get to be "right", what are the rest of us? I know, I know. We get "left" or "middle" or "left of the left", but what the hell does that mean? No one knows.
But, we all know what it means to be "right." And, we all know that the opposite of "right" is not "left," but "wrong." I'll repeat myself: the opposite of "right" is "wrong."
Even a two-year-old can tell you that.
What is this language doing for us? I think the Repubs and Christians get the good end of the stick. It serves them well to be thought of as "right," but it's not helping anyone else, is it?
Personally, I don't call anyone "right" or "left," but I certainly get tired of reading it. It's crap. It's insidious. And, it must stop.
[plea]Let's boycott phrases like "religious right," "Christian right," and all the other terms that seem to have become synonymous with "Republican."[/plea]
If your language is faulty, how can your life improve?
March 17, 2008
Vernal Equinox on Thursday
Ostara is upon us!
I'm supposed to do something with a group of folks, but I have no idea what or when. I guess I should find out. LOL
I'm glad Summer is coming. I've no use for all this cold. *brrrrr*
I performed my first "serious" spell recently. That was exciting. I've been talking to a friend of mine about my issues and we agree I need more Earth in my life. Doing spells is a great Earth activity and I've always enjoyed candle magic to some degree, so I'm taking it farther.
I have issues with permanence and I'm not sure how much of that is my Scorpio and how much is just me (as if there's a difference, really), but I feel/know I need to work with the Earth element more. I am very Air and Water; there needs to be more balance. I used to be more Fire, but in the last couple of years, I've gotten away from that. Even at times when the use of Fire is "appropriate", I Air and Water myself away. It's not that I'm anti-Fire. I just happen to be hyper-aware in this area and I can recall many instances where I embraced Fire to the point of self-destruction. It's time to test my ability to use and contain Fire. I think working with Earth will help me with that.
I'm reading a fantastic book and I plan on using this space to go over my thoughts about it. (I have to write it down so I don't forget!)
Peace...
I'm supposed to do something with a group of folks, but I have no idea what or when. I guess I should find out. LOL
I'm glad Summer is coming. I've no use for all this cold. *brrrrr*
I performed my first "serious" spell recently. That was exciting. I've been talking to a friend of mine about my issues and we agree I need more Earth in my life. Doing spells is a great Earth activity and I've always enjoyed candle magic to some degree, so I'm taking it farther.
I have issues with permanence and I'm not sure how much of that is my Scorpio and how much is just me (as if there's a difference, really), but I feel/know I need to work with the Earth element more. I am very Air and Water; there needs to be more balance. I used to be more Fire, but in the last couple of years, I've gotten away from that. Even at times when the use of Fire is "appropriate", I Air and Water myself away. It's not that I'm anti-Fire. I just happen to be hyper-aware in this area and I can recall many instances where I embraced Fire to the point of self-destruction. It's time to test my ability to use and contain Fire. I think working with Earth will help me with that.
I'm reading a fantastic book and I plan on using this space to go over my thoughts about it. (I have to write it down so I don't forget!)
Peace...
March 10, 2008
science or astrology? let your genitalia decide.
This article is amusing. The clip is cute, but the replies offer way more entertainment than should probably be endured while eating pan-fried potatoes and onions.
As someone who loves astrology and has a passing tolerance for most scientists (I find what they do interesting, but many of the ones I've met seem rather narrow-minded and aren't the most logical people), the article gives me pause. Is that article truly asking if a belief in something is grounds for not dating someone? Truly?
It's a silly question. If you don't want to date someone who believes in astrology, don't. If you don't want to date someone who believes in shoes, don't do that, either. And, furthermore, if you don't want to date someone who believes in public displays of aggression, DO NOT DO IT. (The rest of the human population--currently represented by moi--thanks you. =)
One person's intolerance does not a valid argument for a thing's stupidity make. Or are they not teaching that in science classes? I've never heard of an astrologer asking whether or not s/he should date a scientist (and, IMO, that's a much more important question. see above article for at least one reason).
Personally, I find astrology just as fascinating as quantum physics. Well...maybe quantum physics is slightly more fascinating. My point is thus: People who understand that astrology is more complex than one's sun sign don't seem to generally feel the need to align themselves against science.
Perhaps Wired can publish an article by someone with more sense next time. I mean, this article could have been funnier if it wasn't so ridiculous.
Oh, wait. That's the scientist humour, isn't it? I keep forgetting that I have trouble understanding the humour of folks who love movies like Spaceballs.
As someone who loves astrology and has a passing tolerance for most scientists (I find what they do interesting, but many of the ones I've met seem rather narrow-minded and aren't the most logical people), the article gives me pause. Is that article truly asking if a belief in something is grounds for not dating someone? Truly?
It's a silly question. If you don't want to date someone who believes in astrology, don't. If you don't want to date someone who believes in shoes, don't do that, either. And, furthermore, if you don't want to date someone who believes in public displays of aggression, DO NOT DO IT. (The rest of the human population--currently represented by moi--thanks you. =)
One person's intolerance does not a valid argument for a thing's stupidity make. Or are they not teaching that in science classes? I've never heard of an astrologer asking whether or not s/he should date a scientist (and, IMO, that's a much more important question. see above article for at least one reason).
