Meditation On….. Silence Yes.

To be alone with silence is to be alone with God” ~Samuel Miler Hageman

Silence….

What is This Wonderful Power of Silence ?!?

Something that is enjoyed!

Usually the senses bring in so much sight, sound and other things to us that they occupy most of our time.

But to sit in silence now and then, with the outside world withheld, means to cut all this off and free the mind so that it can become itself.
I’ve been asked, “You just sit and think?”
Well…, No,….not exactly,

Thinking involves words which are echos of sound from memories deep within.

I am meaning,…  detaching the mind from all the outside activity so that in senses there is nothing there but itself.
There is a great amount of power in this kind of silence.

Trying to describe it would be pointless since we each have our own interpretation of this state of being.. My answer would be to try it yourself.
So much time and energy are being wasted when we allow the echos of the outside world to invade our inner silence.

The word meditation in my opinion is a middle state of being.

Kinda alike a cruise control for the mind. Once you know you’re safe in a lane which is wanted you allow yourself to switch on the cruise control, the same is done when you want the silence of mind.

In this space you can and will find yourself.

Safely tucked away waiting to be rediscovered by you.

The silence is Yourself  in the most pure form of Just…., Being.

Learn who you truly are, beyond all the noise,  quiet the consciousness which  is forever yourself.

The only way to know the peace this brings is to try it yourself.

 

Much Love and Peace !!!

~God Bless!
~sweetlyfiercesoul

 

Why?…. So Many Signs i See..

Today I am pondering over how my thinking may hinder others because of how abstract my thoughts are. Is this a good or bad thing to creatively force others to question their reasoning. Curiosity would be one word to define me. I question and rework mostly everything I see. I calculate and truly think about why I am doing something when it’s within the routine of my life. I notice signs everywhere….From the colors that are worn by others, the song playing on the radio, the randomness, to what line in the grocery store I happened my way into. In the most simple of ways I find the answers to why. Simply by asking “why”.    These two YouTube videos  which I found this past weekend made me feel as if maybe, just Maybe….I am on to something big with how I have been able to connect my memories and meld them with memories that are like a machines. hmmmm…..but how to write…. TO BE CONTINUED….!

Know I choose the beauty of the word “why”…it can jump into our imaginations and give the most delightful visions of the very definition of beautiful (Be-U-fruitful).“~sweetlyfieresoul

Tears of Growth

Living Growth

“Her wounds of silent tears
bubble overflowing;
showing those of us who love her,
That her sweetly fierce soul is
forever growing”.  ~sweetlyfiercesoul

Why so Hush Hush?!

hush hush of sex

Sex.

I can remember I was in third grade as a bunch of us huddled around the dictionary in our private christian school as we looked up the word sex. We giggled and whispered thinking of so many more colorful things this word could mean. Then our teacher turned the corner and we all felt instant shame as we blushed trying to hide the Webster Dictionary.

Her face was so gentle and calm as she explained that sex was merely the way of determining gender, male or female. Which she proved by showing us the definition. That seemed to be enough for the rest of the kids as they each went to their desks, but for me, I was puzzled. I knew I wasnt being told the whole truth.

Why did I feel shame at being caught looking up a word that seemed to be so “hush-hush” but according to my teacher meant something so clean-cut.

sex is not a dirty word

I grew up being taught that sex was connected to shame. The words I remember my mom using to describe this word/act the most was “nasty” and “dirty”.   It was drilled into me that sex was for marriage which a wife then submitted to her husband. Yet the bible I was told to read was riddled with metaphors of sex being beautiful and spiritual.  And if it was meant for marriage, why was I, at such a young age already questioning the facts I were told to be true.

I had been sexually abused as a child yet I never felt a complete alienation from the act itself. I knew I held power over the persons that wanted my body for their own satisfaction. I would end up going into a dream like state during the act itself. Maybe I disconnected from reality completely and that’s why I continued to be intrigued.  I was introduced to porn by the age of 4 and yes, I can still remember the images I saw from those magazines. To me I saw beautiful strong  women who caused men to bow to their will. I saw art.  It didn’t click till later what I was actually seeing.

The sexual abuse did mess with my mind  in a way that is not like most.  I wasnt fearful or scared. It was more of an annoyance because it seemed inevitable that it would happen again and again simply because I was a girl. At the time I found comfort in the attention. I was always longing for a more meaningful connection which I would get a glimpse at but in the end I was left behind in a state of confusion.

Living with divorced parents caused a deeply rooted disconnect with how I perceived a loving relationship between the world and myself.

