Contentment

One of my favorite quotes from the New Testament in the Bible comes from Saint Paul who is quoted as saying "I have learned in whatever state I am, therewith to be content." Another one is from James Allen which goes "By virtue of the thoughts, which they choose and encourage; that mind is the master-weaver, both of the inner garment of character and the outer garment of circumstance, and that, as they may have hitherto woven in ignorance and pain they may now weave in enlightenment and happiness.

We are told, biblically, that when Eve bit into that pomegranate (you say apple, I say pomegranate since Persephone created her own "mess" LONG before Eve was even a conceptual thought"), she gave us the world today as we know it. Yes it is rife with flaws, beautiful AND dangerous but it is so full of promise. Sure, Eve supposedly gave us small pox, salmonella, and painful childbirth, but she also gave us glorious star filled skies, rainbows, and daisies. Eve's act of cat like curiosity, disobedient though it may have been, gave us pain and sorrow but it also wetted our appetites, dreams, desires --- it made us HUNGRY.

Because of this "first woman's, one discretionary act, I now have to worry about what to prepare for dinner tonight. Because of Eve I am forced to cook up creative projects that oft times leave me stewing in my own proverbial juices... hoping to find the right thing to please family, friends, and neighbors and temporarily assuage their appetites and hunger as well as my own.

I also know the intense desire for mystical morsels that only nature and spirit can provide me with; peace -- harmony -- self acceptance. Ah yes, manna from heaven.

The vast majority of Americans eat about three times a day but, ask yourself this question, how often is your hunger truly satisfied? I know that a stuffed French toast Breakfast replete with hash browns, sausage, and eggs over easy from IHOP does MUCH more for me then my typical morning breakfast of oatmeal and orange juice but, since I don't want to wind up looking like the Great Pumpkin, I can't indulge in that very often -- so hunger goes unsatisfied.

So, too, do most of us hold our other hungers in check -- be it in regard to food, relationships, careers, play, etc. -- stuffing our true selves into artificial shells as if sheer will alone will quell our longings. Doesn't really work now does it?

Over the past several months, as my newest battle with cancer and family issues have required my attention, I have become aware that hunger -- true hunger of the self -- is holy. Human beings, after all, know many kinds of hunger: from the emotional and physical to the creative and the spiritual. The Universe provides us with gifts of reason, imagination, curiosity and discretion -- thus we know how to distinguish from hungers of want and need. And in discerning the differences we struggle with contentment.

This morning, ask yourself this question : What am I REALLY hungry for?
Do I need a splendiferous breakfast or do I really need a break
Do I need to be cuddled or do I want a pizza?
Do I want a good nights sleep or do I need a "girls night out"
Do I want to be loved by everyone else, or do I need to learn to love me?

You see, when I speak of hunger I am actually thinking of the warmth, richness, and reality of a need that has been satisfied. So, do NOT despite hunger, or desire or even that feeling of discontentment for within each hunger is a spark of the divine.

LOVE, HUNGER, APPETITE, DESIRE
HOLINESS
WHOLENESS
ONE!

Dear God:
Please give to me a thankful heart for little things
For the sunshine on my kitchen floor
For the News the Postman Brings
Grant me appreciation for those small joys
Which were mine
My granddaughter's birthday parties
A honeysuckle vine
The clean fresh smell of clothes
Just washed
The organ cactus against the wall
Or a little girl's thrilled delight
To finally see her first snowfall
For robins in the spring time
And autumns cooling weather
For leaves that crunch
Friends in for lunch
And laughter shared together

I do NOT Ask Contentment
For that would ambition stay
Just let me love the little things
I find along life's way

Blessed be!

Esteem requires Confidence

In my humble opinion, self confidence should NEVER be confused with self esteem. To me, self esteem is how I feel about myself in the privacy of my own heart and soul; not the face I show the world. It is where I ask these difficult questions:

Question: Do I love, accept and approve of myself unconditionally?
Answer: No, not yet.
Questions: Do I believe that I am worthy of love"
Answer: I am beginning to think so.
Question: Do I believe I deserve the best in life?
Answer: Hell No.

