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

Light of Love

Light of Love

 

 Twilight was misty and cold in California that night as I stood outside my father’s house. I was 16 holding only a small brown leather purse with a few dollars. I Stared at the unlit door, knowing once again I had disappointed my family.  I thought about what would happen once I walked in late for curfew once more. 

My step mother would yell and a call would be made to what ever part of the world my father happen to be for his job.   I could imagine the look on their faces; disappointment and Anger.  But it was the faces of my younger half sisters that caused me to delay walking in.  

Knowing they would hear the fighting and be awoken from their dreams. That me,  their bigger sister had been the cause of their life turning upside down for the past 8 months since I moved in. 

Right then and there I decided to walk away.  Where would I go?

My grandmother lived just across the Street yet I had once already been dragged from her house. Being told my home was through that unlit door. 

 My mother and step father 3000 miles away.  What was I doing?

In my twisted teenage mind, I thought I was saving them. Saving them from myself.  The only way I knew to protect their hearts was to remove the problem, which was me. 

So into the night I walked without saying goodbye, without looking back.

  My heart-broken for the house light that wasn’t lit. 

If they only knew just how much that light would have meant to me.

 Maybe. Just maybe I wouldn’t have followed the street lights that promised a home.  

~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. 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Shy Angel

An angel at my gate

A day like every other was the day we met an angel. Walking hand in hand down the alley to our little house protected by 8 foot fences.
We came upon a man sitting by our gate.

He was a short, small old man about the age of 80. His clothes looked as if they hadn’t been washed in my moons. His long silvery grey beard reached down his chest with the tangled look as that of a wandering old dog.

He was covered with dirt, sand, and mud which told the story of how this man was living. On the streets. A homeless man with no belongings was a strange site to see since mostly all the others pushed carts or carried around trashed bags filled with everything they owned. Yet here he was without a thing sitting in the hot Californian sun.  Sweat dripping down his brow as he looked to the ground when he saw us approaching.  (squatting by someones gate is normally not the thing to do)

I said hello with a smile and quickly walked through our gate.
When we reached the house my son who was 4 said, ” mama, can I bring that man some water he looks thirsty.”
How could I deny my sons kind heart of wanting to help a stranger.

I didn’t feel threatened or scared so I said, “sure”.

I made a sandwich, gathered some fruit from the top of the counter and some bottled water.
Then I stopped and thought, he’s gonna get his sandwich full of sand and dirt because of how dirty his hands were. And honestly who wants to eat a sandy sandwich. No one.

So I got a bucket of water and a wash cloth with some soap. My children and I opened our gate.

My son gave him the cold bottled water. He reached out to take the water yet still leaving his eyes to the ground. I handed him the plate of food which he gently reached for shyly.
He was in the middle of talking off his socks and shoes. Which I think he felt ashamed for doing outside my gate.  His feet held the stories of all the many miles he had traveled his life, worn, wrinkled, and dirty as could be.
I put the bucket of water beside him with the wash cloth folded over the rim and a small dry towel over the top.

I assured him he was welcomed where he choose to sit and asked if  he needed help washing his feet since he was having trouble bending over. He looked embarrassed by my request. He spoke in a shaky soft voice telling me I had already done more for him then he could ever have imagined.

We allowed him to wash up in privacy.
Through the gap in gate I saw him wash his face first then hands and feet with the bucket of soapy water. He had placed the towel down on the ground to place his wet feet.

When he was done he disposed of the dirty water at arms reach over some dying plants that needed a drink also.  Folded the wash cloth and gently put them back in place.

As he was finishing his lunch we walked back out to see if he needed or wanted anything more to eat or drink. This time when we opened the gate his head was looking up towards the sun. He had a presence of pure happiness in that moment. We were met with a smile and the brightest eyes that said “thank you”.

I had told him my son had wanted to give him some water since it was such a hot day. He looked at my son and with such gentle eyes said, “hello, I’m Thomas. You are a very brave and kind little boy. Thank you for the water”. My son looked so proud.
We exchanged some small talk which I cant recall much about.  As we said our good byes and wished each other well we left him barefoot and smiling at the sun.

Just as I closed the gate I felt I couldn’t just let him leave without giving him something more.  So I quickly turned around to let him know I would gather a few things he could use later.
I reopened the gate and….he was gone!

All that remained was empty bucket with the wash cloth folded on the rim and the folded towel placed on top.

He was just there a moment ago barefoot. How could he be gone, not even in eye site down the alley. He could barely move yet how could Thomas had managed to walk a football field length out of sight in less then 30 seconds. “What?!”

I was shocked and bewildered, “how could this old man have vanished”.
My son looked up at me with a cheeky grin, “Thomas was an angel.” He said in such a way as if he were saying, “Duh, mom”.

I felt as if we truly did see an angel. He had such a calming presence about him, unlike most people. He was so polite and inviting never asking for anything.

We never saw Thomas before or after that day, but I think of him often.
Why did he choose my gate to rest at when it was smack in the hot sun with no shade. Why us?

I guess an angel doesn’t need a reason to see if your going to lend a helping hand they just show up to see if you will.

So be kind to those you see and allow your kindness to be freely given. For this one day has brought many smiles to my face as well as my son who is now 19 and that alone is so worth so much more than I gave him, Thomas our shy angel.

 

Petals, Implement, Vision, Party, and Parrots

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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.

Be Brilliantly Bright

72d28d3c-fe9e-41ac-af93-9f816c25757fIt’s amazing to know just how powerful the mind is when you are willing to accept all outcomes as a blessing. Knowing that even through trials and toils there too our true role of leadership shows through.

As I look back upon my life of struggles and constant hardships I have always known I see light where others see pure darkness. Being of that light and trusting my inner self to continue on in search of myself in everyone I meet. It’s in the quiet and omitted parts of all things that truth truly lives. For if certain words are spoken there is bound to be a negative reaction. Why must all things be heard or seen to be real?!….that’s the beauty of my Light, it needs not be known to just anyone, but to those who quietly seek within themselves for something they already carry within. Light is something you choose to carry for it can and will be at some point a heavy burden.

For many are in darkness wrapped up in the details of what they still have chosen to believe from childhood and stubbornness of not wanting to travel a road unknown. The Light can not be hidden or snuffed out if it is truly yours to hold.

Personally, it has never even been an option to lay it down for when times got hard I feel the warmth of its glow guiding to go even further into what is uncomfortable for only then my light grows.
It’s not about joining a group or being known as a “special person” for if you are known for holding such a position among men it is then when human nature tries to yell, “I’m free to do as I please” forgetting the many looking for your true loyal quiet Light.

Continue on your journey of knowledge of being kind and gentle to all you encounter for we all mirror ourselves in our most unpleasant of times. For in a moment of weakness of frustration in pride we many not sense danger to oneself but in that moment of stupidity a reaction bigger than anything we could have imagined could lead to ultimate death of character, spirit, knowledge, or even loss of life to someone who is counting on the guiding Light at the Peak hours of need.
Be diligent Choosing to run with a courageous gentleness towards the darkness for you never know who is waiting to see your BRILLIANT LIGHT. For those waiting in silence with knowledge from with in will ultimately be lighting their own Light by simply believing the darkness would not over take them.

For those waiting in silence with knowledge from within will ultimately be lighting their own Light by simply believing the darkness would not overtake them.
Trust is not so easy in the times of the here and now, but I will certainly say…
when the day comes where a smile is felt instead of a frown, a spark will have ignited and you shall forever be aglow.
Be well and gracious to yourselves living within this masterpiece of magnificent beauty. We are all perfect pieces of art for in OUR Light we are all One and as one we all lead on.