This is a safe place where women can speak their truth and be validated. Life can be tough, but life can be so beautiful if you have the strength to open your eyes and see it! We are nothing short of superhero goddesses; let's support each other rather than tear one another down. The weight of the world doesn't feel as heavy when we have gentle hands to help us hold it up.
As little children our prayers probably went a little something like, "Bless Mommy, Daddy, Sissy, and keep Fido safe since he has to sleep outside." A very endearing supplication from an innocent little heart to God's ears somehow gets warped when that tiny child grows. The adult prayer tends to go more along the lines of, "Please help me get a better job, bless my finances, make my spouse act differently, bless me with more, help me lose weight, I need, I need, I need, I want...." Everyone has the right to pray however they choose, but what is the purpose? What IS prayer? Prayer is more than just a time to beseech a power higher than ourselves for what we need and desire, it is a time to align ourselves with all of creation and its greater good. When we come before the God of our understanding we are humbling ourselves to our will and saying aloud that our life is exactly the way it was meant to be at that moment for whatever lesson we were meant to learn; it is trust. It is love; knowing that we will be taken care of the way that the birds of the air and the beasts of the field are cared for. Sometimes we ask for healing that doesn't come, but I think what we must understand is that once we come to God in prayer there is a way to set our inner spirit in line with our God spirit. Prayer is our conscious connection to God and we must pray in an authentic way to truly make a difference in our own lives. That means not turning to God when we need something, but turning to God when we want to be with someone. When we realize that prayer is not about our words to God, but rather about our life WITH God then prayer becomes energy medicine.
Our highest energy center, Sahasrara, is the source of enlightenment and spiritual connection to all that exists. It is the realization that we are pure awareness, emerging through the confines of the physical body, ego, mind, and intellect. Like a single drop in the ocean, we are a part of something in which we are contained and encompassed into every expansive aspect of consciousness. Through this connective awareness we can live with devotion, not obsession, kindness, faith, inspiration, prophetic knowledge, and removed illusions. Our connection to the wisdom of what is sacred enables our symbolic sight, vision, intuition, healing, and a quality of trust that transcends human fears. The spiritual crown empowers us beyond what our physical limitations know because we somehow remember who we were before we became this human that we see in the mirror. Our souls are not bound by space or time and our bodies are merely an energy ladder that, as we learn to climb it, connects us with the divine Creator of earth and heaven. When our spirituality is out of balance we tend to lean towards cynicism, closed-mindedness, depression, fatigue, migraines, materialism, frustration, boredom, sleep disorders, and mental illness. In our darkest night the truth is calling to us, beckoning for us to come towards the light and learn what has been known for all of eternity, to see what can only be seen by those who seek, and to drink what our souls have been thirsting for since the moment we were born.
This depression can sometimes arise out of what Saint John of the Cross called the "dark night of the soul," or spiritual awakening. He believed that in some instances people needed to break away from the church in order to seek their own spiritual development and form a fully conscious bond with the Divine. The development of strange new fears, the absence of meaning and purpose, and a deeper longing for knowledge brings about a spiritual crises in even the most devoted of Christians. We have a natural longing to touch something that can transcend human restriction and release our fears. We long to hope and dream, to be devoted to something that is greater than ourselves. We need to be responsible for what we create in life, to discover the great power of our spirits, and live in service to all of life. We desire to act and think through wisdom, in the knowledge that religion is a group experience and spirituality is an individual experience. Akin to the last rites/extreme junction of the catholic church we need to come back to nothingness before we find everything. Where we realize that there is no beginning and no end, release our regrets, complete our unfinished business, and recall our souls. We must live in the present moment and know that we are part of the Divine. I honor the Divine within me and seek to understand and learn from my life experiences. I cherish my spirit and listen to the wisdom of the universe as I seek experiences that nourish my soul. I trust my intuition, let go of attachments, love and accept myself, and move in grace. I am grateful for all of the goodness in my life. I am at peace.
What are you praying for?
"God is love, and he who is in love is in God and God in him."
-Meister Eckhart
I don't particularly feel like being inspirational today, in fact I might even want to just sit here and be a little indolent. And I think that's okay. My brain is tired from learning and growing, and my body is exhausted from the work. The results that I am constantly striving to achieve seem daunting at times, and right now is no exception. I am at a place where the road I am on has many turns in the path that beg to be traveled. I feel the need to tour every trail, to see it all, to know it all...but for right now I am weary. I will sit here and rest for a while, and I will not feel guilty about it. I know that the clouds will rain again and the sun will continue to shine and nourish, but I cannot keep chasing the wind for the roots that wish to grow to this spot. The earth beneath me right this moment is what I need in order to strengthen my core, and this moment is all there is. One day I will get up and continue down one of the many winding paths before me and I will be grateful for the opportunity to journey. But right now I am thankful for the shade and repose. Rest, relaxation, inactivity, slumber, quiet, calm, tranquility, composure, serenity, PEACE. Life moves so quickly that we feel we must keep up. There are times to wake and work to be done and meals to be eaten and items to be cleaned, people to care for. But right now I need to care for me. I need to NOT move as quickly as my environment. I need to sit with my legs crossed and look above the swirling chaos of life to stare at the still stars and constant moon. Once I slow down to a zero pace I can see how busy even the earth is. Clouds blow by, birds sing and flit, ants toil away, and even squirrels busy themselves with the gathering of what they probably don't need. At an even slower pace than that I can begin to see the energy emanating from a slowly reaching tree, the flower lifting its face towards the warm sun, and the rock as it breathes and bathes in its environment. I must lay here, like a stone, and just watch. Observe, view, gaze, contemplate, survey, regard, behold, and study until my mind is full and my head is tired. Then I will breathe in and close my eyes to allow myself to be nothing but a thing existing. Once I am only that, only being right there right then, then I know I have arrived. When I am thoroughly rested I will once more pick up and start out on my travels. The journey ahead may still appear ominous, even disconcerting, but the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.
Why rush?
Confession, relating to the sacrament of penance and the energy of the fifth chakra, is the call to action in the fifth step of our healing pilgrimage. This step asks that we admit to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. Telling on ourselves is never easy, but as we look closer at the order of this step we can learn to honor it, and so honor ourselves. When we have harmed someone we should first admit to our higher power that we were wrong. This helps us to have a change of heart, a moment of reflection to look at what we've done and make the decision to make it right. This is so important because we have to make the DECISION and set our INTENTION in a place of reconciliation before any further healing can begin. Often I hear people go ahead and apologize to another person who is angry with them without meditating on it first, and it often comes off as a half-hearted attempt to simply pacify the angry person. In order to make a true heart-felt apology we need to take the time to actually realize HOW and WHY we were wrong and practice the atonement process with our higher power.