Yep, I have some work to do in this esteem issue.

You see, I have learned a sad, hardened reality: the quality of self -esteem hinges almost entirely on our external relationships -- parents, spouses, relatives, teachers, religious, and even our own children. If they love us unconditionally, and have accepted and approved of us, then we probably do too. Alas, this is NOT the case for the majority of us for unconditional love is as elusive as a unicorn and is oft times an enigma surrounded in religious doctrine. Humans are after all -- human.

However, after I reached the age of 50, I learned the true meaning of self confidence (not to be confused with self bravado or ego). Self confidence is that magic elixir of spiritual grace that prepares me and you to face and surmount the challenges of life and yes, even death; that constant companion of each of us from the minute we are born.

As many of my readers know, I did not grow up in a supportive , loving home, but I fortunately did (and do) have loving and supportive people in my life. They showed me how to mix up my own aromatic blend of self confidence using the essences of: attitude, experience, optimism, knowledge, faith, and hope.

My after 50 face and body, yes even scarred and mutilated as it now is, is more comfortable that anything I have lived in previously. You see, self confidence is also an elusive fountain of "beauty". Despite the cancers(s), MS, and epilepsy I actually look better because I feel better about me. Failure, grief, and pain as well as success, joy, laughter, and love, truly have serve me well.
I have finally, Finally, FINALLY, tapped into that most hard won of all virtues -- wisdom. I do not know how much longer God plans to let me stay here, but for now, I am optimistic.

Optimism is essential to self confidence as is learning from our mistakes. EVERTYTHING in life -- in Nature (as well as everyone we meet or know) has something to teach us once we are willing to be taught. The key word here is WILLING.
I remember once telling my daughter Mary when she was a teenager and facing the obstacle of learning a new language in school: "If you think you can, you can and will. If you think you can't you can't and won't" (she passed by the way).
These are words I have lived by even today -- and they have seen me through many a bad bad time.

So, today, dear reader, let yourself believe that YOU can do anything you want to, because YOU CAN. (Something I always taught my children, my Jessie bear, and my scouts and "adopted children" ) All that is needed is a pinch of self confidence to enhance a wilted self esteem.
Stay on your chosen path. Blessed be.

Upcoming Contest connected to my new book Shadows of Love

Shadows Of Love: Shortly I will be running bi weekly contest to win a t-shirt or a coffee mug with my books cover and a quote from the lead poem... stay tuned

shadowsoflove.com

WHERE THERE IS GREAT LOVE, MIRACLES AWAIT

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! What a wonderful,unexpected gift this particular holiday can be if you take away the trappings of store bought cards, flowers, candy, and jewelry and concentrate on the reality and miracle of love and grace. Quick now,without thinking, honestly embrace the meaning of this day and ask for the grace to truly appreciate it for it will not come again for another 364 days.

Take this day to excavate buried dreams and express them out loud to those you love and to the Universe. Today is the day that has been set aside for love, which also leads to a perfect time for going within and glancing back (not in fear but with true affection of the person YOU are) and understanding where you have been on this real life journey so far.

Remember, how once we were going to set the world on fire? I do. But today, I, like each of you, have my own share of ashes amid those few bright sparks to show for 50 plus years of effort. Amid those ashes we have buried many a precious dream under layers of naivete, relinquishment, bitter failures, detours, dissappointments, rejections,wrong choices, bad timing, bungled efforts, stupid mistakes, unforseen circumstances, fate, missed opportunities, cruetly, and good intentions. Sigh, the road to hell is oft times paved with those good intentions isn't it?

My mentor, Donna Stickland Rodden, once told me not to be a "would be if I could be" but simply just to be. Not to copy or emulate another, but to be the real me. Now, while I have learned that dreams need doing as much as they need being, 50 plus years have also taught me that the being ALWAYS comes first.

So let today, February 14,be your day for being. Be with those you love (if only in your heart as in my case since those I love want nothing more to do with me). Be kind to yourself. Find a moment of quiet and call forth a dream you buried long ago. Feel its warmth? The ember is still glowing in your soul. See it in your mind. Hold it tenderly in your heart. Then ask for just one day's portion of grace to guide you through the rest of this wonder-filled day.