Personally, I find astrology just as fascinating as quantum physics. Well...maybe quantum physics is slightly more fascinating. My point is thus: People who understand that astrology is more complex than one's sun sign don't seem to generally feel the need to align themselves against science.
Perhaps Wired can publish an article by someone with more sense next time. I mean, this article could have been funnier if it wasn't so ridiculous.
Oh, wait. That's the scientist humour, isn't it? I keep forgetting that I have trouble understanding the humour of folks who love movies like Spaceballs.
March 8, 2008
letting go
There are very few things I have a difficult time releasing. I'm one of those naturally unattached people. It has occasionally been the reason for conflict with others, but I don't see the problem with it. (Must be more of that unattachment.)
There are some things, though, that annoy me and I can't seem to detach from the thoughts I have about them. For instance...my treadmill.
I bought my treadmill b/c I had wanted one for years and wanted to be able to walk whenever I felt like it w/o leaving my house. Two very good reasons, I think. And, I've used it plenty in the last year. Plenty. But, for some odd reason, I get pangs of guilt whenever I don't want to get up and workout on it every morning. Guilt leads to regret and regret has always seemed to me to be a pointless activity. Yet. Yet! I can't seem to release this particular mindfuck. (I don't know what else to call it. It's my self talk that's the problem. Not the treadmill or my life or my body, etc. Just my thoughts.)
If this thought process was about anything other than my treadmill, I'd say, "Self, get over it. If your body wants to do something your mind resists, give in to your body and see where that takes you." Why can't I do this? Why is this not so simple?
I have no idea.
I used to do it. I used to get out of bed every morning and walk/run on the treadmill whether I felt like it or not. After all, feelings are inconsequential. They fluctuate too much to base a life upon them. When I fight my productive thoughts, I generally feel anxious as a result. And, that's what's happening now, I suppose, b/c working out on the treadmill is a "good" thing. It's of benefit.
I just don't want to do it.
I decided to do the yoga and pilates instead. The treadmill called to me. I decided to stay in bed and lounge around instead. The treadmill called to me. I decided to get on here and blog about it instead. That damn treadmill won't shut up!
I'm just going to do it. *sigh* Obviously, the power the treadmill has over my heart is tremendous. As I type this, my mind is saying, "Yaaaaay!"
Traitor.
There are some things, though, that annoy me and I can't seem to detach from the thoughts I have about them. For instance...my treadmill.
I bought my treadmill b/c I had wanted one for years and wanted to be able to walk whenever I felt like it w/o leaving my house. Two very good reasons, I think. And, I've used it plenty in the last year. Plenty. But, for some odd reason, I get pangs of guilt whenever I don't want to get up and workout on it every morning. Guilt leads to regret and regret has always seemed to me to be a pointless activity. Yet. Yet! I can't seem to release this particular mindfuck. (I don't know what else to call it. It's my self talk that's the problem. Not the treadmill or my life or my body, etc. Just my thoughts.)
If this thought process was about anything other than my treadmill, I'd say, "Self, get over it. If your body wants to do something your mind resists, give in to your body and see where that takes you." Why can't I do this? Why is this not so simple?
I have no idea.
I used to do it. I used to get out of bed every morning and walk/run on the treadmill whether I felt like it or not. After all, feelings are inconsequential. They fluctuate too much to base a life upon them. When I fight my productive thoughts, I generally feel anxious as a result. And, that's what's happening now, I suppose, b/c working out on the treadmill is a "good" thing. It's of benefit.
I just don't want to do it.
I decided to do the yoga and pilates instead. The treadmill called to me. I decided to stay in bed and lounge around instead. The treadmill called to me. I decided to get on here and blog about it instead. That damn treadmill won't shut up!
I'm just going to do it. *sigh* Obviously, the power the treadmill has over my heart is tremendous. As I type this, my mind is saying, "Yaaaaay!"
Traitor.
March 6, 2008
soooo...spirituality , right?
Last month, I was all set to do a Full Moon ritual and a friend needed to come over, so I didn't do it. That was poor time-management. Next time, I'll tell the friend, "No."
This month, I found out some local pagan friends are starting up a New Moon Dinner thing, so tomorrow, we'll be celebrating the New Moon with friends. Yay! I love potlucks (which is what this will be). I have very fond memories of potlucks at the masjid during Ramadan.
Today, as I was perusing the intraweb for numerology information, I found this page. My Life Path number is 40/4 and until that page, I had no idea the number 40 was so religiously important! I knew about Jesus and Moses, but I learned a lot from that page. I thought it odd that 11 had such a small blurb about it (and an obvious one at that: 11 comes between 10 and 12. Who knew?!), while the writer went on and on about 22 in numerology.
I find numerology interesting, but I do think that I take it more with a grain of salt than astrology. I'm not heavy into it (yet), but a friend of mine is and whenever she reads my numerology chart to me for future-reading purposes, I'm left feeling like she's off. Perhaps she doesn't have the language to interpret my chart for me? I don't know. But, over the weekend, she told me some things that didn't resonate at all. I have great intuition, so I just shrugged it off. Perhaps when I finish reading my two new tarot books and study my new deck and get started on my Grey School of Wizardry class and finish the papers for my college classes and get my youngest to tie her shoes and read Dick and Jane books...maybe then I'll be able to delve deeper into numerology.