After we ruminate on our actions, then we move on to admitting to ourselves what we did. This is my favorite part of this step, because after beating myself up for days or weeks or years over mistakes that I've made, I get to suddenly realize that I CAN FORGIVE MYSELF! My God forgives as instantly as I do wrong, but I'm the one who really needs the convincing to forgive myself for my wrong doing, and once that's done everything else looks a little easier and brighter. The final part of this step is admitting to someone else what I did wrong, which is really the hard part. We don't necessarily have to confront the person that we've harmed yet, but we should tell a friend or sponsor about the harmful thing we did, if only to get the situation out of the mental realm and into the physical field where we can see it a little more clearly. I often will talk to my partner about how I'm feeling and admit my guilt to him first, then bring myself to the person who I feel I hurt. This is the part that makes my heart beat faster and my palms feel hot with anticipation, but the longer I wait to talk to the person I harmed after I've made the conscious decision that I need to, then the heavier the weight upon my chest feels about the prospect. The important thing for me to remember about this is that I'm not asking them for forgiveness; I've already been forgiven by God and myself. What I'm doing is simply telling them that I was wrong, that I shouldn't have done or said what I did, and in so doing I am releasing negativity within myself and calling a piece of my soul back to me as I finish that business. The other person can choose to forgive me at that point or to continue to hold a grudge, that is only their choice, and one that affects their health alone.
It isn't easy telling people that we were wrong, but it is such an important step to take towards the maturity of our souls. The Vishuddha energy center located in our throats directly relates to communication and the will. It seems defeating to give up control and let our pride fall away, but I've learned that there is nothing on this earth more freeing than setting down my burdens and opening the baggage. We've carried that load for so long that it seems a part of who we are, almost to the point where we don't always remember the stink and weight of what we're carrying. But once we stop, throw down our bags, open the top and let it all out everything changes. It seems messy at first, maybe even scary, but once we look it in the eye and let it go we can keep walking without that weight dragging us down. Shamanic societies believe in "soul retrieval", or recovering the pieces of ourselves to make us whole and heal from within. They teach us that whenever we suffer an emotional or physical trauma that a piece of our soul fragments to flee the pain. Likewise, whenever we do harm we leave a piece of ourselves within the spiritual realm of unfinished business. Admission, confession, declaration brings about revelation, mending, and the much longed for transformation.
What will you confess to yourself?
"Once you forgive yourself, the self-rejection in your mind is over. Self-acceptance begins, and the self-love will grow so strong that you will finally accept yourself just the way you are. That's the beginning of the free human. Forgiveness is the key." -Don Miguel Ruiz
"Fear is the heart of love," I swayed as she sang along to her husband strumming his guitar, "so I never went back..." a sad line to croon, but later that day I thought it to be true. An argument between my own partner and I led to a hurtful exchange of words that left me sitting with a deep pain in my chest. I quietly realized that the pain was wrenching in the area of my heart as I thought about the words that hurt me, but as I turned everything over in my brain I noticed that the pain began to move. My segmented thoughts grew into sentences and unspoken retaliations that pushed the pain up into my throat. I felt choked on the words that I wasn't speaking, and the more I suppressed my distress the more resentment seemed to build. As the animosity grew and settled, the pain slowly fell into my bellybutton where my energy is affected by my relationships. Of course my husband and I worked things out within minutes, but I felt that I suddenly understood myself a little better because of this interchange. Our thoughts, words, and actions (or lack thereof) can either empower us or suck the life energy straight from our bodies. Why did I continue negative thought patterns and self-harming belief systems? Fear. Jealousy, bitterness, anger, hatred, and the inability to forgive grow directly out of anxiety, crippling our hearts to its true purpose in the divine intention of our lives. Lucky for us that love, compassion, confidence, hope, forgiveness, dedication, inspiration, trust, and the ability to heal can pour forth from our hearts to endlessly nurture our life force.
The heart is the energy center that separates the physical from the spiritual. The lower three chakras are based in physical, emotional, and mental aspects of the somatic realm, whereas the higher three chakras are based in the spiritual realm. The heart is the transforming agent between the higher and lower worlds- isn't that beautiful? In order for the spiritual to become physical it must pass through the heart, and in order for the physical to become spiritual the heart must transform it. Love is the power of the divine. Love goes beyond the sacrament of marriage, it is the internal union of the self and the soul, the true motivator of the human body and spirit. Unconditional love, love in its purest form, is what gives us the ability to forgive others, ourselves, and fuel inner peace as we release the need to evoke justice and trust in the divine plan. To embrace our pure power we must have the courage to listen to our hearts emotional messages and inner instructions. The "wounded child" is what Caroline Myss calls the damaged emotional patterns, negative attitudes, dysfunctional self-images, and painful memories that develop within us during our childhoods. She believes that a child who fears abandonment can become a jealous adult, a sexually abused minor can grow into a sexually dysfunctional grown-up, and a negative self-image can turn a healthy person into an alcoholic, bulimic, or anorexic. Loving ourselves means letting go of that wounded child's authority over us and rocking our emotions until the tears stop flowing. Someone who was abused many years ago can hurt themselves even more by reliving that abuse in their own minds every day of their lives until they are crippled from the pain of the memory. Self-love means forgiving others, because our wounds don't hurt the people who hurt us, they only hurt us. Our wounded child sees the world as working in a reward/punishment system, but a fully functioning Anahata moves past needing explanations and views life through fulfilling consciousness, not fear. The word Anahata translates from Sanskrit as "UNHURT", the spiritual place where past experiences and grievances cannot harm us. I will be fully open to giving and receiving love. I will instantly forgive, not only others, but myself as well. I love myself unconditionally. I love others unconditionally. Love is my guiding truth, my hearts desire, and my joy. I will live gratefully, because it is safe for me to love and be loved. I will have unconditional compassion for myself and others as I free myself from past hurts. For "we will all have experiences meant to 'break our hearts'- not in half but wide open."
Is your wounded child still crying?
As I travel through this life, from forest to river, oceans to mountain, I walk with purpose. I tread toward the end goal of spiritual awakening, the awareness of love and peace, a place of transcendental universal understanding. We all strive to be closer to Creator, even as we co-create our lives and situations to be in a place of strife or a haven of tranquility. As we journey through life we exercise the muscles of our body and strengthen them according to how we use them. Our arms are strengthened as we climb, our legs as we run, and our wisdom as we learn to trust our intuition and perceive truth. Ajna, our third eye, is the muscle that we use to unify ourselves with all of life. When we find this gateway we realize that we have always had the ability to stand in its blue and purple light and view the heart and soul of other living beings. The wisdom that hides behind this door is able to transcend a wisdom beyond speech, a knowing of truth where we can clearly see how the past effects the present and future, but not just the truths that seem to be, we can understand circumstance and situations for what they truly are. Mental and emotional clarity act as a balance for our masculine and feminine abilities as well as a rudder that steers us down the spiritual path of what is harmful or helpful to all of humanity. A swan stands guard at this beautiful portal to remind us that all may enter into the dwelling place of the master, but not all are able. Ajna is considered to be the master as it is associated with the pituitary gland in the brain. The pituitary gland controls the hormone function of all other glands in the endocrine system, regulating such hormones as Thyroid Stimulating Hormone, Follicle-Stimulating Hormone, Prolactin, Growth Hormone, Vasopressin, and Oxytocin to name a few. Symbolically we can see how being able to understand all things for what they truly are in the past, present, and future simultaneously gives us a full body, mind, and soul connection to happiness and neutrality. Ajna is a point of balance, where there is no positive or negative, love or hate. The granter of knowledge lives across this gateway, allocating erudition to those fearless few who are able to detach themselves from physical earth and unlink the need for a desired result. All of the elements, in their purest form, reside in this place to gift those who travel in imagination and super-consciousness with the realization that time and space are not linearly real. All can be accomplished through penetrating intuition since living in this state of cosmic knowledge takes on personal meaning and purpose. Swami Kedarnath felt that once he awakened to this Ajna state that he no longer simply knew truth, but he became truth. This philosophy essentially states that the death of ego is the life of the soul, meaning that once we let our masks fall our real selves can appear. When we allow our consciousness to relax and focus our minds, we find that we can see beyond the distractions and illusions that stand before us and have greater insight to live and create more deeply in alignment with our highest good. I will remind myself that I am visceral and I trust my intuition. I rely on the guidance bestowed upon me through my spiritual gifts, and it is safe for me to follow this direction. I am my higher truths. I am clear. I know my own voice and I have a healthy mind. My calm and peaceful thoughts have unlimited possibilities. I can easily hear the voice of my soul as all of the answers are inside of me. I am my spiritual truth and I am connected to my true path and purpose. I embrace vision and proudly stand guard at the gateway to the divine.