Now, let me share something that I have learned about grace. In my lifetime, battling so many of life's obstacles, I have been on my knees many times. Gratefully, most of my prayers have been answered just as I had hoped. Some, of course, were not (well at least not in the way I had wanted them to be). Others have been delayed until I though my heart would break. Still others have been denied (such as my fight with cancer, the death of my husband, the loss of the sunshine of my granddaughter due to anger and shadow). But NEVER have I asked for just one day's portion of grace and not received it.

What better day, than Valentine's Day to remember to ask for grace for grace fills our hearts and lets it love even more. Grace is available for each of us EVERY day.

Just ask. Ask for it with a grateful heart and try not to worry about whether there will be enough tomorrow... Love never dies and journeys past even our tomorrows.

Happy Valentines Day.

Blessed be.

If you live in your heart, you look around and see the kaleidoscope of humanity

Cezanne painted most of his masterpieces as a senior. Woody Allen still cranks out a movie each year though he's in his 70's. McCain at 72 and Ron Paul at 73 held their own on the campaign trail.


Quadriplegic Christopher Reeve inspired the world with his courage and perseverance. FDR, though disabled with polio, served three terms in office. JFK appeared in perfect health, but was often debilitated by an adrenal disease.


And then there are the countless anonymous folks living lives of quiet dignity though aged or ill. Grandparents who still travel and play tennis; women who keep their small room clean and tidy in an assisted care facility. The girl with Down's Syndrome whose smile lights up the neighborhood.


We all know people like this. Maybe we are people like this. I know I am: I am over 50, and I struggle with several chronic medical conditions.


If you live in your heart, you look around and see the kaleidoscope of humanity. People of different abilities, ages, challenges all trying to live happy and meaningful lives.


But if you don't live in your heart, if you live in your ideology, then your eyes see a different reality. You divide the world up into those who can serve the state and those who cannot.


In the world of Obama and his friends, there are able bodied people who can be used. Then there are the clunkers, the parasites and sponges. The welcome mat has been pulled out from under us; the Statue of Liberty is sinking.


For Obama, the only needy people are the invented victims, casualties of what Michelle Obama has deemed a "mean country." These sufferers deserve special status and help; for the rest of us, the sands of time may be running out.


People often say that Obama is a ham, who relishes the limelight. I question this. I actually think that his love of the camera is an act, just another page lifted from the Left's rule book. It's what all socialist/communist regimes do: foster dependence on the Leader; plaster his face everywhere. Make it all Obama, all the time.


I actually don't think Obama likes people very much. He enjoys playing Messiah, the Savior. But real, live human beings -- no.


Humans are polluters, "cancers," as Simone de Beauvoir, a famous lefty, called us. All we've done is pillage and destroy and oppress. We take up space on earth for no good reason.


Obama and his friends are the ultimate Repo Men. They want to recall our income, liberty, and freedom, because they don't think we deserve it. If they control our health care, they may repossess our very lives.


The country is in an uproar because we oppose the government accumulating so much power. We want to preserve our private relationship with our physicians. But it's more than this: we don't want people controlling our bodies who detest us. Only a fool would have coronary bypass surgery by a physician who long ago lost his heart.


Obama and his cohorts smile and charm; but it's an elaborate masquerade. They feel nothing but contempt. Rev. Wright bellowed, "God Damn America," when 3,000 of our citizens died. Bill Ayers and his wife Bernardine Dohrn beseeched youth to go home and kill their parents, and they admired Charles Manson.


I've heard speeches by Michelle Obama that emanate hostility. Obama's Science Czar advocates putting sterilizer in the water and implanting us with birth control devices -- that's how much he despises humans.


One of the most callous of Obama's friends is Zeke Emanuel, Rahm's brother, who is shaping health care reform. A doctor, Zeke mocks the Hippocratic Oath, which he considers as retro as an Edsel.


