Friday, December 14, 2012

Survival

 

The first time

you took off your clothes
in front of me, you slid
the white fabric of your blouse
off your arms and revealed
the pale ladders
of scars.
You never referenced them
directly. You said you were
lost, once. You said you
did things, once, and you
did them because they
helped you survive yourself.
I didn’t say anything,
but you took my hand
and pressed it to the
ridged rows of your flesh
and for every line you left
upon yourself and healed,
I found another reason
to call you beautiful.


This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published Oct 7, 2012

The night before my bestfriend's wedding


I am not a gentle breeze on a sun-kissed face, 
I am not a white sun-dress fluttering in the wind, 
nor perfect pined back hair. But a more slim
than curvy body in a baggy hoody and a short skirt.
I am grey’s favorite color. That is why you keep
calling me and not your soon-to-be to come get you.

I refuse to play pretend like your new bride.
Because I will never be surprised by the rush of
darkness that creeps upon the corner of your eyes after
you've drank too much. Nor that shocked that you are so
lost in sadness that you have no idea how visible it is.
Or, maybe you do. Which is why it is okay for a broken
window in December & tattered shoes wearing Imperfect
like me to push you into the truck and drive us away

It is okay for me to see your Ugly because I am the naked
tree limb that passes us by & the squawking black birds
that hang on them. I am neither a water-color sunsets
nor autumn's harvest moon. I am your favorite crooked
smile even when I am weary of people who want to make
me normal. But never make me normal

“We should have sex.” you are laughing, still conscience.
Third stop light from your house I reply
“No” I will always be your painful rejection.

But, just for you because I am not a white sun-dress,
& pined back hair. Perfect paradoxes & poignant
moments are profound & I apologize for my awkward silence
but not for the storm  that beats in my ribcage. Your hand
fits hot and heavy against my inner thigh just as I pull in to the drive.
The house is lit up and people moving around. 
You lean further into the moment between our time continuum-
that would take us back to our 16 year old moment.

Even without the tire-swing your nest is a painting I can never
get lost in. I look through the too narrow & stationary frame
& become the invisible ants crawling under your skin every time
you stumble fire whiskey through. I am not a gentle breeze
on a sun-kissed face I am not a white sun-dress fluttering in the wind,
nor perfect pined back hair. I am grey’s favorite color.
I refuse to play the pretend scared virgin.

I am not your soon to be bride. Because you will never be
surprised by the rush of  darkness that creeps upon the
corner of my eyes after I've drunk too much.
Nor will you ever be shocked that I get so lost in
sadness that at times I have no idea how visible it is.
Or, maybe I do. Which is why it is okay for me to drive this
truck in December even with the passenger window broken

I am another woman’s wear tattered shoes. I am swallowed in her
hoody. It may be imperfect for me to remove your hand, kiss you
on the cheek all the while pushing you out the door & on to your
good intentions. I get away from your perfect built Hell 
nonetheless with a smile that makes knowing a single
phone call is all it takes to bring me back worth it.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Mindescape


I don't like to sleep

where the water stretches its arms along our shores.

But it is where you will find me, nonetheless

it being the only place my chest stops hurting

when drowning everyday, in their slums. 


I chose to the sky as a

blanket even though it is at the best of times,

a little holy with its starry nights. Is not my

preferred place for napping. 

But it is where you will find me, nontheless.


I lie indignantly still and curled preciously

between the ocean and sky. I have to

wear goggles for when I lay my weary head on

a passing cloud. I wake up every night

with water falling from my eyes, and cotton

silenced in my ear. 


Thursday, November 22, 2012

Friday, November 9, 2012

Vagabonding

It wasnt like taking a breath, a single moment interval, the release of air, and then...Epiphany. No, the universe decided that my journey, to that moment I realized the urgency had disappeared; had to be done with a lot of walking. Before my epiphany comes, I must sleep many places away from my homeland. Until then my wanderlust will comfort me in my be tonight. - Last dying words.

Ernest Hemingway: The writer


Sunday, November 4, 2012

The anointed drowns and

shivers of disappointment, deliciously
caresses down my spine and ripples like a pebble
dropped in the middle of the ocean.
I craved them, it seems almost as desperately as I
am trembling insatiably at the mercy of
yet another heart shaped stone.
Attached to my feet as I lethargically sink slowly.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Today I am a Kite

Its better to think the worst and apologize for being wrong than to blindly but blissfully trust and be made to feel like a fool for trusting so easily?