Which eye are you watching with?
"I have three eyes: two to look and one to see meaning." - Bellamor
In the fourth step of our life changing journey we will make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. That sounds pretty self-damning when we say it that way. A lot of us are recovering drug addicts, alcoholics, or may simply be working these steps as a means of emotional support and healing, so what good does it do to beat ourselves up with our own mistakes over and over again? We must realize that this step of healing is about ripping off the band-aid, and it is the beginning of the deep wading through our murky souls. Why did we turn to drugs to begin with? Why do we hurt inside? Why are we sad on happy days? Why do we cry when nothing is outwardly wrong? We've spent our whole lives until this moment blinding ourselves to what hurts our hearts, trying not to feel that pain anymore. For people who grew up in a rough environment it was a means of survival, for adults who went through trauma it was a way to protect themselves. Aren't we tired of blindly stumbling through life with our stone walls and high towers? Yes, they have protected us in the past, but those same walls have also kept us in, kept us from growing into who we were meant to be. The lack of sunshine beneath our self-made cement prison has stunted our spiritual and emotional growth without allowing us the much needed oxygen and nutrients to actually heal from what hurt us in the first place. We turn to outside means to make us feel better because we never actually healed; we never moved on even though we ignored and pushed down that pain over and over again. The only way to truly move on from our secret pain is to admit that our pain is really there and allow ourselves to FEEL it. This step was critical in my healing process, and "The Pig on My Porch" is based on my journey and inspired by this step. I began with writing about the first memory that I had deep within my psyche. I was reminded of childhood play, secret desires, my shortcomings, hidden disappointments, and then as I grew I came to chapters that were a little harder to get through. I wrote about the death of my mother, my sexual abuse, low self-esteem and mental health, domestic violence, and addiction. I let one hurtful memory after another build chapter upon chapter until I had written hundreds of pages. An amazing thing began to happen as I forced myself to recall every outstanding personal experience- by the end of each chapter I was able to look at my memories with clear eyes. I was able to relive each recollection and feel those feelings in a way that respected my younger self, but with an adults mind and a fresh perspective. By the end of my book I was finally able to see things the way that they really were, not just for me, but for everyone involved. By the time I had transcribed all of my thoughts and emotions onto the once blank pages and placed that final period, I was able to do the most miraculous thing: UNDERSTAND and FORGIVE. I had to look at my deepest secrets, my worst pain, feel it, sit in it, and then let it go. Maybe a lot of what happened to us in our lives hadn't been our fault, we were the victims, the hurt ones. But by pushing down our pain and ignoring what our soul is telling us is wrong we somehow become someone that we don't recognize. We go from the victim to the culprit without realizing it, because we go to extraordinary measures to stop feeling what hurts. It's time to look directly into that black pool of torment and calm the storm. It's okay to let ourselves feel the pain that we've been running from, because only then can we transform from the wounded to the liberated.
What are you hiding from?
Sciamachy
(n.) A battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow
Every now and then I stumble across someone who seems to legitimately not care about women's rights. I can ALMOST see how an uninformed type male wouldn't understand the struggle and pressures of being born a female (or a male that identifies as female), but what really gets me is when a woman doesn't care. I understand that feminism is MY passion, but how could any woman truly feel unaffected by the women's movement? How could any female not feel ecstatically proud of how far we've come? The only answer I can conceive is that we have done our job. If a young girl has truly never felt discriminated against, looked down on, treated as lesser or dumber or weaker, then thank the goddesses that all of their hard work has paid off! For those of you who are unaffected by the sweat, fear, and pain of our sister suffragettes, let me enlighten you. For those who have never been passed over for a job position or told to return for a business deal when you can bring your husband to assist you, to those who have never been whistled at like cattle in a roundup or been told that their place was in the home, let me fill you in on what's been happening outside of your little bubble. On August 26, 1920, the 19th amendment was ratified. This amendment finally gave American women the right to vote after a nearly 100 year long fight. 100 years! It took an entire century to convince the government that women should have the same rights as a man! During this time reform groups began multiplying all over the United States- temperance leagues, religious movements, moral-reform societies, anti-slavery organizations- ultimately leading up to the redefinition of the noun "woman". We get to live a comparatively comfortable life, whether or not we choose to pay homage to a legacy that over seven generations of women toiled to achieve through meetings, petition drives, lobbying, public speaking, and nonviolent resistance. We no longer have to marry and bear heirs in order to be taken care of; we don't have to be subservient and obedient maids. We get to vote, work a fulfilling job with the right to equal pay and we get to keep that job legally when we become pregnant. Our husbands do not own us, get to beat us, or take sex whenever they choose. WE choose to become doctors, lawyers, ministers, astronauts, to own property, to own a credit card, to fight on the front lines. WE CHOOSE to have bank accounts, serve on a jury, take birth control, wear practical bathing suits, go to college, breastfeed in public, or run the Boston marathon. Watching the Olympics was a crime for women, punishable by death (!), for the ancient Greeks. Women in New York City were banned from smoking cigarettes in public until 1908 because it was considered unbecoming. English women were disallowed to play in soccer matches until 1971 because the game was declared unsuitable for the female body. To this day it is supposedly still LEGAL for a man to beat his wife in South Carolina, as long as it takes place on the courthouse steps on a Sunday. The town of Owensboro, KY has a law that prohibits women from purchasing hats without her husbands consent. It's still illegal (though unenforced) for women in California to wear a housecoat while driving, and the city of Logan, Utah prohibits women from swearing. All of these ridiculous grievances aside, women who reside in countries other than our own are still being treated as less valuable than men, and in some cases less valuable than animals. Saudi women were banned from operating vehicles until June of 2018. In Yemen women are only considered to be half of a witness when testifying in court, and they aren't allowed to testify at all in cases of adultery or sodomy. In Morocco if a woman is raped then she faces charges for leaving her home without a male escort, and in this most recent case a sixteen year old girl committed suicide after a judge sentenced her to marry her rapist. What happened on the planet earth where this sort of gross mistreatment is considered normal? Where is the disconnect in our brains that makes women seem less important, less worthy, anything less than magical? We are the strong, the passionate, the indestructible, the indomitable. We birth this earth.
Any more questions?
“That woman has too long rested satisfied in the circumscribed limits which corrupt customs and a perverted application of the Scriptures have marked out for her, and that it is time she should move in the enlarged sphere which her great Creator has assigned her.”