Zeke calls himself a "communitarian," and believes health care policy should enforce "social justice." His twisted views: the young and healthy should go to the head of the line, and health care should be eliminated for most of the disabled, for instance, people with dementia.


All socialist/communist regimes operate with the same mindset. People are disposable like pieces of a machine, to be trashed when the parts start showing wear. Humans are interchangeable things, with price tags hanging from our arms.


They pretend to be caring, selfless souls, but their arrogance is so grotesque it borders on delusion. Here's Zeke from August's Psychology Today: "In my family, trying to change the world is high on our priority list." Growing up, his family would brainstorm how to solve all of the world's problems. "No harebrained idea went unsupported."


Why in the world would the Powers that Be value an endangered lizard more than us? Because they look at the world through the lens of resentment and rage and only see good and bad, black and white. In their distorted world, there is no Truth, no Higher Power, no "time for every season under heaven."


There is no karma to work out, no crosses to bear, no grand design. The world is absurd, and they must reconstruct it, engineer a new and improved Genesis. Because they reside in the miserable, illogical world of the Self, they have no other path to redemption.


The person of faith beholds the world through the eyes of the Divine -- in brilliant, electrifying technicolor. For him or her, life is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved, as Kierkegaard, a profoundly religious man, phrased it.


I heard a lovely tale once about a convent at risk of closing because there were so few younger nuns taking vows. A nun traveled to a nearby village to ask the Mother Superior for assistance. The Mother said that this was a common problem and she had no guidance. Disappointed, the nun started to leave when the Mother added, "One thing I do know, though, is that Jesus lives among you in your convent."


When the nun returned and recounted the Mother's words, each sister was greatly affected. One nun's thoughts went like this, "Who could be Jesus? It couldn't be Sister Mary; she can be very terse. But then again, Sister Mary was so loving to me when my mother died. Maybe it is Sister Mary.


"I know it couldn't be me. I am such a simple nun. But then again, I am quite good with the children. Maybe it's me!"


As each nun started beholding each other, and themselves, as holy, they became transformed. The townspeople noticed the changes, and soon there were many young women coming to the convent to bask in the nuns' warmth and love. Before long, there were many new nuns taking vows, and the convent was saved.


When you view people as bodies that are utilitarian and disposable, your heart is as absent as the cold, metal tin man's in the Wizard of Oz. You are like the condemned souls in Dante's Inferno whose punishment was to never know God. To hide the emptiness, you try desperately to control the world.


But if you live in the Divine, then every day is a miracle, and human lives are precious gifts to be guarded and protected like newborn babes.


So, who is the next poet among us? The next artist, scientist, builder, adoring parent?


Who is the holy person in our midst?


Is it your grandchild whose laughter is brighter than the most incandescent star? Is it your mother, trying so valiantly to live on without her husband? Is it the girl with Down's Syndrome who lights up the neighborhood with her smile?


Is it me?


Is it you?


I don't know. It is not for me to know.


But one thing I am certain of: it is the height of hubris and moral blindness for the Powers that Be to dare to determine this for us.
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Second Book of Poetry has now gone live

Dear Readers:

Shadows of Love my second full book of poetry, has gone live... it can now be pre ordered from Amazona (both in soft bound and hard cover/dust jacket at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1456731238

At Barnes and Noble http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/9781456731236/?itm=1&USRI=bonnie+pike

It will be available to order through Books A Million and Borders as well... soon.

Please share this information with others and should you decide to purchase the book please go to the website of the company you purchase from and leave a comment on what you think. If you would, also please ask them to carry this on their shelves.

You may also see previews of the book at my website of ShadowsofLove.com

Thank you. I hope you will enjoy it.

Blessed be

The Person Who Did Not Have A Chance...?

Merle Shaim, a Canadian author and journalist wrote some of my favorite books -- one of them is titled Courage My Love; A Book To Light An Honest Path. I highly recommend its reading, particularly in these increasingly difficult times.

In her writings, I have come across two quotes (in truth there are many more) which have always gently spoken to me and touched my soul but lately have been screaming at me and whacking me across the head with a two by four...