Maybe.
This month, I found out some local pagan friends are starting up a New Moon Dinner thing, so tomorrow, we'll be celebrating the New Moon with friends. Yay! I love potlucks (which is what this will be). I have very fond memories of potlucks at the masjid during Ramadan.
Today, as I was perusing the intraweb for numerology information, I found this page. My Life Path number is 40/4 and until that page, I had no idea the number 40 was so religiously important! I knew about Jesus and Moses, but I learned a lot from that page. I thought it odd that 11 had such a small blurb about it (and an obvious one at that: 11 comes between 10 and 12. Who knew?!), while the writer went on and on about 22 in numerology.
I find numerology interesting, but I do think that I take it more with a grain of salt than astrology. I'm not heavy into it (yet), but a friend of mine is and whenever she reads my numerology chart to me for future-reading purposes, I'm left feeling like she's off. Perhaps she doesn't have the language to interpret my chart for me? I don't know. But, over the weekend, she told me some things that didn't resonate at all. I have great intuition, so I just shrugged it off. Perhaps when I finish reading my two new tarot books and study my new deck and get started on my Grey School of Wizardry class and finish the papers for my college classes and get my youngest to tie her shoes and read Dick and Jane books...maybe then I'll be able to delve deeper into numerology.
Maybe.
February 25, 2008
interesting website
power to share
I happened upon it while searching for guided meditations for kids.
I happened upon it while searching for guided meditations for kids.
February 18, 2008
full moon and eclipse
So, on Wednesday, we'll have a full moon and lunar eclipse. Sounds fun! I'm not sure if I'll fast or not for this eclipse.
February is the time of the Storm Moon, so I suppose the kids and I will do a little something for that. (Some places say the Storm Moon isn't until March, though, and that Feb. has the Ice Moon. Who knows? *shrug*)
The lady at the local spiritual supply store called me today to let me know my World Spirit tarot deck is in. That's something to look forward to in my malaise. I'm feeling very "blah" today and my bed is calling out to me something fierce. She also has a copy of Portable Magic she'll be keeping for me, as I'm very interested in learning to use tarot decks for magic. I borrowed a friend's copy and it's good to just know all the extra information about the tarot, IMO.
I'm not really a "practicing magic" type chick, but I am definitely into obtaining information purely for the sake of doing so. I do know that I need to start being more physical with my practice, as I tend toward only doing energy work and since my energy is so often scattered (ha!), it's not been the most reliable way of getting things done.
February is the time of the Storm Moon, so I suppose the kids and I will do a little something for that. (Some places say the Storm Moon isn't until March, though, and that Feb. has the Ice Moon. Who knows? *shrug*)
The lady at the local spiritual supply store called me today to let me know my World Spirit tarot deck is in. That's something to look forward to in my malaise. I'm feeling very "blah" today and my bed is calling out to me something fierce. She also has a copy of Portable Magic she'll be keeping for me, as I'm very interested in learning to use tarot decks for magic. I borrowed a friend's copy and it's good to just know all the extra information about the tarot, IMO.
I'm not really a "practicing magic" type chick, but I am definitely into obtaining information purely for the sake of doing so. I do know that I need to start being more physical with my practice, as I tend toward only doing energy work and since my energy is so often scattered (ha!), it's not been the most reliable way of getting things done.
February 14, 2008
speaking of holes...
I came on a few minutes ago to blog about...who knows what. When I went to sign in, my computer didn't auto-fill in my info, so I had to try to remember what email account and password I had used for this blog. I haven't had it long, so one might think that would be a simple thing, but it wasn't. I've had so many blogs in the last two years, I can't keep these sorts of things straight.
So, I sign in using the correct account, but an old blog I haven't posted on since August came up. When I went to try to post something new on it (after going back and reading all the old posts, of course), the dashboard brought me to this blog, instead.
I'm fascinated. It seems I can't go back to that old blog now. Weird. Cyberspace... the final frontier.
Life is fun. =)
So, I sign in using the correct account, but an old blog I haven't posted on since August came up. When I went to try to post something new on it (after going back and reading all the old posts, of course), the dashboard brought me to this blog, instead.
I'm fascinated. It seems I can't go back to that old blog now. Weird. Cyberspace... the final frontier.
Life is fun. =)
February 13, 2008
whole holes holed up in woe
As I sit here thinking about how spiritually important music is...and how we must be careful with the music we subject ourselves to because that music helps create our self-talk...I realize how porous the Soul, Spirit, Self (or whatever you want to call it) is. There aren't just two openings (head and heart). It's like skin...to the naked eye, it looks solid, but when you get closer and if you use a microscope, you see holes and liquid and movement. Holes everywhere.
Holes everywhere.
I wonder if that's why scientists, etc. find black holes so fascinating. Even out in the big, expansive universe, there are...holes. Holes symbolize potential. They symbolize integration. They symbolize the Unknown.