I was a hardcore people pleaser growing up. Which would later make it hard to say “no”  in my teen years.  In the times I wanted  the sexual advances I found that I wouldn’t allow myself to say “yes” or “no” aloud. It was easier to give myself for their pleasure in the time they wanted. In that decision, I would find myself safely in that welcomed trance where nothing could touch me and in that place I found comfort. This may have been a safe place for my mind, but it did nothing for helping me with healthy sexual thoughts.

I seem to split into two. I separated my mind from my body. Two completely different entities shut off from one another.  One was that of a complete restful sleep and relaxation knowing it would be over soon. The other was watching from above seeing the complete unworldly joy in the one getting pleasure from my body.  As for me, the pleasure I felt was not physical but mental.  The curious thoughts that would go through my head were more like a scientist watching an experiment or an artist creating a masterpiece. In those moments I didn’t see shame I saw pleasure, but why wouldn’t I allow myself to get lost in the physical pleasure as well?.   Was there really something wrong with how my mind understood how sex was suppose to be perceived.
we

Why was it me that was seeing sex so differently from those who were suppose teach me and help me to grow into being a healthy adult.

And why did it bring so much shame to the world around me? Why did my body clam up whenever the subject came up yet wish I could somehow communicate the truth going on inside me. Which was I liked sex, but maybe I saw through their eyes and not my own.

Why didn’t anyone want to tell me the truth about this hidden God-given truth!

That Sex is Good.

Love your sexuality

I guess I wanted to write this to show myself  I am not ashamed of sex, but that I still have questions on why no one wants to share their sexual stories of real life. Where is the safe haven to teach that sex is okay to think about and that shame and guilt need not be present to accept ones own sexuality.

I, like everyone who has a pulse, some way or another enjoys the feelings of being aroused, in their own way.  It has the ability to lift our spirits and clear our minds.  A scientific fact, yet not many want to tackle this subject.

I’ll just leave this here. 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

Petals, Implement, Vision, Party, and Parrots

img_6063

Random words that spew from the thoughts racing through the fabric of my mind.

I often have crazy thoughts, but they all seem to share an important part of the main link to my soul. As a writer, it’s my job to become what that link leads to.

For in that place, I will not only find myself but am then able to share a piece of you that has found a home in me.

An Airplane, A Home

airplane

My parents divorced by the time I was 8 moths old and my brother 4 years. I’m sure many others know the struggles of growing up in a life such as this.

For me, I believe this defined who and what I became as an adult. My parents, of course, would say, “just get over it already”(they tend to go the negative route), but I don’t think they truly understand what it was like for such small children to be put on a plane alone,, fly across the country and the impact it created for my growth into adulthood.

My father lived in California and my mother lived in Wisconsin. At least twice a year we would make this long and adventurous journey to a long awaited hug from the other parent.  We were told how to act and were dressed in our Sunday best. Most of the time we arrived at the airport before or after the rush of people hours before our flight since my father was a pilot and we flew “stand- by”. We would patiently wait to be called when two available seats were available which sometimes took a full day, especially around the holiday season.

Now for my brother and I this was our life

Our first flight alone  was when I was 3 years old. Can you imagine sending your two small children on a plane alone? I cannot.. We were the definition of “wild kids”, but the moment we stepped into that airport we instantly turned into mini adults. In doing this something within me changed. I learned how to switch off my emotions and become someone else. My imagination would run wild with all the new things and situations I got to witness.  Our favorite place to have a long layover was Las Vegas. We would ride the clear glass elevators up and down looking and listening at all the loud and colorfulness around us.  This was magic for me.

The traveling was one thing but the emotions of a constant inevitable”goodbye” at the end of the trip was heartbreaking. Getting in that last big bear hug  from my father knowing I wouldn’t see him again for a few months truly did a number on me.  The trip home was always a somber one, and going home to a family who we thought saw us more as a burden than joy didn’t help.  My brother and I felt we never truly belonged anywhere. When we were together….That was my home no matter what our physical location was.

So while we traveled alone, together, I felt whole if only for a day, because we had a freedom of magic. To be anyone we wanted just as long as we didn’t cause a problem to the adults around us. We learned to adapt to any situation on a moments notice. This is how my people pleasing started. Keeping all the adults who were around us happy because in their happiness we knew we were safe.  We learned to observe and read people’s emotions from just the look on their faces.

I’ve read of many sibling bonds and how they impacted one’s life. For me…My brother was apart of me. We didn’t need words to communicate, we still don’t. We always sensed what the other was feeling right to the core.  Now that I am an adult with my own family I have yet to understand just how different my up bring was. Some days I feel I have a psychological advantage and other days I feel I am psychologically flawed. Yet the Magic of my memories and experiences are still flowing through me as if it were yesterday.

I have always felt I grew up on an airplane, a home that overlooked the whole world. A home of freedom and magic. A place of protection, anticipation, and sadness.A place where anything is possible and I among the clouds felt at peace.