The conflict between what one is and what one is expected to be touches all of us. And sometimes, rather than reach for what one could be, we choose the comfort of a failed role, preferring to be a victim of circumstance, the person who did not have a chance. (aka victimhood, of which our current society is rife with.)

AND

One often learns more from ten days of agony than from ten years of contentment (How true this one rings. Ask any survivor of war, catastrophic illness, hurricane/tsunammi survivors, or someone who has had an innocent, pristine child ripped from their lives out of ignorance, anger, stupidity or hate, by a once beloved partner, spouse, or adult child.) You do learn much from pain don't you?

These very things have led me to a place where I know many now keep company -- the fear of success and the awakening to the fact that this fear stems from seeking other's approval and not giving myself credit. Of wallowing in self doubt, self depracation, and fear. Sound familiar to any of you?

How many of you remember a song children sang, oft times while traveling... """"the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, and what do you think he saw""""? Yep, he saw another damned mountain.

I find I suffer from this very same mountain climbing syndrome; scaling one mountain after the next, over coming one more obstacle or tragedy, trying to smash that invisible glass ceiling, trying to be that "perfect imposter" that makes everyone else happy but not me. Never, however, while accomplishing these tasks, did I "celebrate" me. Even in the publishing of my new book of poetry "Shadows of Love; a Walk Through Life" I find myself shrugging off personal triumphs and accomplishments -- seeking instead for other's approval.

Tracing this unnurturing behavior back to its roots, I can see a shadow self standing fearfully quiet, waiting for that parental approval which never came (and now never will). Decades later, and with the help of other unmet needs (not wants) and self absorbed people, I have come to believe that nothing I do is ever good enough so I have continued on a somewhat self destructive cycle of withholding approval, not from family, friends or coworkers, but from myself.

Then, when I truly get myself to the point of feeling absolutely worthless, I pick up the last Mother's Day present I ever received from my Jessie bear, open the cover, and hear her soft little voice saying " Happy Mother's Day Mom-mom; I love you", and look over a scrapbook of memories she and I made just by being ourselves and enjoying life. Then, in my mind and heart, I feel her tiny arms steal around my neck and hear her saying "you know who is the bestest in the whole wide world? You are Mom-mom!. Ahhh, the faith and love of a child can move mountains can't it?

So today, despite the fact that the only piece of sunshine I ever truly knew has been ripped from my life, I am moving forward... supported by that innocent love and belief. I will honor the faith and love of my granddaughter by honoring accomplishments, dreams, and even failures and leaving her a legacy of courage, conviction, hope, and unconditional love...

Although no one will EVER crown me "Queen for a Day" and the world wil never confer a recognition that can ever make me feel fulfilled or whole like Jess did and can, I know I can. After all, can ANY of us really afford to wait for the worlds approval? For anyone's approval?

So, dear reader, join me today by making your accomplishments matter, no matter how trivial they seem to you. They are NOT! Rummage around and find old photos or memorabilia that say HEY!! I did this!! and then display them proudly and rejoice. Pour a glass of wine and celebrate YOU and I will join you in a toast of success, approval, gratitude, and love.

I believe in you and I believe in me too.

FINALLY

The golden apple devoured has seeds -- it is endless.

Blessed be.

MOM-MOM’S LOVE
(The promise I can’t keep)
Tiny footsteps padding softly down the hall
Moving very quickly, like a slinky, covert cat
Slipping through the dimness toward the light
The query, “where is my Mom-Mom at?”
Pretending not to notice, I continue with my studies
A shuffl ing in the corridor, causes me to steal a peek
Tousled, rumbled hair, drowsy, sleepy eyes
Lurking in the shadows, appearing very meek.
Clearing from my throat a pretentious little lump
I gently close my book, appearing nonchalant
In a faint and fretful voice, the visitor proclaims
”Sitting with my Mom-Mom truly what I want.”
Feigning grave surprise, a gasp I let escape
I hear giggling from the shadows, but not a move she makes
Powerless to prolong my ridiculous charade
I open my arms wide, will this be the cue she takes?
The little fairy fl oats across the room
Limbs extended out toward me, a beam upon her face.
She hurls herself upon me, wriggles nearer yet
A sigh seeps from her lips, as I enfold her in my embrace.
Angelic features radiant, warm breath upon my cheek
A sleepy, wispy line she speaks, and I begin to weep,
”Promise when I wake, you will be here just for me?”
”I love you very much, you know”
And she tumbles off to sleep.