(Photo by Chris Ware/Keystone Features/Getty Images)
"September 1953: Twenty-one year old Alice Penfold, a professional strong woman from Bury, near Pulborough, Sussex, flexes her biceps. She can tear telephone directories in half and lift a 146 lb woman with her teeth."
- Flashbak
Manipura, located in the upper abdomen, is the very core of our feminine mystique. The fires that burn from our bellies bring forth into the world our mental abilities, intellect, and confidence. From these flames spit our personal power, identity, and confidence. A woman who can make decisions, clear judgments, and assert her opinions and beliefs is a woman with a well balanced solar plexus chakra. It's difficult, especially for a person still healing, to exert bravery and stand up for themselves. We must learn to tame our inner fires so as not to misuse our power or let our ambition abuse those around us, but we must also learn to fan the flames within us in order to take control of our own lives and feel the independence that we so longingly strive for.
In Sanskrit this word means "shining gem", which is very becoming considering the way that life's pressures squeeze us until we either turn to diamonds or dust. To better understand Manipura, we must first look at the element that represents it. When thinking of fire I think of the weakest, yet most unyielding, of the elements. Fire is lovely to look at, beautiful, enchanting. It draws us in and has a mystical allure that can't quite be explained. Fire brings warmth, color, and even fun as it dances in a way that seems to say, "I can't be tamed." When out of control a fire can scorch the earth and consume everything in its path, but when stifled the fire can be easily put out by every other element. Air, water, and earth can all suffocate a hesitant flame with ease, but fire needs and craves all of the other elements in order to exist. Fire needs the air in order to burn, the earth to contain it, and the water to temper it. In this same respect, our personalities can display this imbalance as excessive control or helplessness, obsession or irresponsibility, intolerance or overindulgence, insecurity, fear, lack of confidence or low self-esteem. A balanced Manipura allows us the much needed control over our thoughts and emotions to help us set healthy boundaries.
Anytime we must fight within ourselves to muster up the courage to conquer a fear, or when we struggle to speak up for ourselves, or whenever we simply have to employ self-control in a situation, we are activating and exercising our solar plexus chakra. We must learn to utilize this energy force for our own sake, to fulfill our own personal power. We need to know that we have the means to tap into self-assurance, self-discipline, and to move forward in confidence anytime we get the courage to reach inside of ourselves and let our yellow fire shine through. Fire has the ability to hurt others, but it also can take other elements and transform them into more than their original selves. Through the flames water can become air, air can become water, and earth can become glass. Personal power does not mean that we have the ability to manipulate others, it means that we have the potential to master ourselves, and that vital capability to choose is the softly spoken message of the Manipura. We can overcome any fear, conquer any demon, and demand the respect that we deserve. I will not judge or criticize myself any longer, but instead I will choose to seek out and live my life purpose. I will light Manipura as a torch held high and let its light guide me to love and accept myself, to stand up for myself, and to be strong and courageous. It will remind me that I am worthy of love, kindness, and respect. Its blaze will awaken in me the ability to choose what is best for myself and express myself in a powerful way. Its warmth will keep strong the ambition to direct my own life and my power to choose. I am free in any situation. I feel my own power, and I am at peace within myself.
What burns within you?
"Until you've found the fire inside yourself you won't reach the spring of life."
- Rumi
I walked through my life with my head down, just trying to get through. I finally stumbled upon a cobblestone path where I was forced to look up and observe the scenery. I quite suddenly realized that I had not been paying attention to the people in my life, and things were somehow different than before. I found a shaded spot beneath a willow tree and decided to stay for a while. I had journeyed far, and had visited many places. Some places I came to had been beautiful and lovely, leaving an imprint on my heart forever. Other places were dark and frightening, leaving a scar in the place of the untouched map of skin that once was there. As I sat, I pondered my journeys and allowed them to change my thoughts. I welcomed the sorrow and the joy alike, but couldn't help but wonder why I had been so absorbed with my own journey that I had forgotten to ask you how yours had been. You've been on a journey also, as we all are, and we both ended up back on the same cobblestone street. You on one side, and me on the other. I sit beneath the willow branches and absorb the suns heat from the brown dirt beneath my legs, and you lay on feathers across the way anxiously awaiting. For what? I don't know. I ask you about your travels, and you seem unimpressed with them as you shrug a shoulder and try to close your eyes to the chaos in your mind. I can see it now. The beautiful storm that surrounds your brain swirls endlessly with needs. The storm needs attention, and you are tired from the weight. I rise from my dirt patch and tread closer to your bed of feathers, squinting through the wind of your storm to see if I can retrace your footprints. I follow them back down the cobblestone street, one small foot after another, until they turn down a dark and shadowy path. The trees here are dense and familiar. Owls query and ravens cry with each step that I take. I press on because I need to know where you have been; I must understand this storm that surrounds you in your beautiful bed of feathers and gold. The forest air chills, sending goosebumps up my arms and down my spine. I hold myself for warmth and shrug further on. Deeper and deeper into the trees I go, and just when I am beginning to think that I may never make it through, I see rays of sunlight stretching their arms towards me. I hasten nearer to the iridescent fingers of warmth and step out into a meadow of red dirt and kudzu. Catfish swim through the clouds, gulping down birds along their way to the waterfalls of vines. Stray dogs and broken bottles litter the earth where abandoned teepees stand torn. I hear a growl behind me that sends me into a hard run. I push my legs to run faster and not give out as my breath comes in ragged gasps and the skin of my feet is torn by the jagged edges of hundred year old arrowheads. I can hear the heavy fall of the beasts paws as they strike the ground directly behind my heels, the snarling teeth never letting up, spittle splashing against my hurried calves. My sides ache and my eyes blur with fearful tears. My toes hit something hard in the clay, causing my body to tumble forward. As I fall, time seems to suspend itself and I can see the scenery begin to change. The rabid dog drifts farther away, the sun lowers across the horizon, and stars pop from the fishes mustached mouths. A giant ocean wave rises up as high as the horizon and crashes down before me, slowly creeping its way up to lick at my fingers as I hold my upper body up from the sand. Exhausted, I let my face fall to the damp beach as I pant to catch my still gone breath. As I begin to relax, I open my eyes and see another footprint directly beneath the spotlight of the moon. Pulling myself up from the beach, I dust off my legs and slowly make my way to examine the etching in the shoreline. A soft song eerily drifts up from the surf, beckoning me to try the footprint on for size. Unsure, I lift my foot and place it directly into the outline that lay in the sand. Tears spring to my eyes as I realize that I had been following my own footprints the whole time. I bend over from the weight of my heart, the salt falling from my cheeks to mix with the tresses of the ocean. The water pools inside of my footprint in an odd way, much like a tide pool within a tide pool. I lean in and look closely to discern that there is another, smaller, footprint within my own. Full of shock, I turn and race back up the dunes towards the red dirt. I gulp in the thick air as I run once more from the monsters that chase me. Past the snarling dog, dodging the broken glass, leaping from the swooping crows, and stumbling back up the cobblestone path towards your familiar form. "Why did you follow me?" I cried breathlessly. I had never seen our paths cross while you grew and I went out on my own journey, because you had stepped in each footprint that I had left along the way. You look up sleepily from your golden feather bed and whisper, "You are my duality and my mirror." Your eyes immediately flutter back to close and I can hear your rhythmic breath falling softly upon the ground. Feeling heavy and defeated, I drag my feet across the street and sit once more beneath my willow tree. Hot tears continue to fall, making mud beneath my legs. All this time I thought that I had left you in a safe place while I cast shadows and fought monsters. But you had been behind me the whole time, treading on my shadow, blindly following me and having to fight the beasts of my journey as your own. Unsure where we will go from here, I drop my head and whisper, "I could never judge you; I know you. But taming this storm will be the hardest thing you've ever done, and the greatest achievement of your life."
