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Isn’t Life Beautiful?
The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes. - Frank Lloyd Wright
The early-morning quiet is my time for reflection and prayer. The silence provides a suitable tabernacle for my soul. In the stillness, I consider the day to come.
My thoughts drift from the necessary and to the spectacular. I consider my day’s schedule, the tasks to accomplish and the appointments to keep. After checking off the must-dos, my mind goes deeper. It goes to a place absent of urgency – it goes to a beautiful place.
Our lives can be anything we choose to make them. We can struggle with the complexity or we can delight in the simplicity. We can be overwhelmed by the ugliness or we can celebrate the beauty. I choose to look for the beauty.
As the day begins, I pause and remind myself that what I have today can be taken away tomorrow. This is my life complete with setbacks and disappointments, but it’s also full of love and beauty. Gripping my coffee mug with both hands, I close my eyes and say a prayer of thankfulness.
I open my eyes to see our guest rising in the eastern sky and before starting my day I ask myself, “Isn’t life beautiful?”
Finding beauty
I make the choice to see beauty and it blesses my life. This perspective gives me the power to appreciate every detail I care to acknowledge. This power is the perfect conduit to happiness. It’s the small things, as well as the large, that create my beautiful life.
Here’s a properly-sized window for you to look through. Perhaps if you do, you will become reacquainted with the beauty that is already a part of life:
I notice the sun breaking over the trees. It looks like a curtain rising on a new performance. Recognizing my stage is being unveiled for another day is a beautiful sight. The sound of my heart beating still strong and capable of enduring just about anything. The rhythmic vibration feels beautiful.
After showering and dressing for work, I walk back into the bedroom stop look in the mirrow wink and say goodmorning. For a brief moment I look into my eyes and smile yes I am beautiful.
Driving to the office is my chance to listen to any song I want. I select a song and then allow the words to go deep inside so I can take in their beautiful melody.
At work, my time is typically spent solving problems. Behind each problem is a person revealing their amazing beauty.
As my children grow older I’m finding more pleasure in being their mother. A telephone call from Mark telling me about a new business opportunity, receiving a text from David (grandson) with a question, talking baseball with Landon (grandson) or getting a hug from Autumn are the most beautiful things that happen to me during the day.
Returning home, I flip on the news and start preparing dinner. The warmth of my home fills my spirit with beautiful comfort. Some evenings I read my mail and try to find time to upride my sisters, but on all evenings I experience the beautiful healing the words bring me.
As the day draws to an end, I find myself in a beautiful place. Falling asleep the question swells inside me again, “Isn’t life beautiful?”
Before I drift to sleep, I hear my answer. It is clear, confident and full of promise. My answer is my choice. It is based on how I choose to see my life.
My answer is yes.
Life is beautiful
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In The Kingdom of Goddess Hood There is no CompetITIN
Female Hysteria and Creepy Old-Timey Vibrators
LADIES...Are you exhibiting any of the following symptoms:--Trouble sleeping?--Fluid retention?--Irritability?--"A tendency to cause trouble"?Yes, yes, yes and oh yes?Let's see, according to my medical book, circa 1895, you have a clear-cut case of Female Hysteria. (Men with similar symptoms will need to diagnose themselves with some other old-timey disease.
May I suggest "dairy fever" or perhaps "dropsy"?)In the 19th century, as many as 75% of middle-class women were estimated to suffer from hysteria, but luckily medical science was there to help them. Doctors treated hysteria with "pelvic massage" until the patient reached "hysterical paroxysm." In modern times, we know "pelvic massage" to be "the doctor jerking off his patient" and "hysterical paroxysm" to be "orgasm."
The procedure as a whole is now known as "grounds for a lawsuit."Doctors of the day were happy to provide such a treatment, as it provided a steady stream of paying customers (patients were advised to come in weekly for their treatments). It was all good, except for one thing, doctors found the actual manipulation of their patients genitals to be tedious and tiring. According to the highly entertaining Wikipedia entry on Female Hysteria: "The technique was difficult for a physician to master and could take hours to achieve 'hysterical paroxysm.'" (The physicians' widespread befuddlement at mastering these basic lady-pleasing skills puts Marrying a Doctor much lower on the To-Do list.)
The doctors were saved from the arduous task of trying to make these damn women come, already, by the magic device, the vibrator. The first of these "massage and vibratory apparatus" was patented by American physician (USA! USA!) George Taylor and was--and I can scarcely stand to type this--steam-powered. (The resulting billowing smoke making this perhaps the least discreet form of masturbatory tool.) Soon, physicians' offices were outfitted with electric vibrators, allowing doctors to get the job done in a matter of minutes instead of hours, and allowing most of mankind to stay blissfully ignorant about female orgasm until about the 1960s.
By the early 1900s, these miraculous health-giving electric vibrators started showing up in the American women's home. In fact, vibrators were one of the earliest electric home appliances invented, showing up ten years earlier than the vacuum cleaner or iron. Regular old, non-pervy companies like Hamilton Beach and Sears Roebuck were in the lucrative business of selling vibrators to housewives. There photos in the1918 Sears Roebuck and Co. catalog. "Very useful and satisfactory for home service," it says, vaguely, hoping you get the idea. Vibes were openly marketed in catalogs and women's magazines. The ads weren't directly saying, "Put this on your wang" but they did refer to its "wonderfully refreshing" effect. Read one ad: "Can be used by yourself in the privacy of dressing room or boudoir, and furnish every woman with the essence of perpetual youth." The home vibe was a thrifty purchase, too. With doctors charging $2 to jack you off, the $5.95 portable home vibrator would pay for itself after only three uses.