If I look at a hole, I don't see a void. I don't see emptiness. I see something interacting with its surroundings in a different way. The inherent purpose of a hole is not to be filled up, but if you do...be careful. The hole has its own contributions and they must be respected.
So back to the porous Soul/Spirit/Self. I like to think of Life as Perfect Imperfection. (Imperfect Perfection is a different thing.) As I was washing apples this morning, I saw one with a soft, mushy spot. Maybe it had been dropped, but the way the spot was formed led me to believe a bug had probably been involved somehow. The Old Me considered throwing the apple out. Bugs in apples? Eeeew! But, the New Me said, "Uh, duh. Bugs belong in apples. They grow outdoors, for crying out loud." and we had a good laugh.
That apple was perfect. If I looked at it and chose to see something "wrong", that was not the apple's problem. Even with it's blemish and uneven coloring, it was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. And, I can honor that.
I can honor it in people, too. When I look at my holes, I try to understand them, not just make them go away. A hole is not necessarily a sign of absence. A blemish is not necessarily as sign of injury or wrongness. There is a whole (ha!) flipside to everything around us. How much time do we spend pondering the holes versus filling them up so that they disappear and look like everything else around them?
Peace
Holes everywhere.
I wonder if that's why scientists, etc. find black holes so fascinating. Even out in the big, expansive universe, there are...holes. Holes symbolize potential. They symbolize integration. They symbolize the Unknown.
If I look at a hole, I don't see a void. I don't see emptiness. I see something interacting with its surroundings in a different way. The inherent purpose of a hole is not to be filled up, but if you do...be careful. The hole has its own contributions and they must be respected.
So back to the porous Soul/Spirit/Self. I like to think of Life as Perfect Imperfection. (Imperfect Perfection is a different thing.) As I was washing apples this morning, I saw one with a soft, mushy spot. Maybe it had been dropped, but the way the spot was formed led me to believe a bug had probably been involved somehow. The Old Me considered throwing the apple out. Bugs in apples? Eeeew! But, the New Me said, "Uh, duh. Bugs belong in apples. They grow outdoors, for crying out loud." and we had a good laugh.
That apple was perfect. If I looked at it and chose to see something "wrong", that was not the apple's problem. Even with it's blemish and uneven coloring, it was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. And, I can honor that.
I can honor it in people, too. When I look at my holes, I try to understand them, not just make them go away. A hole is not necessarily a sign of absence. A blemish is not necessarily as sign of injury or wrongness. There is a whole (ha!) flipside to everything around us. How much time do we spend pondering the holes versus filling them up so that they disappear and look like everything else around them?
Peace
February 12, 2008
Netflix, Netflix...how do I adore thee?
I felt more mundane than sacred yesterday and I think today will be more of the same.
Last night, I figured out how to have 2 queues in my Netflix account and I'm a bit stoked about it. Simple pleasures, eh? LOL I created a separate queue for my kids and now I won't choose to feel badly that I'm putting my films at the top of the queue, leaving them to suffer the unfairness that is my selfishness.
I value selfishness, so it's not like I was feeling badly about it every day. It's just that they've seen practically every kid movie there is at the library and we don't have cable reception, so they've been watching what we own when they feel like watching TV and that can get boring. I know. That's why I signed up for Netflix in the first place.
I love the instant play feature of Netflix. *sigh*
I guess this turned into a Netflix love post. My bad. I figure loving Netflix has got to be better than hating life, tho, right?
Last night, I figured out how to have 2 queues in my Netflix account and I'm a bit stoked about it. Simple pleasures, eh? LOL I created a separate queue for my kids and now I won't choose to feel badly that I'm putting my films at the top of the queue, leaving them to suffer the unfairness that is my selfishness.
I value selfishness, so it's not like I was feeling badly about it every day. It's just that they've seen practically every kid movie there is at the library and we don't have cable reception, so they've been watching what we own when they feel like watching TV and that can get boring. I know. That's why I signed up for Netflix in the first place.
I love the instant play feature of Netflix. *sigh*
I guess this turned into a Netflix love post. My bad. I figure loving Netflix has got to be better than hating life, tho, right?
February 10, 2008
knitting >= meditating
I love knitting on circular needles. I love knitting, in general, but knitting on circular needles gives me a peculiar pleasure of which I can't seem to get enough. Maybe I just like knitting hats, but I'm pretty sure this applies to socks, too.
So, last night, as I was knitting with this fabulous baby alpaca and silk blend yarn, it dawned on me that in my moments of restlessness it's much easier to knit than meditate. Rather, it's much easier to meditate by knitting.
Last night, I ripped out stitches and began the project again twice. Each time was greeted with a thought of "this time I'll get it right" coupled with the realization that the actual knitting was such a peaceful activity (given said yarn), I had no problem doing it over and over and over.
In the past, I've tried to force myself to meditate when I felt restless. It's never worked out. Some might say I didn't sit there long enough or do it "right" or whatever, but that's just nonsense. When your body wants to do something, you should find a way to honor its desires. If my body doesn't feel like sitting still, who am I to force it to, anyway?