Today I am a kite

It is said that Fate, are three Spinsters sister who control human
life using strings that connect the moments
our lives together.

I believe,

among those millions of strings
exists a single thread of trust just long enough to wrap
around a pink. The perfect promise to never to let the wind
carry me away.

For,

I am that kite with too many keys and not enough
locks. A bit too long a tail but motely in color. Too high
to distinguish faces, even on the brightest of sunny day.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Ascension Pioneers

"Purification, cleansing and purging on all levels of our Being is essential on this journey of Self ascension. This includes physical detox through drinking pure water, getting lots of sunshine, spending time in Nature, rising our vibration through sound and Light patterns, eating healthy and raw organic Light foods, etc.

Mental purging consists of speaking, writing and acting only through love, not the ego, choosing to respond instead of react, observing our thoughts through conscious observation and non judgment.

Emotional purification includes practicing forgiveness and compassion until there is no more need to forgive, for the Heart is open at all times, and we become pure embodiment of Divine Love. Spiritual purging consists of always seeing things from a higher perspective, reaching towards our Angelic Self and connecting to I AM Presence, with the assistance of invoking the sacred Violet Flame of purification and transmutation, as well as any other rays and energies within the highest Light of One!

When we purify on all the levels, we become a pure vessel for Spirit! Welcome in your New Self … your only true Self!"



"Hurt people hurt people. That’s how pain patterns gets passed on, generation after generation after generation. Break the chain today. Meet anger with sympathy, contempt with compassion, cruelty with kindness. Greet grimaces with smiles. Forgive and forget about finding fault. Love is the weapon of the future."


Yehuda Berg

Sunday, October 14, 2012

A Scanner Darkly

What does a scanner see? he asked himself. I mean, really see? Into the head? Down into the heart? Does a passive infrared scanner like they used to use or a cube-type holo-scanner like they use these days, the latest thing, see into me—into us—clearly or darkly? I hope it does, he thought, see clearly, because I can’t any longer these days see into myself. I see only murk.

Murk outside; murk inside. I hope, for everyone’s sake, the scanners do better. Because, he thought, if the scanner sees only darkly, the way I myself do, then we are cursed, cursed again and like we have been continually, and we’ll wind up dead this way, knowing very little and getting that little fragment wrong too. - Philip K Dick

Osho

“Remember one thing always - that there is no cause to be anxious in life, and all causes are just excuses. If you decide not to be anxious, then nothing will make you anxious; there is nothing worth it. Life is such a fleeting phenomenon that is going to disappear one day. Why be bothered too much about it? We are only here for so few days. Just play the game and remain aloof. If one can remain a witness, aloof, distant from things, then anxiety is not possible. Anxiety comes into existence only when we become identified with small things. And they all pass.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Variation of Yohji Yamamoto

I think perfection is ugly. I rather like the scars, distortions, failures, and disorders that reminds me of beauty in the human journey. –Variation of Yohji Yamamoto

Monday, October 1, 2012

Forget-me-nots are my favorite


Pablo Neruda said,
if suddenly you forget me, I want you to
know one thing:

Do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

Now Pablo was a hard man,
             because,

when I wake up from a dream
made of sub-conscience memories
of you & I,


which are like looking at snippets,
little by little of the times,
you forgot how to love me.

I am reminded of how I can never 
leave those precious times behind.
      And,

while Pablo would have probably 
already forgotten you by now,
I still struggle through sleep sometimes.

Because,
I'd rather dream of sub-conscience 
memories of you &I. 

So I can cherish and always
appreciate waking up 
      next to her.


Friday, September 28, 2012

8 Writing Techniques to Win You a Pulitzer


Pulitzer Prize
Today’s guest post is from writer Joe Bunting, who blogs at The Write Practice.