THE DEAD ZONE

I truly cannot remember when I first started writing--it seems, to me, that I was born with a pen in my hand; much more able to communicate through a poem, letter, or essay than to do so verbally. I know I have always been a writer and no matter what someone says or does, I cannot "not" write.

Throughout the course of my lifetime, writing has NEVER been about being published, in fact, I could care less. It is, however, the only way I have ever had or known to speak, emote, or simply just be. I do find that I am more comfortable in writing in long hand long before I could take it to the typewriter or now to the computer. There is something very intimate that occurs between me, the pen, and the page that is lost on the electronic world. However, progress has forced all writers to turn to the computer and eventually the world wide web. First, however, I have to feel that pen, that paper, and the flow of spirit.

The writing life is rarely "exciting"; in fact, there is little excitement involved in the process. At times, the writing process is akin to walking through my beloved desert in the afternoon heart with virtually no end in sight and just enough water to make it through. During those moments, I look for that special image only to find it was a mirage.

At other times, everything feels empty and nothing I write seems to hold or to have value. I can compare it to trying to grab a fistful of sand with open hand and watch the grains of sand run through my open fingers much like time now runs through my life. This is when I question the value of my writing.
I remember my mother telling me that writing was a waste of my life and that I would never be able to make a living from it. My father did not want me to go to school for journalism; he wanted me to be a teacher, a nurse, or a secretary. Others in my life, when I am absent from community or family because I am lost in the writing process, want to know what I do all day in what feels, to me, like and endless need to control time or me.

I have finally learned that things outside myself have always been demanding me to conform or to placate; but conformity and placating others robbed me of my life, offered me no challenge, and left me feeling spiritually dead. That is what I have come to call my 'dead zone'. So I have arrived at a place where I can no longer allow the wants or demands of others to create inertia within any longer; my life is too short and I will no longer fail myself.

The only failure in writing is when I let others stop me; when I stop writing, saying what is on my mind, sharing my convictions ,dreams, sorrows, ideals, loss, etc. If I allow things, others, or circumstances to silence my writing then I also fail myself and I will no longer do that. Others are free to debate my writing, enjoy it, hate it, or ignore it, but no one is allowed to tell me to stop writing or to stop sharing; NO ONE.

So, the outside world can go right ahead and scream at me because I have created, with the help of God, supportive counselors, doctors, and friends, an inner world of determination. I now make consistent positive efforts for the good, not only of others but for myself.

When I am writing, I feel like I, alone, have the responsibility to make the earth turn around the sun. In a way, this is a truism for all because each of us does, in fact, create the world.

Guess I had better get to work then... This is where I find my personal power and NO ONE is going to take it away. Don't let anyone take yours away either. Let's do away with the Dead Zone.

Vogue and Vague... not knowing who we really are

"We are not born all at once, but by bits. The body first, and the spirit later. Our mothers are racked with the pains of our physical birth; we ourselves suffer the longer pains of our spiritual growth"

The above quote comes from a book written back in 1912 called the Promised Land. The Promised Land is Mary Antin’s mature autobiography. In it, she tells the story of what she considers her escape from bondage in Eastern Europe and her finding of freedom in America. Early in the book, she compares herself to a treadmill horse who can only go round and round in the same circle. She sees herself in Polotzk in what was then Russia as imprisoned by her religion (Jews were allowed to live only in certain places in Czarist Russia and only to work at certain trades) and her sex (among Orthodox Jews in Eastern Europe, women were not permitted education beyond learning to read the Psalms in Hebrew).

Simone de Beauvoir, the French existentialist, philosopher, writer and essayist, who wrote the book Women as other put this belief in another way "One is not born a woman, one becomes one"... and at the age of 55 I have come to learn how very right these two very different women were and are.