Knitting gives the body the motion it craves while simultaneously allowing me to sit on my butt. I tend to sit in the lotus position when I knit because: 1. it's more comfortable to me and 2. my crotch gets hot when I create things with my hands. (My sacral chakra in effect.) So, as I knit in lotus position, mumbling the names of the stitches ("knit one, knit two, knit three, pass slipped stitch over") and rocking to the beat of the knitting, my mind clears. I've yet to knit something so large that my hands run on autopilot, but I do notice a serenity come over me that is highly reminiscent of more traditional forms of meditation.
And, I like it.
I imagine lots of folks like it and that's a big part of why hand knitting is all the rage these days. You can create while quieting your mind. That's something our Busybody Society can appreciate, yeah?
I still like regular, ol' meditation. Don't get me wrong...nothing really beats just sitting with one's self, as far as I can tell. But, there are so many ways to meditate (social, productive, trance, etc.), it's always nice to "discover" that you've been doing another kind without being completely aware of it.
Off to do more productive meditation... The hat is almost complete.
So, last night, as I was knitting with this fabulous baby alpaca and silk blend yarn, it dawned on me that in my moments of restlessness it's much easier to knit than meditate. Rather, it's much easier to meditate by knitting.
Last night, I ripped out stitches and began the project again twice. Each time was greeted with a thought of "this time I'll get it right" coupled with the realization that the actual knitting was such a peaceful activity (given said yarn), I had no problem doing it over and over and over.
In the past, I've tried to force myself to meditate when I felt restless. It's never worked out. Some might say I didn't sit there long enough or do it "right" or whatever, but that's just nonsense. When your body wants to do something, you should find a way to honor its desires. If my body doesn't feel like sitting still, who am I to force it to, anyway?
Knitting gives the body the motion it craves while simultaneously allowing me to sit on my butt. I tend to sit in the lotus position when I knit because: 1. it's more comfortable to me and 2. my crotch gets hot when I create things with my hands. (My sacral chakra in effect.) So, as I knit in lotus position, mumbling the names of the stitches ("knit one, knit two, knit three, pass slipped stitch over") and rocking to the beat of the knitting, my mind clears. I've yet to knit something so large that my hands run on autopilot, but I do notice a serenity come over me that is highly reminiscent of more traditional forms of meditation.
And, I like it.
I imagine lots of folks like it and that's a big part of why hand knitting is all the rage these days. You can create while quieting your mind. That's something our Busybody Society can appreciate, yeah?
I still like regular, ol' meditation. Don't get me wrong...nothing really beats just sitting with one's self, as far as I can tell. But, there are so many ways to meditate (social, productive, trance, etc.), it's always nice to "discover" that you've been doing another kind without being completely aware of it.
Off to do more productive meditation... The hat is almost complete.
February 9, 2008
to make love, first insert creative phrase
The fast was to be part of a cleansing ritual involving: shaving my head, going vegetarian, and practicing celibacy for the known future.
I chucked those three parts of it.
For some reason, the closer I got to the time to begin all that, the clearer I felt that that was not my path this time. I didn't need to go veg*n, again, because if I just eat less meat, my body will be good with it. I didn't need to shave my head, again, because I cut off the parts that were clouding my energy and I've released myself enough. I don't need to go celibate, again, because I'm clearer that the next person I have sex with will be someone I can make love to. Not just default love...I do that, anyway. But, active "I love you and want to be part of your positive sphere" making love.
Through the years, I've never really understood the point of "making love." I used to actually hate the term. But, now...I think I've gotten to a point of awareness where I can see and embrace the positives in all potentially limiting activities. (Yes, that means I view making love as a limiting activity.)
Of course, there is also the potential for expansion in making love, but I don't think it exists as often in the traditional, R-rated movie version of it. I could have been wrong, but when I thought of "making love" in the past, I mostly saw people having sex who wanted the sex to be limited to them and be limited in what it signified (otherwise, why call it "making love?").
"Making love" always seemed to be a boundary. It always seemed to mean some sort of exclusivity. It always seemed to imply expectations and demands.
I've never thought those ideas and feelings belonged attached to sex. Sex is such a freeing form of expression for me, "making love" felt like a chore. It felt stifling and in direct opposition to who I am as a free, independent woman.
But, now, I can embrace the fact that there are as many ways to "make love" as there are people doing it, probably. I've had to watch a lot of romantic movies to get to this point, but now that I'm here: I want the love-making that increases vitality, increases creativity, increases general well-being for all in the world. I don't have to subscribe to the "one and only" mentality behind so much love-making. I accept that a person can make love to 3 different people in as many nights (or fewer) and that will not detract from the love given at any given moment.
I can accept that love-making is more about sharing than consuming. It's more about giving than receiving.
Of course, this has always been how I defined "sex." Good sex, anyway. But, now, I just have one more thing to call it. Perhaps something more poetic: making love.
I don't know. I think I'd still take "making babies" over "making love," but we're not talking about procreational sex, are we?