Who's walking in your footsteps?
"Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us."
- Samuel Smiles
Silence is a phenomenon that does not truly exist. When we are alone, quiet, at rest, we can feel that void as a heavy cloud weighing and pressing down on us. But the reality is that we are never alone and the earth is never silent. When the chaos of the day turns into a cool night, and the chatter of the humans we share this planet with subsides, that is when the earth is able to reach out and beckon our ears to the place where the music truly lingers. The song of the wind calls us to hearken as the leaves and branches of the trees it blows invite us to come sit and listen for a while. In the starlight the cicadas and crickets charm us into a dance of sacred steps that can only be known to the dancer who reaches deep within to remember the soul movement that was understood exclusively by those who once resided among awareness. There is an emotional untethering, a mental and even physical release that gushes from deep in our hearts when we close our eyes and recall that ancient music that lives within us all. It is a song of primordial consciousness, a freedom that exists only when we forget our mortal bodies and weave a tale too complex to be spoken with language. It is a legend too powerful to be seen with human eyes and too essential to be understood by physical senses. The song that we feel inside of our hearts, the dance that we release from the bottom of our souls, is a force that can't be written, spoken, or rationalized. There is a reason that music makes a party, that love is expressed lyrically, worship is sung into the heavens, that we meditate and journey to the rhythm of the drum. Ideas much too deep and important to be told plainly are crooned and strummed into earthly existence, flowing from our inner worlds of spiritual depths. Emotions are expressed in a way that only song can convey and only dance can appease. Music is a therapy, an urge, a desperate longing, a sacred calling, a means of transformation for the hybrid divine. The oldest instrument known to man is the flute. Made from bird bones and mammoth ivory, the flute was played at night while tribes sang and danced round a fire of heat and passion. Alone, or surrounded by like-hearted kindred, let the music connect you with the earth and all that is in realms that cannot be seen. The drum is the intoxicating heartbeat and our voices rise to mingle with the neural pathways of the heavens. As we let our limbs twist and wind through the celestial ether, blood pounding in time with natures pulse, our feet drumming the earth and sending shoots of roots into the under-realms of space, we can clearly see why we smile. Our hearts quicken and our ears prick up to the sound of a tune we can grasp onto and our faces smile when we realize that the song in you is the song in me, because it is the joy of the earth and the secrets of God.
What is your soul dancing to?
I'm stubborn, that's obvious, and I'll admit that fact freely. I've never been one to wave my white flag or give up easily, so when I'm told that the only way to truly heal is to surrender my life, my mind goes wild. My chest immediately fills with pride and I feel the protective stone walls of my ego building higher and higher to block out the advice that I don't want to hear. Yield, relent, back down, cave in, concede, acquiesce, fall, resign... these are words that I naturally fight against on a daily basis. These are also the very verbs that I need to learn from in order to take the next step forward. The third step is to make the decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand Him. It took me four years to work past this step, but the funny thing is that I never even knew that I was stuck on this part until after I was finally able to work it. I remember the first time that my rehab counselor looked at the group and explained that in step three we would have to rely on our Higher Power, the God of our understanding. Upon hearing those words I immediately stopped listening, thinking that step wasn't for me. I live in the bible belt; I've gone to church three times a week for my entire life. I thought to myself, "I already know who God is; I don't need to work this step." But years later when I still struggled with my guilt complex and realized that I was still wrestling with the same old crap, I suddenly knew that I NEVER actually knew who God was. I had never worked that step because I had no idea what it meant to trust the God OF MY UNDERSTANDING. I had been missing those key words the entire time. I thought that the God that my preacher had told me about was actually my God, but hell fire and the threat of eternal damnation hadn't helped my addiction or depression or self-esteem. What I really needed was to find MY God, the way that I understood Him, in the way that made ME feel loved. There is no way that any one person can teach about their God, how they perceive Him (or Her), and expect it to be true for EVERYONE listening. As a child I was told a lot of stories that didn't seem to make sense, and they didn't particularly make me feel safe the way they were intended to. But now that I am older I can decide what I believe and which parts are true to me. Religion is NOT what my God is about, it in fact has absolutely nothing to do with my Higher Power. Spirituality is everything. The God of my understanding is in me and around me and flows through every living thing on this planet. THAT is something that I can relax into and maybe decide to surrender to. I don't have to be perfect (in the way that religious leaders think perfection to be), but I know that I am perfectly made in the balance of nature and energy. I don't need an all-knowing being to judge every mistake I make and require me to throw myself into penance hoping for forgiveness and a fresh start. What I need is the God who knows that when I decide to ask for forgiveness for something that I need only to ask myself, because my God never did stop loving me for that awful thing that happened, I did. I am not interested in rules, requirements, or commands, but I desperately seek the approval of the one spiritual being who never loses respect for me, for I am everything that I was created to be. Once I am able to search within myself and find how I TRULY feel loved and who I feel humbled to worship, then I feel comfortable in surrendering myself. It's an honor to bow my head in reverence to the spiritual being that I DO understand, that DOES love me, and that I KNOW I can trust. And really, that's all this step truly requires.
What are you surrendering to?
Tree rings form through time, like years of life, weathering the storms and withstanding the elements that beat down upon its branches. Each new year that passes leaves a ring within the soul of that tree that carries the imprint of its existence for eternity. A year without rain leaves behind a ring thin and sickly, while a favorable growing season leaves behind a thick and rich ring. The inside of the tree trunk cannot be seen until the tree is cut in half, revealing the scars and stories of each year of its life. It is easy to see where the tree suffered in its surroundings and where it flourished through a season. We too, through each season of life, carry the imprints of our struggles and graces upon our souls. We are born a blank canvas and with each year that passes we emotionally grow a little and become weak, or we grow largely and heartily. But grow we must and it doesn't stop. And when our weather is bad we can wither on the inside. Take a trans-section of your heart and you can see every part of love and pain, every time you were hurt. What's harder to do is to look inside of ourselves and realize that a lot of our pain and stormy weather stemmed from lies. People have lied to you, they have lied to me, and we have believed them. When we were too loud or too wild people told us things about ourselves to make us easier for them to deal with, and we took that upon ourselves as truth. Each experience that we've had in our lives is what makes us who we are; each tree ring makes a whole tree. We listen to other people make us smaller and water us down until we can be deemed acceptable and appropriate, until we forget that we are wonderful the way we are. We forget to treat ourselves the way that we would treat someone that we love. If I pay attention to the way that I doubt and second-guess myself it's easy to see which lies from other people that I have believed, and still do believe, though I try to fight against the fear. I will try to recognize the untruths that have held me down for so long and empower myself by chanting my own powerful mantras in reassurance of my own strength and beauty.
