Posts Tagged ‘body’

First, I want to point out that I struggle with the concept of “A God” You’re thinking that something happened in my life to question a divine-intersex’s existence. Yes, but it’s not what you think. The battle has to do with the use of the word vs action.

Everywhere I go, I hear, “Thank God.” A baby falls out of a three story building and lives, by a feat of heroism or—dare I say—a miracle. Who do we blame when the baby dies? We don’t scream at the devil. And what about those people who saved the baby? They are thanked but only as a tool of God. People devote many years of their lives studying ways to save human lives. Most police officers understand that their job sometimes require the ultimate sacrifice. Our military suffers the most yet when they manage to survive and make it home, God is nowhere to be seen, to ensure the healing and gratitude they earned.

Now I want to tell you a story/joke. You may have heard it somewhere before, but It’s a story/joke that’s stuck with me. I, of course, am adding my own twist to make a deeper point.

A man stood on his rooftop surrounded by rising water. He prayed to God. To help him.

A man in a rowboat came by and told him to hop in. The man refused, saying God would save him. The water rose higher. A man in a motor boat came by and told him to hop in. Again, the man refused saying that God would save him. Just as a helicopter flew to him and hovered a few feet above his head, the water rose up over the man’s ankles. A rope ladder was thrown down to dangle just able the man’s head. A woman yelled for him to climb up and instead of grabbing hold of the ladder. He pushed it away and said, “I don’t need your help. God will save me. The helicopter pilot flew away.

The man drowns and goes to heaven where he meets god. The man is furious. He yells, “I had faith in you! I had faith that you would save me, and  instead you let me drown!” God smiles and says, “I sent you a rowboat, a motor boat, and a helicopter.”

“But that was not you,” the man whined.

“Of course it was,” God replied in a voice that projected a murmur of many tones, female and male. “Every choice you make brings you closer to us or further from us. It is not the acts thrust upon you, but the reaction to those acts that define who you are. Together we are invincible, apart we are vulnerable. That is why we test each other. We are the good actions and the bad actions that stand at every crossroad. On earth, our choices affect all like they do here, but there on, on earth, you think you’re alone and that makes you prey to fear which leads to hate which causes pain to millions who you refuse to see or know. If on earth you can see others outside of your skin, then ascension has begin. For, if you can feel beyond the limits of your body you will never feel alone again.

“What does this mean for me?”

“Back down you go.”

”Noooooooo.”

I have three children, all adults now. My twenty-one year old daughter came to me today, furious. I thought something terrible had happened and jumped immediately into the protective mommy zone.  “The world is soo unfair,” she shouted. I cocked my head at the unexpected declaration. I’m fifty, so yeah, I know the world is unfair, but I let her vent. At age twelve, my tall slim little girl was diagnosed with severe scoliosis. After two major surgeries, her spine, through not significantly curved is still very twisted, giving her the lung capacity of an eighty year old and a bladder the size of a toddler. Her outrage was for the latter. “Why, in general, are men’s bathrooms equipped with several stalls and urinals and the women’s with just two stalls with one broken forever? I have to wait on line which makes me late for classes.” Once her rage took hold, she yelled about other venues and injustices women endure every single day.

The women reading this get it. Though the rights of validity, through protests and celebrity endorsements, have moved the scales (At a snail’s pace) closer together, it will be some time before architecture, medicine, rights, considerations, man made religions, etc… catch up to nature or die. And the old narcissist fearful, cowardice men in power gently fall into a forever sleep. It will happen, unfortunately not for me in this lifetime. Not that I sit back and let it happen. I fight. I was born with sharp teeth. Maybe when I’m reincarnated….I’ll get to experience nature’s balanced world or maybe another because the narcissists destroyed the earth to make their billions just before they died.

As women continued to step up, help each other, stand strong for one another and not fall folly to the manipulations of weak, cowardly men who demoralize them with the use of politics, religion and “Cause I said so, woman!” Even though I may not be your next door neighbor, I am with you. Women make up 51% of the USA population and that’s despite how many of us are killed/devalued by boyfriends, husbands, stalkers, predators who hate women because their own personal insecurities, men who blame women for their own disgusting weak thoughts. We are blamed for all of men’s weakness. Women are the blamed for original sin. (Man-made religions do that) Thank goodness these men are dying out and men with compassion who don’t need to belittle others to feel strong are thriving. Yay for that. We do not exist to be doormats. At one time, women kept tribes nourished by producing 70% of the food consumed.

Breastfeeding is 100% natural. To all those who have a problem with a mommy feeding their baby in public…. go enjoy yourself a cigarette!!!!