We all know there are novels and then there are “literary” novels. When you read Margaret Atwood, it just feels different than when you read Tom Clancy. And for some reason, these literary novels are the ones that win all the most prestigious awards like the Pulitzer Prize, the Man Booker Prize, and the Nobel Prize for Literature.
Literary authors are known for their unique voices and experimental styles. You might have learned not to write run-on sentences in school or to avoid beginning a sentence with “and,” but literary writers often seem to flaunt their rule-breaking ways.
This is both good and bad. Literary novels can be difficult to understand, but they can also be beautiful to read, like poetry.
So if you’re salivating to win a Nobel Prize, and just don’t think your diplomacy skills are good enough to win the Peace Prize, here are eight techniques you can use to make your writing more “literary.”

1. Write long sentences.

Long sentences can make for beautiful, complex prose that you want to read again and again to fully appreciate.
Hemingway, Faulkner (both Nobel winners), James Joyce, and all those 1920s modernist authors were known for their long, run-on sentences, full of conjunctions and lacking “correct” punctuation. Contemporary writers, like Cormac McCarthy and Tim O’Brien, do the same. Here’s a quote from O’Brien’s The Things They Carried which illustrates it clearly:
Now and then, however, there were times of panic, when they squealed or wanted to squeal but couldn’t, when they twitched and made moaning sounds and covered their heads and said Dear Jesus and flopped around on the earth and fired their weapons blindly and cringed and sobbed and begged for the noise to stop and went wild and made stupid promises to themselves and to God and to their mothers and fathers, hoping not to die.
Isn’t that beautiful?

2. Write short sentences.

Writing long sentences can get old. If you follow up an extremely long sentence with a short snappy one, you can whip your reader to attention. Notice how Cormac McCarthy does it in Suttree:
One thing. I spoke with bitterness about my life and I said that I would take my own part against the slander of oblivion and against the monstrous facelessness of it and that I would stand a stone in the very void where all would read my name. Of that vanity I recant all.
Try reading it aloud. Notice how that last sentence feels like a gavel, cracking in a loud courtroom?

3. Be lyrical.

Literary writers are interested not just in what their words mean, but in how they sound. The technical term for this is phonoaesthetics, the study of the sound of words and sentences. Like poets, literary writers want their words to melt on their reader’s tongue like rich, dark chocolate. They want their readers to stop and say, “Mmm,” and stare off into the distance contemplating all that is beautiful.
There are a few techniques writers use to make their writing more euphonic, including alliteration, assonance, and consonance, but the best way to develop your “ear” for lyrical writing is to read other lyrical writers very slow. You might pick up some Annie Dillard, William Faulkner, or Virginia Woolf.

4. Make an allusion to the Bible or Moby Dick or Milton.

Literary writers are well read. They realize their writing doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and so they subtly pay homage to the classic writers who have gone before them, which also deepens the meaning of their own work.
To make an allusion, you use an image, character, or even a direct quote from another work of literature. These act as portals, coloring your story with the meanings wrapped up in the work you’re referencing.
Also, it makes those who “get it” feel special.

5. Use an eponym to name your characters.

Another way to use allusion is to name one of your characters after a character in another work. This technique works as a kind of literary pun, and creates an implicit association, a shared relationship, with the character in the other work.

6. Be specific.

Literary writers often study the vocabulary of the subject they’re writing about. They want their writing to be precise. For example, if they’re writing about nature, rather than just talking about the trees, they might describe the tulip poplar, the white oak, the eastern red cedar.
If they’re writing about birds, they might avoid describing them as the red bird or the blue bird, but rather the kingfisher, the painted bunting, or the yellow-bellied sapsucker.

7. Write a story within a story (or a story within a story within a story).

The story-within-a-story is one of the oldest literary techniques, and it’s a simple way to create rich, multi-layered stories.
It works simply by having one of your characters tell another character a story, and this second story becomes the main story of the novel. Think Arabian Nights, where Scheherazade tells the Sultan story after story and eventually manages to make him fall in love with her.
Or Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, where the story of Petruchio “wedding and bedding” Katherina is set within another play about a drunk tricked into thinking he’s rich.
Or Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children, where the protagonist writes his memoirs as he narrates them to his mistress.