According to this one dude, Mike, who collects antique vibrators, there were also air-powered and hand-cranked device. I don't understand the physics of the device, but Mike explains that there is "a plunging motion of the center disk." I know it's supposed to be an erotic device, but I see this and think of the twisting motions of a hand mixer, the voluminous bushes of 1800s-era ladies, and well, I can venture a guess as to why we don't all have Macuara's Pulsocon Hand Vibrators stashed in our nightstand drawers.If you, like Mike and--apparently, me--are fascinated by these old devices, by all means make haste and check out the online Antique Vibrator Museum they put up at Good Vibrations. There is an educational video, plus photos of all sorts of creepy-ass, early electrical vibes. Like, look at this 1902 Hamilton Beach model, the "Type A":
The Hamilton Beach, Type A, 1902I mean, Good Lord! The giant motor! The thick cloth covering the cord! And is that an oil can in there? The Type A looks loud--roaringly loud, jackhammer loud. But most importantly, electricity back then was scary. I wouldn't even be brave enough to use a toaster from those days, much less put some shorting-out, spark-shooting, scary new-fangled doodad on my nether regions. I don't care how "wonderfully refreshing" it's supposed to be.As all this new information (scary old vibes! hand cranks! hysterical paroxysm!) rattles around in my mind, I find that I keep going back to the 19th century doctor's office and this strangely sexless sex between doctor and patient. Were either of them aroused by what was going on? Did the females see the doctor breaking out his Hamilton Beach 4000 or whatever and feel a thrill of anticipation, or just the kind of dull disinterest one would experience while watching a mechanic change the car's oil. And I wonder about the women's orgasm. If they were not told it was pleasurable, did they experience it as pleasure, or as just a release, akin to finally getting to pee on a long car trip?
Conscious Community
5 Types Of People.
1. True believes in me = Show me Art of appreciation, and is cheering me on.
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2. Way Shower = Similar journey but further down.
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3. Messenger = Shows how it is done and helps equip for journey
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4. Confident = She/he has my back, a close trusted friend.
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5. Na Sayers = keep at a distance. When they say you cannot do that, You say yes I can.
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May a list of those you know and list in what category they go. Some can be in one or more categories.
6. Everyone Else
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What to do when you feel cranky
6 Things to do when you feel cranky
1. Acts of Animist good.
2. Thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus.
3. Look in mirror and say with a wink I deserve this.
4. Do the Visiting Dignitary.
5. Make list of gratitude.
6. Brag, brag, brag.
I am a princess on the way to my throne.
I am a magnet for all kinds of deep wonderment
I am a wunderkind, oh oh
I am a pioneer, naive enough to believe that
I am a princess on the way to my throne
The above lyrics from the Alanis Morissette song Wunderkind have been a constant in my head since she sangs the song so beautifully For some reason both the melody and the lyrics of this song have become a kind of anthem of sorts for me the last month or so. In fact even my son has decided it is one of his favorites.
I was thinking today about what it is I love so much about these lyrics and why they speak to me so loudly and so deeply. What I have figured out (I think) is this; these lyrics represent a piece of what I feel my mission is in this life. On the road to reconnecting with my own Essential Self, I have not only found a greater sense of inner peace and a greater sense of self worth than I have ever experienced before but I have also discovered a greater sense of my true feminine essence, beauty and power. I truly believe that as a woman, I AM a magnet for all kinds of deep wonderment and I AM a princess on the way to my throne!!
This feeling and belief has ended up serving me greatly in all my roles: Mother, Sister, Girlfriend, Daughter, Friend, even my role as daily Starbucks patron has been positively affected! The point being is that it has affected how I show up in the world and therefore what I get back in return! What a gift.
So many of the women I have encountered and continue to encounter in my life through work or friends or fellow moms or however we connect are absolutely INCREDIBLE women! I feel like when I meet these women that they are instant kindred spirits and I have the ability to see through their outer shells of stress and pain or “pretend” happiness and into their core. What I see inside there often is a wee little spark. It is a spark of spirit, it is a spark of light, it is a spark of desire, it is a spark of joy and it is a spark that is absolutely DYING to turn into a fire.
My belief is that it is my mission and purpose to be part of the inspiration for these women to truly come into themselves in a way that allows for a life of incredible gratitude and joy. To help them to see what I see. The incredible power, the unbelievable beauty, and the amazing strength. First to see all that within and then to CELEBRATE it. Pretty damn cool.
To being a magnet and a princess because you absolutely know deep down that you are!
My Manifesto of Truths
I am…
flawed in all ways I am meant to be.
ready to embrace the lessons my spirit chose to learn.
meant to follow my heart and soul to my truest desires.
no longer willing to wait for my happiness to begin.
able to believe I am absolutely enough in each moment.
at times, almost paralyzed by the love I have for the people and experiences in my life.
finally wise enough to know that my body & bank account do not define me.
perfect, even when I fail miserably and publicly.
a brilliant gorgeous & incredibly sexy work in progress.
wildly in love with my spirit and my essence even when I feel blue.
willing to be not right, not perfect and not graceful if that is what it takes.
at peace with not always knowing the outcome of living and loving fully and truly.
open to continue healing, learning and growing even when it includes mighty doses of discomfort.
finally able to say “I’m not ok” and ” I need help”.
beginning to understand there is a finish line.
already the winner.