Thank you for reading!

It starts inside. Loneliness. You own it. A seed you plant before awareness of the world, the truth of family and tradition. We all seek to fill the void we’ve created, but is it real? Some will tell you it’s not. Confusion will dizzy your mind and make you question what you feel.  You ask, “How do they know?” Because up until now, they knew everything. The older you get the more questions arise building a thick barrier made up of 100x more questions than answers. What once was simple is now a wind storm knocking you back making you rethink your true self. Your goal is at the end of your path that is littered with everyone else’s obstacles, fears and challenges. The journey is daunting and proved so far to be painful. Should you move forward? Yes. Traversing the warnings and forbidding’s from the inside of others is just one of your challenges. Set out to get to where you want to be. In the beginning, if you choose YOU, you will be more alone than you’ve ever felt, especially if fear is the glue that sticks your family and friends together. Truth be told, there is always someone who will try to talk you out of your journey. They will talk about the safety of home and their personal choice. Show you the world ahead through their eyes… their perspective. Remember, you have your own thoughts, desires and goals and you’re already scared and looking for that one reason not to take the first step away from home and the world you know. It is more than likely that their compassionate guidance will turn on you, especially if they were fear-talked out of seeking their hearts desires and the comfort of your stationary presence confirms their choice not to reach their goal. There’s no one more battle worn than someone fighting someone else’s battle. Understand that, when you are where you want to be, there is no fighting and no defending . Your armor is your heart and your weapon… five simple words. This. Is. Who. I. Am.

In return to learn

My spirit hungers for knowledge greater than any pain a challenge offers

Lessons are brutal

The scars I bear are the badges I display in every life I live

I chose them to lift me up or break me into little pieces of reflection

The more times I return insures deeper wounds

Greater feelings

Those around me and with me are handpicked by me

They’ll catch my tears or shove me into the hole I’ve dug for myself

and sometimes are the guides I refuse to hear

I started out a speck of barely anything

My steps forward were short and strenuous

Simple but momentous results did occur

They took on momentum the more I succeeded or failed

A diamond is coal under pressure for billions of years before becoming more

Not difficult to see the similarities

Nature is a blueprint of what we could be

Pay attention

Don’t take nature for granted

We are all part of each other

And never forget

Failure is part of learning

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. The name is as relevant as the person who named it and thus has very little consequence. A rose and its classification as a flower are titles given by the least of the world’s natural entities… human. It’s beauty is ranked in the eye of the individual beholder. There are humans who hate flowers and are disgusted by their presence, just as there are those who find fecal matter the end-all-and-be-all of life. I find myself arguing for the right of my perception to be valid rather than the legitimacy of my view point, more and more these days. The art of semantics. I should write that book. Perhaps after I finish the Waking Up Vampire series. The art of Semantics’ sub-title: Why people live by definition rather than consequence. or.. Why people need to blame a divine entity for their decisions when in reality it is where their consciousness leads them. I’m not exempt from the inconsistency of irrational thought. In fact, I spend a lot of time meditating on this intriguing phenomenon, so much that I can announce, in the moment before a crazy irrational, unreasonable tirade is about to take over my, normally pleasant (Yes. You can laugh) laid back temperament that I’m about to explode. I’m going to write more about this on my blog… after I finish writing/editing the last 200 plus pages of Waking Up Vampire.. in the next two weeks. To tide you over, be my guest and read Twisted Fate, by Mel Evers. A review would be wonderful and truly kiss-your-feet appreciated. Peace

*Write about a moment in childhood when you suddenly caught a glimpse of the adult world.

(When my mom had cancer)

-she wore beautiful colorful bandanas
-she was so strong even when weak

She walked through the front door… For the first time in what felt like forever, I got to see her. The image of her weakness did not hide the strength hidden within her. The battle scars were out to show the world what she had endured and conquered. She wore the colorful bandana that covered what once sprouted thick dark brown locks and her body was now frail though just a year before, she could carry a child in each arm with one more pulling at her leg.
Standing on the carpeted blue steps just 10 feet away from the door, my ignorant seven year old legs shook. Was it excitement? Was it pain? Maybe they were eager to run up to her so I could hug her and never let go. What was stopping me? Frozen in my own mind, I could only think of how happy I was to see her. Though I was not told, maybe I knew deep down that what was only three days in the hospital, was almost a lifetime of loss. Almost a year of staying at my cousins house on and off and being taken care of by my dad yet nothing ever occurred to me farther than “mommy is sick.” Almost a year of doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy.
The welcome home banner above my head, decorated by family as what we treated as an art project, represented what was rather than what could have been. Pictures of rainbows, colorful houses and happy stick figures covered the grateful banner. The representation of returning strength and a future with her, rather than without. A future full of hope rather than loss of the most important woman in my life. The woman that took care of me when I was hurt or sick. The one that refused to leave my side when I needed her. That moment is drilled into my mind, will never be just a memory, but a reminder of what I have and what matters. A memory that drives me to hold on to what I have for as long as I can and to not take anyone for granted. A memory that once in a while shows itself to remind me of the moments that could have been lost if things would have been different.
I jump off the stairs and run to her. I have never let go since.