I guess another issue I've always had with "making love" is the assertion (by the phrase) that it's possible to make such a thing. I mean, love exists. You can't "make love" by inserting a penis or dildo or finger into a vagina or anus or whatever anymore than you can "make air" by taking five, deep breaths. You work with it, you don't create it. You work within the realm of it, you don't claim ownership over it. It's a process, yes, but not one of creation. If it takes sex for you to express love, do you really love? Possibly, but it sounds like conditional love to me and I've rarely a use for such a thing.
Why isn't good conversation called "making love?" It's just as important, IMO. Why isn't cleaning the house called "making love?"
I'm looking forward to the day when I'm watching a film and witnessing someone thanking someone else for making love to her when all the other person did was dogsit or water her flowers. That's when I'll know sex is really worth all its descriptions.
I chucked those three parts of it.
For some reason, the closer I got to the time to begin all that, the clearer I felt that that was not my path this time. I didn't need to go veg*n, again, because if I just eat less meat, my body will be good with it. I didn't need to shave my head, again, because I cut off the parts that were clouding my energy and I've released myself enough. I don't need to go celibate, again, because I'm clearer that the next person I have sex with will be someone I can make love to. Not just default love...I do that, anyway. But, active "I love you and want to be part of your positive sphere" making love.
Through the years, I've never really understood the point of "making love." I used to actually hate the term. But, now...I think I've gotten to a point of awareness where I can see and embrace the positives in all potentially limiting activities. (Yes, that means I view making love as a limiting activity.)
Of course, there is also the potential for expansion in making love, but I don't think it exists as often in the traditional, R-rated movie version of it. I could have been wrong, but when I thought of "making love" in the past, I mostly saw people having sex who wanted the sex to be limited to them and be limited in what it signified (otherwise, why call it "making love?").
"Making love" always seemed to be a boundary. It always seemed to mean some sort of exclusivity. It always seemed to imply expectations and demands.
I've never thought those ideas and feelings belonged attached to sex. Sex is such a freeing form of expression for me, "making love" felt like a chore. It felt stifling and in direct opposition to who I am as a free, independent woman.
But, now, I can embrace the fact that there are as many ways to "make love" as there are people doing it, probably. I've had to watch a lot of romantic movies to get to this point, but now that I'm here: I want the love-making that increases vitality, increases creativity, increases general well-being for all in the world. I don't have to subscribe to the "one and only" mentality behind so much love-making. I accept that a person can make love to 3 different people in as many nights (or fewer) and that will not detract from the love given at any given moment.
I can accept that love-making is more about sharing than consuming. It's more about giving than receiving.
Of course, this has always been how I defined "sex." Good sex, anyway. But, now, I just have one more thing to call it. Perhaps something more poetic: making love.
I don't know. I think I'd still take "making babies" over "making love," but we're not talking about procreational sex, are we?
I guess another issue I've always had with "making love" is the assertion (by the phrase) that it's possible to make such a thing. I mean, love exists. You can't "make love" by inserting a penis or dildo or finger into a vagina or anus or whatever anymore than you can "make air" by taking five, deep breaths. You work with it, you don't create it. You work within the realm of it, you don't claim ownership over it. It's a process, yes, but not one of creation. If it takes sex for you to express love, do you really love? Possibly, but it sounds like conditional love to me and I've rarely a use for such a thing.
Why isn't good conversation called "making love?" It's just as important, IMO. Why isn't cleaning the house called "making love?"
I'm looking forward to the day when I'm watching a film and witnessing someone thanking someone else for making love to her when all the other person did was dogsit or water her flowers. That's when I'll know sex is really worth all its descriptions.
February 8, 2008
I've been feeling so...clear...since the fast. I love it.
My next "adventure" will be the Wonderful World of Reiki. A friend suggested a book called Essential Reiki: Blah Blah Blah and I'll be checking it out from the library today.
Exactly how many balls can one person juggle at once? Apparently, if you're me, at least eleven.
My next "adventure" will be the Wonderful World of Reiki. A friend suggested a book called Essential Reiki: Blah Blah Blah and I'll be checking it out from the library today.
Exactly how many balls can one person juggle at once? Apparently, if you're me, at least eleven.
February 7, 2008
and it circles back to itself
The only thing I ate yesterday was a golden delicious apple. I began eating it around 11:35pm and yes, it was delicious. I don't recall when I finished eating it, but I know I was neither savoring every bite nor devouring it as quickly as possible.
I ate the apple, then went to bed. While lying in bed, I wondered if I should get up and fix myself a meal. I hadn't eaten all day...surely I'd feel that in the morning or during the night, since I tend to have nightmares when I don't eat enough before bed.
I stayed in bed and went to sleep, anyway. This morning, I felt so frickin' refreshed! I felt extremely "normal" (biologically) and I had no trace of headache or dizziness.
Yesterday was supposed to be a spiritual thing for me (and anyone else who participates in that sort of thing, I suppose), but I wasn't concerned with gods, religion, etc. yesterday. All I could think about was the guy I'm in love with and I wondered what that meant.
I still don't really know, but this morning, I'm more appreciative of Love. I'm happy that I live in a body that recognizes Discipline and with a heart that recognizes Love in all its forms. As I was lying in bed this morning, debating whether or not to get up and fix myself breakfast, my three-year-old draped her languid arm around my neck and I was appreciative that I could recognize that as a Sign of Love instead of Something to Endure when Living with Needy Beings.