I am just now beginning to make peace with myself as I realize I, too, have lived in my own "prison" The return of cancer into my life back in 2006 and the ongoing battles that have ensued since as well as great family turmoil which unglued my family at the seams six months ago have let me realize that I do not need to "guild the lilly" per-se... that I can drop those aritifical trappings of my life which I clung to in fear of not being "liked", "loved", or accepted or having people leave me and allow the real me to be revealed. I can live and breathe free loving and enjoying life with the blessings of God as ME

Very few of us are blessed with this type of real growth at a young age. Growth of maturity and spirit takes time. We need time to consider, time to reflect, time to make creative choices, time to emerge from the cocoon, time to clean out the skeletons from our closets, time to clear away the psychic and spiritual cobwebs so that we can then pare down our "essence" and become REAL. It is also not a painless process... as our mothers once gave birth to us in pain so too giving birth to ourselves causes pain. A. W. Tozer once wrote, "It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until he has hurt him deeply." God has a mission for your life and mine. But before we can carry out that mission, we will often go through the boot camp of adversity. If this is where you find yourself today, ask God to give you His grace to walk through this time with you. He promised He would never leave or forsake us.

The main problem I see, not just for women but for men as well, is that most of us have remained dormant for years -- drugged senseless and beaten down by our own numbing disapproval, nagging self doubts, and absolute benign neglect. Coping strategies that once brought a sense of reief suddenly only fill us with regret.

Therefore, to undo this damage (and in my case that damage was massive) and reconnect with our own true natures, we need to take the plunge, that all important but so difficult leap of faith, confident that God will hold the net. Then too, we need to treat ourselves gently with the very same kindness we would bestow on someone with a traumatic brain injury who need the patient reassurance of their own identities and capabilities.

The truth of the matter is until you make peace with who you are, you will never be content with what you have... nor can you truly be grateful.

blessed be.

Discontent is a powerful tool

I stumbled upon one of my favorite "creative exploration" book back in 1996, "The Artist's Way; A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity back in 1996 when I was dealing with severe writer's block and stagnating dreams. This is where I learned that there is only one journey; going inside ourselves. There is only one destination.. and each person has an individual one but surprisingly, it eventually leads us all to the same place; HOME.

In working with the guidelines in this book, I learned to switch on the spiritual electricity and through this I have discovered more energy and inspiration, amazing discoveries and delightful coincidences and the ability to not only to accomplish new goals but to lose and let go of old ones as well with grace.

"Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness....Sometimes, at that exact moment, a wave of light breaks into our darkness and it is as though a voice were saying ""you are accepted"". Isn't that what most of us are seeking? Acceptance of who we are both by other and by ourselves?

Sometimes, the switch to our spiritual electricity is turned off or a dimmer switch is attached. Suddenly dissatisfaction seeps through a crack in the door and we are left in the dark, left to our own devices... forgetting that ALL we need do is get up, walk over to the wall, and turn on that switch. As my readers have heard me say several times... you have to ASK. I have learned that asking is the only way to turn on that spiritual light. It is always there, I just have to ask.

The dissatisfaction I feel when the switch is turned off or dimmed manifests itself in a myriad of ways. Suddenly I do not like ANY room in my house as decorating mistakes from past lives haunt me. My clothes don't fit right anymore. I grow bored with the meals I am cooking. And even worse, looking at things with gratitude begins to irritate me and gives way to restless discontent. This is when I have to hold on with nails, teeth, and show true grit and remember the wise words of English Historian Cicely Wedgewood "Discontent and disorder are signs of hope, not despair"

What is occuring at times like these, both on a personal and interpersonal basis, is part of the process I call divine discontent. After all an oyster cannot make a pearl without that piece of grit that irritates it can it?

This year I have stepped into (been thrown into)my creative second chance; I am coming into my own. I have finally, after almost 55 years, come into my own life and am wrestling my future from fate. Perhaps, I am even learning to spin straw into gold... (smile)

I am accepting that God holds me.. the Universe beckons and through all, I am grateful that I can live by my own spiritual light.

So can you, dear reader... ASK for it.

Blessed be.