4/16/18

Truth

Posted: January 23, 2017 in life lessons, Uncategorized
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I’m not saying that…ugh I do hate saying this… he is not my president. He was elected. I’m saying that what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard and having been personally insulted because of my beliefs by his fans, I am scared shit of what this man is capable of doing. I thank all the women and men from our past who fought for my right to have a voice. I thank the men and women today for keeping us going toward the ultimate goal of being a human being with the same rights as men.
Some white men get it…some don’t. Most women get it… some don’t. I trust my instincts and have the ability and elite skills, to say what I feel without having the need to insult anyone’s beliefs or put down anyone’s personal journey. I don’t need to resort to fake news to help me get through this trying time or to make me feel vindicated about my beliefs and self worth. It takes all of us together a unification of morals to be a strong sound, and well-balanced nation. WE can make sure that, even though we may or may not like him, this country will be successful. The petty stupidity of the senate and congress for decades contributed by both parties, have caused our nation to fall. Their inability to put the United States of America before their personal egos has brought us to where we are today. I’m angry but anger doesn’t make my IQ fall. I want us to succeed no matter who is sitting behind the big desk in the white house. We the people are in charge. If we come together and fight for peace, for our country’s safety, to be kick-ass, force the government to focus on getting people more jobs, feeding our hungry, helping the poor, bring those they’ve forgotten back into our light… our nation will thrive.

I have my beliefs. I think I know what I would do in certain circumstances, but am not 100% sure. No one is. My beliefs do not “Trump” your rights and beliefs. I feel superior to no one. I rarely make promises. Too many interfering variables. In my opinion, the chaos theory is alive and well and a factor no one can control. Pretending to love under the terms of psychological hate is the rudimentary basis of a repressive soul. I don’t know everything. I feel around and hope I get it right. If right ends in whole happiness, I came close. If right ends in the destruction of my initial goal, then I failed to understand and I try again, differently. Forgiveness is key to escape misery. What people say and do represents who they are and has nothing to do with you. We are our own entities fighting for stability, peace and happiness. No ones end game is the same. The belief that what is right for me is right for you is immature and disastrous. To have a solid grasp on your beliefs’, you must take the journey to find yourself. It’s a difficult and bloody road to traverse, but at the end you will be confident, understanding and compassionate to those fearful and refusing to take that first step. I fight. I’m a warrior soul. It’s what I know. It’s who I am. To fight a battle properly, I seek information from both sides of the front line and instead of taking sides, I listen for the truth to speak to me out of the thunder of war. War has three truths. The opposing perceptions and what is truly the cause. That third truth is why the war started. To get both sides to listen, there needs to be a cease-fire, a silence. Sometimes you have to be that silence, that reprieve that cleansing breath. You have to be on the highest mountain looking over the fires and explosions, where breathing is hard and thinking even harder, to really see. To really feel. To Really know what is happening. Otherwise you’re just another screamer, accuser hater, and simply part of the problem. We all have the skills to help. To understand. To be compassionate. It’s a choice.

Less is more

Posted: December 16, 2016 in Uncategorized
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I live in the past, present, and the future. I learn from what has been, bring it into the now and reference it to pave the way ahead. We all have demons to slay. Some are long dead ghosts. Others are flesh and blood reminders of guilt. In pursuit of personal peace, my choice of weapon is words. Anger killed me slowly. Fear kept me hidden. Guilt moved me backwards. Blame shut me down.  What was left, cried.

Cancer spoiled my pity party

Focus fight or die. I’m alive.

 

What if the only thing between you and happiness, freedom and living is Forgiveness? That “thing” being years and brainwashing thick. Will you attempt to climb over? Or chisel your way through? Most sit, huddled at its base feeling sorry for themselves. Is freedom worth the effort? The acceptance? Understanding? Will acknowledging fault be too much weight to bear? Takes one step–one word–one acknowledgement to begin that journey. What would convince you to start?