Lie 1. Don't air your dirty laundry - The biggest problem that I find with being raised as a polite young lady is that we are taught not to talk about bad things. When bad things happen we keep them quiet and when people do wrong things we ignore it. We should be learning the opposite of that. If something bad happens to us we need to speak up immediately! And if someone does something wrong we should definitely say something. A loving relationship, whether within the family, among friends, or within the confines of self-love, tells us that we should always stand up for what we know is right and good. I will not make myself seem more appropriate for your pleasure. I am allowed to feel unhappy, especially if I am unhappy with the person in front of me.
Lie 2. You're not that kind of girl - I am whatever kind of girl I want to be. If that's a good girl, then I will do morally good things. Having natural and normal relations does not make me any "kind" of girl.
Lie 3. You should wear your hair down - I was told this a lot in school, to the point where I began thinking about what other people thought of my looks when I got ready in the mornings. So I wore my hair down to please the people who needed that of me, only for other people to tell me that they liked my hair up better. I will wear my hair, and my clothes, and my EVERYTHING exactly the way I want to.
Lie 4. You've changed - That's okay. Change is good. But I have found that, while this feels like a hurtful statement for someone to make about you at the time, the only people who usually use this statement do so because you're not giving them what they want. That's okay.
Lie 5. You're no fun - So shoot me. We all want to be the fun friend and have people rally to our sides because they like to be around us. But I will not compromise myself, my morals, or my wants and needs to make you happy with me. I do not need your approval that badly.
Lie 6. You look good, but... - Stop. Just stop. Don't judge me, don't compare me, don't tell me how I should change myself. I am me. I am perfect. I don't need to be different. I don't need more make-up or nicer clothes or even to brush my hair. I am myself, and that's all I need to be.
Lie 7. Ladies don't act like that - I am a lady, anatomically and mentally. However I act, whether I'm cussing or yelling or burping or playing football, HOWEVER I ACT I am still a lady. I do not have to be any certain way to define my gender.
Lie 8. Don't be selfish - Let's just be selfish sometimes. We get so lost in being not selfish that we forget to take care of ourselves. I'm a mother, giving all day and all night. Giving my time, energy, money, body, patience, my everything. Sometimes I need to just stop and take care of myself. Only then can I continue to lovingly and wholeheartedly care for my loved ones. And once again, I have found that many people who say these words say it as means of manipulation for personal gain. I will keep my boundaries, lovingly.
Lie 9. You're a handful - I will not water myself down. I will not make myself small enough to fit into the boxes that other people want to squeeze me into. When we are children people tell us these things and we feel that we are hard to handle. I have grown into an apologetic adult who feels guilty for being true to myself because other people may not like the unadulterated me. I am afraid that I cannot keep a partner, or that I will drive my loved ones away if I show people exactly who I am. I can't do that anymore. If they love me, we will coexist and we will handle each other. How else can we truly love someone? How can we love someone if we don't know who they are? How can we love someone 100% if they only show us 75%?
Lie 10. You're too sensitive - I will not apologize for feeling. The people of planet earth would greatly benefit from feeling their feelings, thinking about them honestly, working through them, and then sharing those thoughts and that healing process with others. I am sensitive. I feel. I am MEANT to feel. That was a gift given to me divinely.
People lie to us our whole lives. They may not even know that they are lying to us to make themselves feel better, to keep their own feelings safe. People may not realize how much of an impact their words and actions affect the people around them. I have scarred tree rings surrounding my heart from the hurtful fear of others, and I no doubt have withered other people through my own insecurity as well. I will begin to treat myself at the standard of care that I want others to treat me. I will not compromise, and I will continue to flourish and to grow. I will recognize the pain in others and try my best to nourish their roots, and I will allow them to rest in the shade of my branches while I breathe in the pain around me and breathe out understanding and love.
What lies do you believe?
“Peel me back. I don't want anyone to fall in love with whatever pretty lie that they may find above. No. I need someone to look beyond my flesh and see beneath my bones, and to fall in love with the beauty and filth of the raw mess that they find inside. So peel me back and see just how beautiful my tragedy can be.”
- Becca Lee
My cat is missing. She has been gone now for quite some time, but I still find myself calling her name at the back door before bed each night. I still catch my son walking to the shed after school each afternoon to check if any of her food has been eaten. It seems silly maybe, to care so much about a missing cat when there's so much hatred and foul play in the world. But I can't help it, she was mine. A neighbor of mine found her as a small kitten wandering the woods behind their house. She was no more than two pounds, her white and calico fur matted to her tiny body, her tail crooked halfway down from a break that healed incorrectly. My neighbor brought her to me because she feared that her dogs would kill the poor little thing before she'd had a chance to grow into the cat that she was to become. My son took to her instantly, carrying her around the house like a baby. He fashioned a tiny bed for the kitten using his stuffed dog's toy bed and a blanket, and pushed it up against his own bed where he could reach his slight hand down at night and feel her warm fur. Much to my amusement, he named the miniature cat Mittens, even though all of her legs and paws were white, much like she was NOT wearing mittens. She slept in his room for the first few weeks, never having to use her own legs because he would carry her up and down the stairs to bed. He fed her, played with her, and snuggled into her thick fur like she was his best friend in the whole world. And she loved him too, playfully chasing his heels while he got ready for school and sharing his pillow when she tired of her own bed. One early morning my son came running into my bedroom, panting and frantic, terror-filled tears dropping down his normally serene cheeks. When I calmed him enough to make out his words I discovered that the kittens tail had fallen off at the point where it had been broken before. A laugh suddenly burst from my chest at the thought of my dear son thinking that he had pulled his cats tail off. I explained to my puppy-eyed boy that her tail would have fallen off anyways and that he had done nothing wrong. He seemed to feel better, but I noticed that he moved her bed a little closer to the closet that night. After a few surgeries on her tail she was as good as new, and she became quite bobcat-like as she aged. Her belly and hips rounded out, her nails grew long and sharp, and her piercing green eyes seemed wise and knowing. Three months ago I could count seven cats that happily chose us to care for them and give them homes. Mittens was the only female, which worried me slightly at first, but I quickly noticed how the male cats seemed to take a wide berth to avoid her. She had grown to be the sassiest and strongest cat in the yard. A slap to the face was an expected occurrence for any poor male who got a little too close to Mittens' perfectly groomed coat. She didn't worry herself with people very often, ignoring me when I called for her and coyly walking away with a sway of her nubbed tail. But when my son bellowed for her she would react like a little kitten again. I could see her cheeky facade drop away as she mewed to him and raced to reach her food bowl before he could get there to fill it. Yes, Mittens was more than a cat. She was a family member, a friend, a being with feelings and a soul, a memory. The last time I remember seeing her was on a Thursday night. I came into the kitchen after laying the baby down and looked through the window while I rinsed out his bottle. Mittens was sitting primly, with her front paws perfectly together, beneath a beam of moonlight. She seemed to be staring straight at me from across the yard. I immediately felt a stabbing pain of sadness. I was unsure of why, maybe I felt guilty that I did not invite her inside so late at night, or maybe something inside me knew that would be the last time I would ever look upon her sapient face. I turned my gaze away from her ghostly form and continued with my nighttime routine, pushing her image from my brain. By morning she was gone. I have searched the woods behind the house, calling her name for hours and even braving the neighbors to ask if they'd seen her. I still half expect to find her sleeping beneath a bush somewhere, ignoring my call like usual. But the haunting fear that I could stumble upon her hurt or dead little body keeps me searching invariably and disturbs my sleep at night. I need to know she's safe somewhere, not in pain or afraid. Maybe this is the way of the world, but I can't help but feel that a part of my family is missing. Mittens, I will keep vigil for your return, or await the day when I will meet your bodiless soul in the meadow where we will cross the Rainbow Bridge together.