This morning, I feel...electric. I feel...dynamic. I feel like kissing. Kissing slowly and passionately and meaningfully. The kiss would say: "I see you and I love discovering you and I love you and that is enough for me. I wish you well."
Perhaps I will say that to myself later. Is it crazy to kiss one's reflection when one is 32 years old? I don't know. I'm not sure I care. Kissing is important. Humans should do more of it. I think we talk so much to keep our mouths busy, but really we should be kissing. I think mouths are more geared toward that than communication.
So...today. Today has begun well. I did what I set out to do and I've found myself in a better space because of it. In the end, I suppose that's what Ritual is for. It's not about religion or beliefs...it's about connecting to Self and Source and being able to climb outside the boxes we like to live in and say, "Oooh...pretty!"
Peace
I ate the apple, then went to bed. While lying in bed, I wondered if I should get up and fix myself a meal. I hadn't eaten all day...surely I'd feel that in the morning or during the night, since I tend to have nightmares when I don't eat enough before bed.
I stayed in bed and went to sleep, anyway. This morning, I felt so frickin' refreshed! I felt extremely "normal" (biologically) and I had no trace of headache or dizziness.
Yesterday was supposed to be a spiritual thing for me (and anyone else who participates in that sort of thing, I suppose), but I wasn't concerned with gods, religion, etc. yesterday. All I could think about was the guy I'm in love with and I wondered what that meant.
I still don't really know, but this morning, I'm more appreciative of Love. I'm happy that I live in a body that recognizes Discipline and with a heart that recognizes Love in all its forms. As I was lying in bed this morning, debating whether or not to get up and fix myself breakfast, my three-year-old draped her languid arm around my neck and I was appreciative that I could recognize that as a Sign of Love instead of Something to Endure when Living with Needy Beings.
This morning, I feel...electric. I feel...dynamic. I feel like kissing. Kissing slowly and passionately and meaningfully. The kiss would say: "I see you and I love discovering you and I love you and that is enough for me. I wish you well."
Perhaps I will say that to myself later. Is it crazy to kiss one's reflection when one is 32 years old? I don't know. I'm not sure I care. Kissing is important. Humans should do more of it. I think we talk so much to keep our mouths busy, but really we should be kissing. I think mouths are more geared toward that than communication.
So...today. Today has begun well. I did what I set out to do and I've found myself in a better space because of it. In the end, I suppose that's what Ritual is for. It's not about religion or beliefs...it's about connecting to Self and Source and being able to climb outside the boxes we like to live in and say, "Oooh...pretty!"
Peace
February 6, 2008
unabashedly feminist
I love claiming feminism. As a woman, as a black (don't call me "African American" and limit who I am) woman, as a single woman (I don't use "divorced" b/c I refuse to continually reference myself to a male I'm no longer with), as a mother, as a black mother, as a single mother, as a HUMAN BEING...I claim feminism.
And, I'm proud that she does, too.
And, I'm proud that she does, too.
solar ecliptical fun
Today, I am fasting in honor of the solar eclipse. According to Hindu lore, it's been a religious tradition to fast for the 12 hours leading up to a solar eclipse, with absolutely nothing entering the mouth for the duration of the eclipse. (You can drink if you want, I guess, until the eclipse actually begins. That's how I'm interpreting it, anyway.) An eclipse can last up to 4 hours, according to what I've read. I figure if you've been fasting for 12 hours, 4 hours ain't gonna make you no never mind.
Besides, there is talk that digestion slows during a solar eclipse, so eating during that time isn't good for your health, regardless of religious following. That may be still more superstition, but...I tend to like superstition.
Interesting vid clip from India during a solar eclipse last September. This page gives some fascinating info about why a solar eclipse is beneficial (which kinda flies in the face of "traditional" Hindu beliefs about the inherent negative implications of one). I guess the page was specifically created with the double solar eclipse of July 2000 in mind, but the information presented is still worth reading, IMO.
I have been planning a life renewal for this particular day for the past two weeks and I awakened feeling very peaceful and emotionally full this morning. I noticed that before I even remembered that today is My Important Day.
The moon isn't New in my area until 10:43pm and the solar eclipse technically begins (as far as I can tell from this site) around 10:20pm EST. From the site:
"Greatest eclipse[1] takes place at 03:55:05 UT when the eclipse magnitude[2] will reach 0.9650. At this instant, the annular duration is 2 minutes 12 seconds, the path width is 444 kilometres and the Sun is 16° above the featureless horizon of the open ocean. The central track continues north before gradually curving to the east where it ends at local sunset at 04:31 UT. During its 1 hour 10 minute flight across our planet, the Moon's antumbra travels approximately 5,600 kilometres and covers 0.59% of Earth's surface area."
I feel like I have no idea what that means. LOL Does that mean the eclipse will last an hour and 10 minutes? I need to know when I can eat, ya know? Another site clues me in better (leave it the Aussies):
" The annular phase runs from 03:19:43 to 04:30:55 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time (GMT)."
Oh, yay! The eclipse will last one hour, eleven minutes, and 12 seconds. Good to know.