8. Have a wide scope.

Literary novels tend to have a wide, national or international scope, even if they portray local events. Hemingway, for example, often set his novels within the context of great wars, like World War I or the Spanish Civil War. Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby is considered a portrait of the “Lost Generation” and the Roaring 20s because of its memorable characters who were caught up in the decade’s debauchery. Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children is about the rise and “fall” of India, from Independence to Indira Gandhi’s injustices.
You may not want to win a Pulitzer, but if you do want to give your writing a touch of literary flair, these techniques are a good place to start. By far, the best way to learn more about these techniques, though, is to read more literary fiction. Here are a few good titles by authors I’ve mentioned:
  • For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
  • The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
  • Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
  • Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie
  • A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
  • Absalom! Absalom! by William Faulkner

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

S & M

I surmise today that sly slicker is being played here.
I state solemnly, all suits and sways who be slowly
streeting down the walkway. Singing salty pleads to seeds solicitous
hope to slither in my lady’s garden. I state here this Sunday
that all suits and sways who be slowly streeting down the
walkway to sweep those sweaty sacs to the curb when my Satin-Flower
comes swaying. Save the scraps and squalls for some other broads.
Because my Sweet Sapphos will always swelter in splendid spring for me
For she sincerely loves my pussy.

&

This is for those mean mannish macin mavericks that dont know
my mistress’s favorite meals are my mac lips on make-up.
Don’t know that her hum’s are meaning filled memories that grows more
marvelous as we continue to bring moments alive.
They don’t know that minors combined with majors becomes our moans
is just as melodic music more magically than magic
itself to me when muttered. 
Mavericks do not understand, that misgivings doesn’t matter anymore,
only maturity matters.
That and every meticulous minuscule atomic-maelstrom making itself
beyond the moon with her and I, only matters to me. Oh and this magnanimous mouth

sincerely loves tasting her pussy.

Philosophy


The best thing about being a lesbian is girls can’t get you pregnant.
The worst thing about being a lesbian is girls can’t get you pregnant.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

I am not beautiful Nature

I am not a gentle breeze on a sun-kissed face,
I am not water-color sunsets nor autumn's harvest moon,

but the rush of darkness that creeps upon the
corner of your eyes after you've drunk too much.

The naked tree limbs & ugly birds that hang on them.
I am a broken window in December and tattered shoes

at the end of February because they have come this far is
astounding, so its hard to imagine wearing anything different.

My skin dances with the shadows under my eye-lids, & mixes
with the light at the corner of my rouge lips. I smile even when

I am weary of people, who wants to make me normal.
Perfect paradoxes & poignant moments are profound

& I apologize for my awkward sadness but not for the storm
that beats in my ribcage. You may get see the flash of lightening

but never will you be close enough to hear the echoing thunder.

Monday, August 20, 2012

AAarrrggghhhhh!!!


I remember,
The summer you stood me up,
for our first date. I will never let you live it down,
but know of the dog-tiredness that crept up past forenoon
made the alarm clock sleep through you.

Must have tied you down to the bed like a pillow to a dream.
I remember being too much like a kite without a string to really mind 
the breeze that carried me to my favorite coffee shop.

A Sunday afternoon
I remember, feeling stupid as a half an hour goes by and I
am waiting on the train to find the time to break the 
daydream. 

finally are you are awake
finally you remember that I am sitting next to you
on the bench in the rain after we feel asleep, and woke up
old Ladies. 

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Sunday, August 5, 2012

decanting a bottle of wine



                                                      (writing drunk poems)


Misery loves company?

Well my misery dont need any
more company, tonight. 
Not when I have a room filled

with stained-glass wine bottles
that likes to round their full lips of 

seduction and whisper,
'There wont be anymore grief tonight baby
I promise, just reach the bottom.'

Which are bolded LiesI wasn’t able 

to figure out, until much too late. 
Already too close to the edge to begin
I start to scramble to be -lips to lips-
To fall inside the womanly shaped bottle,
to circle lazy butterfly strokes and swam
in the chaotic point at her center.

I am a maelstrom with two arms to stir me 
careless, because I am only half a star.
Half a moon, tonight.
If misery is for company
than Merlot is for the Nightowls,

Even if we do ended up with a taste of bitter 
grapes bubbling like a cauldron in our stomachs.

Even if I do put my clenched hand
through green window pane 
when I remember 
grief lies, as I swam alone in the empty glass
looking for an
e s c a p e. 