Who are you missing?
Fight or flight, natural survival instincts, the need to feel safe, these are all basic human rights and visceral urges. Safety seems like such a fundamental and common thing to feel, but forty percent of all adults suffer from anxiety disorders, only ten percent of which get effectual help. Once more, we can look into ourselves and see the imbalance. The imbalance with no particular cause or cure, just a person who is either overactive or underactive at their root. Muladhara can be broken into two words: Mula, which means root, and Dhara, which translates from Sanskrit as support. Located at the base of the spine, this energy center in the body is where we store our sense of safety and security throughout our earthly journey. This is our foundation, our grounding place, the firm soil and stable base from which all of our other chakras stem and flow. If this tender ground is uprooted then all of the branches and leaves above will shake and quiver from the instability of the movement. The clearing of every chakra is important for happiness and the achievement of enlightenment, regardless of whether the pain stems from sexual trauma, feelings of not being good enough, a broken heart, a hidden voice, inability to trust, or disbelief in the divine, because all of these energy points are connected. Think of your body as a spiritual energy conduit of the celestial. The life force penetrates through the crown and must travel through each chakra before exiting at the root, meaning that a root issue can back up into an entire body problem. A solid bedrock provides us the stability needed to create a home filled with joy and the banishment of anxiety, fear, and nightmares. Grounding, also called earthing, is a way to plug our physical bodies into the spiritual earth and balance out our energy. Nervous disorders abound with an overactive Muladhara because it is our survival center, our animal nature, our instinctual responses, our fearful need to continue to exist. Fear is healthy for survival in some cases, but a balance is always needed for peace. Sometimes, especially for survivors, it's difficult to trust that the world will give us what we need in order to endure, but connection to our higher self and trusting in a power greater than ourselves can help us feel safe. Whether you call it Consciousness, Mother Nature, God, The Great Spirit, or your Higher Power, trust in the divine the way that a deer trusts that she will find food and watch as your stability and peace begin to grow. The energy of the root allows us to harness our inner courage, resourcefulness, and the will to survive when we are going through tough times, but this base chakra also carries our ancestral memories, connecting us with the spiritual challenges and triumphs of our predecessors. Memories of war, famine, disease, natural disasters, and abuse are all imprinted and passed down through the generations, weaving painful patterns and fearful framework. When unbalanced there may be more problems to arise than just panic disorders and trust issues, this divergence can lead to physical troubles like eating disorders, bladder and elimination issues, back and leg pain, and ovarian cysts. Basic needs such as food, water, shelter, and physical safety are not the only things needed to be happy in life; our emotional needs must also be met. We must learn to let go of fear and focus our spiritual connections by nurturing the soul and meditating on our spirit guides. As we pursue the bonding of our human experience with the earths energy we can relax as we begin to worry less, feel peace, and develop a sense of accomplishment. People will notice how we begin to reach out to others through acts of kindness and compassion once we feel safe on the inside. We are all animals fighting that basic instinct to survive, but even the animals know that they are a part of the earth and that there is no need to worry. We must eat when we are hungry, sleep when we are tired, and flow with the energy of the world as if harmony could keep us centered to the core of all that is. I will tell myself that I am deeply rooted, that I am safe, that I have a right to be here, that I stand for my values and my truth and for justice, that I have what I need, and that I am here standing on my own two feet. I will nurture my body with exercise and relaxation, be open to new possibilities, and trust in the goodness of life. I must be grateful for the challenges that help me grow and transform. I must make choices that are good for me, and I must trust myself. I must love life.
What's your primal root roaring for?
Some days I find myself rushing through my life with purpose and drive. I know where I'm headed and what step to take next to get where I'm going to be. Other days I find myself struggling just to get from one moment to the next. Some days I am strong and full of life, ready for new experiences. Other days I find it hard to breathe just thinking about the fact that I'll have to go somewhere unfamiliar and be around other people. I have been free of my abuser for over fourteen years now, and most days I think nothing of my past. But some days I find myself smiling a little slower, my heart a little heavier, and my mouth a little quieter. Some days I still flinch as the sun glints off of a belt buckle worn by a random passerby, and my heart skips a few beats at the sound of a raised voice. Some days I find myself memorizing the make, model, and license plate of the car driving in front of me. Not because I have a great memory, but because I subconsciously think that they may be on the way to commit a crime, or maybe they have a girl in their trunk who's fighting to get out and I'll have to testify in court one day. For some people it may appear that I'm having irrational thoughts, but for me those thoughts were once a very real part of my everyday life. Some days I know that I'm doing my best, but other days I need a helping hand. Some days I find myself asking my son if he feels safe, if he has everything that he needs, and if he knows that I love him. Some days I find myself looking for problems that aren't real in my marriage, because it's hard for me to trust that my partner doesn't secretly want to hurt me. Some days I don't care how I look because I think that I can finally be comfortable with who I am. Other days I find myself staring blankly at my skin, remembering the blood that once trickled through the little blonde hairs. I often smile freely and dance without restraint whenever given the opportunity, but some days I find myself struggling to feel free and wondering if I'll always carry this pain. Some days I find myself wishing that things in my life had gone very differently for my younger self, but other days I run my fingers over my scars and know that I am perfect. I will never personally thank my abuser for the suffering that he caused; the shattering of my body and my mind. But some days I find myself thanking the spiritual forces that be for bringing me to a place of continual healing. I have a story, one that many other people have as well. Every person on earth is on their own journey; no one can truly save anyone else. Each person must walk their own path and choose their own healing. While I sometimes sit in the sun and bask in the fun of the lighthearted and the unscathed, I often find myself curled up in the shade feeling every emotion and having to fight against each stray thought. This is what makes it worth all of the pain. Because the people who need help are not the ones out dancing in the sun, they're the ones hiding in the corner shadows. I may not ever truly be able to pick someone up and carry them back into the light, or lay my hand on their wounds and heal them, but I can rest well at night knowing that, if only for a few moments, I stood in the shadows with those hurting people and held their hearts within my own.
Where do you find yourself?
On July 2, 1776, congress voted to adopt the Declaration of Independence which declared the thirteen established colonies on American soil to have sovereign freedom from the powerful hold of Great Britain. This handcrafted document was more than just a demand for freedom, it was a bold and empowering stride for all the people who had been at war with King George III for their natural and legal rights, embracing their right to revolution. A natural right is a persons right to be happy, seek peace, worship the god of their own choosing, hold to their morality, and what we often have heard described as the right to life and liberty. These particular rights are nonnegotiable and inalienable, unable to be taken from us by any man. A legal right is defined as a claim that is recognized and protected by sanctions of the law that enables or imposes some transaction, course of conduct, or the infringement of the state to provide a just remedy within its court system. Of all the rights recognized by our founding fathers, the one that I hold the most pride in is the right of revolution. Given that we are human beings under the rule of other fallible human beings, we have the privilege and the duty to overthrow a government that acts against the common interest of its people or threatens the safety of the people without cause. Let us never forget that our leaders do not have absolute dominance over us, but rather our leaders have an obligation to the people. Equitable rulers should take pride in the joy of their people and make wise decisions that bring about peace for all.