So, I've begun my fast and I've taken my bath. Now, I just need to shave my head, but I've got to wait on the moon and sun to get their acts together for that part. I'm glad the eclipse is only lasting about an hour, because I don't want to be up all night waiting to make my New Moon Wishes. I, personally, follow Jan Spiller's recommendations for NMW, but I found this info on about.com. I may incorporate some of those ideas into my practice...starting on the next New Moon. LOL
Off to the library, yarn store, and supermarket. I fast weekly, but I still like to test my ability to steer around four kids while feeling noticeably lightheaded. Don't we all?
Besides, there is talk that digestion slows during a solar eclipse, so eating during that time isn't good for your health, regardless of religious following. That may be still more superstition, but...I tend to like superstition.
Interesting vid clip from India during a solar eclipse last September. This page gives some fascinating info about why a solar eclipse is beneficial (which kinda flies in the face of "traditional" Hindu beliefs about the inherent negative implications of one). I guess the page was specifically created with the double solar eclipse of July 2000 in mind, but the information presented is still worth reading, IMO.
I have been planning a life renewal for this particular day for the past two weeks and I awakened feeling very peaceful and emotionally full this morning. I noticed that before I even remembered that today is My Important Day.
The moon isn't New in my area until 10:43pm and the solar eclipse technically begins (as far as I can tell from this site) around 10:20pm EST. From the site:
"Greatest eclipse[1] takes place at 03:55:05 UT when the eclipse magnitude[2] will reach 0.9650. At this instant, the annular duration is 2 minutes 12 seconds, the path width is 444 kilometres and the Sun is 16° above the featureless horizon of the open ocean. The central track continues north before gradually curving to the east where it ends at local sunset at 04:31 UT. During its 1 hour 10 minute flight across our planet, the Moon's antumbra travels approximately 5,600 kilometres and covers 0.59% of Earth's surface area."
I feel like I have no idea what that means. LOL Does that mean the eclipse will last an hour and 10 minutes? I need to know when I can eat, ya know? Another site clues me in better (leave it the Aussies):
" The annular phase runs from 03:19:43 to 04:30:55 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time (GMT)."
Oh, yay! The eclipse will last one hour, eleven minutes, and 12 seconds. Good to know.
So, I've begun my fast and I've taken my bath. Now, I just need to shave my head, but I've got to wait on the moon and sun to get their acts together for that part. I'm glad the eclipse is only lasting about an hour, because I don't want to be up all night waiting to make my New Moon Wishes. I, personally, follow Jan Spiller's recommendations for NMW, but I found this info on about.com. I may incorporate some of those ideas into my practice...starting on the next New Moon. LOL
Off to the library, yarn store, and supermarket. I fast weekly, but I still like to test my ability to steer around four kids while feeling noticeably lightheaded. Don't we all?
February 5, 2008
tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow, again
Tomorrow:
-there will be a solar eclipse
-there will be a new moon (you can't have a solar eclipse w/o one)
-will signify the beginning of the new Chinese year: the Year of the Rat
I find this very, very exciting. All of the above signifies "a beginning." In addition to those beginnings, we have the fact that all this is occurring during 2008, which also signifies a beginning (in numerology, 2+0+0+8=10, then 1+0=1, which is the beginning of the cycle...2007 signified the end of the cycle b/c 2+0+0+7=9 and in numerology, you generally work from 1-9).
So...all these new beginnings and during the Age of Aquarius, too. I'm practically hyperventilating over here.
Seriously. Stand back. I need air.
-there will be a solar eclipse
-there will be a new moon (you can't have a solar eclipse w/o one)
-will signify the beginning of the new Chinese year: the Year of the Rat
I find this very, very exciting. All of the above signifies "a beginning." In addition to those beginnings, we have the fact that all this is occurring during 2008, which also signifies a beginning (in numerology, 2+0+0+8=10, then 1+0=1, which is the beginning of the cycle...2007 signified the end of the cycle b/c 2+0+0+7=9 and in numerology, you generally work from 1-9).
So...all these new beginnings and during the Age of Aquarius, too. I'm practically hyperventilating over here.
Seriously. Stand back. I need air.
February 4, 2008
that's right...cuz inefficient cars sucketh
Sir Mark Moody-Stuart is perhaps living up to his surname and saying that the EU needs to ban cars that don't get at least 35 miles to the gallon.
He had me at "ban."
I don't keep up with cars (except to push for more electric ones and hybrids), but I did notice there was a Lotus Tesla car mentioned at the end of that article and I think I orgasmed a bit. A car named after Tesla? Is this right?
After I knit a cap, I'll have to google it. I'm fascinated.
He had me at "ban."
I don't keep up with cars (except to push for more electric ones and hybrids), but I did notice there was a Lotus Tesla car mentioned at the end of that article and I think I orgasmed a bit. A car named after Tesla? Is this right?
After I knit a cap, I'll have to google it. I'm fascinated.
for evolution, just add ice
I found this article about life potentially evolving in/from ice interesting. I didn't realize freezing had that sort of impact on RNA. If I didn't have knitting to do, I'd sit and read more about it.
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