Standing back to watch all of the political chaos and drama has allowed me the opportunity to take on a fresh perspective of what is happening in America right now. I have decided that the separation between church and state that Thomas Jefferson wrote about to the Danbury Baptists, and James Madison outlined in the First Amendment, is an unfortunate necessity. I know that the law was made in order to protect our religious freedom, but I choose to respect this law because I do not believe that lawmakers or law enforcers can be completely moral people. Strong words, but maybe true? Times like these divide the people into two groups: the lawmakers/enforcers and the rebel activists. Times likes these help a person decide what they care about most: upholding the law of their land or preserving their soul through acts of morality. A lawmaker/enforcer will follow blindly, see in black and white, and punish according to the statutes set by their superiors. A rebel activist will not follow where there is already a paved road, they see many gray areas where compassion and understanding are deserved, and punishment is not always considered justice. Both of these types of people may be required in order to make a country into a governed territory, but perhaps only one of these types of people are needed to create a peaceful lifestyle. There was once a spiritual leader who served the masses and taught nothing but love and forgiveness, compassion and higher existence. He cared not for the laws of man, following only the compass of his own heart. To test his brand of justice, the lawmakers of the time brought a woman before the teacher who had broken the law and her offense was punishable by death. The rebel activist answered them by saying, "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her." He was a radical law-breaker; unconcerned and uninterested in the politics and rules that bound society, and eventually he was put to death for his profound teachings that led the world in an entirely new direction.
From a historical viewpoint, we are a nation made entirely of immigrants. The British were the first to travel and permanently settle in America back in the 1600's, followed by the Africans (against their will), and then later the Dutch, Germans, Swedes, Finns, and Irish. In the 1500's Spain established a few ports in Florida, founded San Juan and Santa Fe, and eventually San Antonio was settled by Canary Islanders in 1731. By the 1800's California, Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico was covered with these settlements. The French arrived in the 17th century to form Louisiana, Saint Louis, and parts of Michigan, Illinois, and Missouri. The Canadians started migrating south and the Mexicans started traveling north. Between 1841 and 1850 alone nearly 1,715,000 immigrants came to America to escape famine, poverty, religious persecution, and death. Between 1820 and 1930 thirteen MILLION people came over from Britain, Germany, and Ireland to escape the Great Famine, and after the year 1880 nearly twenty-five MILLION Europeans came to America including the Italians, Greeks, Hungarians, Poles, and close to four million Jews. It's very obvious to me that the ONLY people who live in America right now who are NOT descended from immigrants are the Native Americans. The war we are now fighting is not new, it has in fact been waging since the very first immigration law was put into place in 1882 that prohibited only Chinese workers from migrating to America during the Gold Rush. Even then our leaders were losing sight of the original vision. Even though we weren't there, we can imagine the glorious day that the Statue of Liberty was dedicated to America as a symbol of freedom. The robed figure is meant to be a representation of the Roman goddess Libertas, the national symbol of France and worshiped by emancipated slaves in ancient times. A broken chain lies at her feet and her torch is held high as a beacon for all sea travelers who seek her asylum upon Liberty Island, the land dubbed "common to all the states" by Bartholdi. Can we travel even further back to imagine what it was like to fearfully sit under cover and watch bombs bursting in the air, feel the ground shaking from the blasts, our ears ringing with screams and explosions, and then to wake the next morning to find that our flag, our beautiful waving symbol of hope and liberty and freedom, was still there? How can we hold fast to our history while pushing away the very libertarian ideals that this country was built upon? How can we uphold laws that turn away the very same poor, persecuted, and tyrannized peoples? And how can we expect our souls to be at peace when we pass from this earth knowing that we have not done everything that we could to stop it?
Will you hold fast the torch for the Mother of Exiles?
THE NEW COLOSSUS
By Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
"He that would make his own liberty secure, must guard even his enemy from oppression; for if he violates this duty, he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself."
- Thomas Paine
"May we think of freedom, not as the right to do as we please,
Sometimes I like to sit and think about all of the things that I hate doing. I know that I shouldn't dwell, but some chores are simply no fun and a waste of my life. Dishes, laundry, vacuuming, working, doing my hair, shaving, applying make-up, painting my nails...wait a second. At least half of the tasks that I just listed don't REALLY need to be done. Do they? As a child I couldn't wait until I was old enough to do all of the "big girl" things like what I saw my grandmother doing. You really need the full picture here: my grandmother was from Alabama. She never left her bedroom in the morning until her face was "on", her hair was curled, and her perfectly ironed blouse was tucked snugly into the waistband of her slacks. This was the same woman who weighed herself everyday, re-painted her nails if there was even the tiniest of chips in the lacquer, and carried her poodle like a fashion statement. She was high-class country, and my grandpa thought himself lucky to have snagged himself a "Lineville girl". My grandma, who insisted on being called Grandmother Ellen, was the first consistent female role model in my life. She would roll in her grave if she knew that I was writing this without a bra on. So thirty years later, like her, I wake in the morning and put on my face before work, pin back my long hair, and spritz on perfume. At the end of the day I wash my face and weigh myself and powder my bottom. ...I think I just made myself throw up a little in the back of my mouth. You see? Times have changed, WE have changed, but we're still doing the same old things. Society's idea of beauty is still skinny, plucked, shaven, polite, and waxed. Here's the kicker: I know that I don't want to conform and wear makeup just because it makes me more pleasant for people to look at, but I still will because I want to feel pretty. I hate taking the time to shave my body everyday, but I'll still feel self-conscious if I haven't done it in a while. It's like it has been ingrained in us to please others by altering our own bodies, and it's so hard to retrain our brains not to think that way because everyone else still does it too. The first time I ever met my sister-in-law was at a pool party in the late afternoon. She had just driven in from California, or Colorado, or wherever she lived at that particular time, and it had been a long journey. Her curly, red hair was uncombed and her bra straps were falling down her shoulders. She reached out and wrapped her arms around me in the warmest hug that I had ever experienced, and I noticed that she had underarm hair. Like, a LOT of armpit hair. And she didn't give a flying shit! It did not register to her at all that it may be weird for people to see that she hadn't shaved in a few weeks, especially since she was wearing a sleeveless shirt. I LOVE her! She likes to creatively paint her face from time to time, almost like a canvas for her next art project, but she doesn't feel the need to wear cover-up daily. Her hair is so wild that she couldn't tame it if she tried, and I'm so glad that she doesn't even bother. She is wild and open, honest and FREE. Other people can see whatever they want to see when they look at her, but when I look at her I see naked beauty and pure reality. We are all beautiful, just the way we are. Anyone who thinks differently should probably check their own ideas of beauty. Let them be the ones with the confining societal standards, I'd rather just be me.
What's your idea of beauty?
"Embracing your true self radiates a natural beauty that cannot be diluted or ignored. Confident, powerful, untamable, badass you!" - Dr. Steve Maraboli