Or my other star because I am becoming
delirious at how bloody fists
metaphorically looks a lot like bleeding hearts.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

theory of sinners

Alcohol and sexual desires are peoples favorite poison.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

-unknown

If I could be any part of you, I'd be your tears. To be conceived in your heart, born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die on your lips.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

I live...

For the little world in my head. For the way I don't have any idea what I'm going to do with my life For my lost, but happy soul, for every emotion I feel, for every morning coffee and every sleepless night. For the seasons in my heart, for my fears and everything I want to say, but I can't. For the fire in your eyes and the movement of your fingers and for the ways you slowly complicate my life.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Pantheist Credo

1. We revere and celebrate the Universe as the totality of being, past, present and future. It is self-organizing, ever-evolving and inexhaustibly diverse. Its overwhelming power, beauty and fundamental mystery compel the deepest human reverence and wonder.

2. All matter, energy, and life are an interconnected unity of which we are an inseparable part. We rejoice in our existence and seek to participate ever more deeply in this unity through knowledge, celebration, meditation, empathy, love, ethical action and art.

3. We are an integral part of Nature, which we should cherish, revere and preserve in all its magnificent beauty and diversity. We should strive to live in harmony with Nature locally and globally. We acknowledge the inherent value of all life, human and non-human, and strive to treat all living beings with compassion and respect.

4. All humans are equal centers of awareness of the Universe and nature, and all deserve a life of equal dignity and mutual respect. To this end we support and work towards freedom, democracy, justice, and non-discrimination, and a world community based on peace, sustainable ways of life, full respect for human rights and an end to poverty.

5. There is a single kind of substance, energy/matter, which is vibrant and infinitely creative in all its forms. Body and mind are indivisibly united.

6. We see death as the return to nature of our elements, and the end of our existence as individuals. The forms of “afterlife” available to humans are natural ones, in the natural world. Our actions, our ideas and memories of us live on, according to what we do in our lives. Our genes live on in our families, and our elements are endlessly recycled in nature.

7. We honor reality, and keep our minds open to the evidence of the senses and of science’s unending quest for deeper understanding. These are our best means of coming to know the Universe, and on them we base our aesthetic and religious feelings about reality.

8. Every individual has direct access through perception, emotion and meditation to ultimate reality, which is the Universe and Nature. There is no need for mediation by priests, gurus or revealed scriptures.

9. We uphold the separation of religion and state, and the universal human right of freedom of religion. We recognize the freedom of all pantheists to express and celebrate their beliefs, as individuals or in groups, in any non-harmful ritual, symbol or vocabulary that is meaningful to them.

Sunday poem: Jorge Luis Borges

BARUCH SPINOZA

Like golden mist, the west lights up
The window. The diligent manuscript
Awaits, already laden with infinity.
Someone is building God in the twilight.
A man engenders God. He is a Jew
Of sad eyes and citrine skin.
Time carries him as the river carries
A leaf in the downstream water.
No matter. The enchanted one insists
And shapes God with delicate geometry.
Since his illness, since his birth,
He goes on constructing God with the word.
The mightiest love was granted him,
Love that does not expect to be loved.

                          Jorge Luis Borges
                         (translated by Yirmiyahu Yovel)

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Full Moon Calander

Year
Month
Day
Time
Day of Week
2012
Jan
9
07:30
Mon
2012
Feb
7
21:54
Tue
2012
Mar
8
09:39
Thu
2012
Apr
6
19:19
Fri
2012
May
6
03:35
Sun
2012
Jun
4
11:12
Mon
2012
Jul
3
18:52
Tue
2012
Aug
2
03:27
Thu
2012
Aug
31
13:58
Fri
2012
Sep
30
03:19
Sun
2012
Oct
29
19:49
Mon
2012
Nov
28
14:46
Wed
2012
Dec
28
10:21
Fri

Solstice & Equinox

Solstice:

Summer Solstice is the first day of the Season of Summer. On this day June 20th in the Northern Hemisphere, the Sun is the farthest North and the length of time between Sunrise and Sunset is the longest of the year.

Winter Solstice is the fist day of the Season of Winter. On this day December 21th in the Northern Hemisphere the Sun is the farthest South and the length of time between Sunrise and Sunset it the shortest of the year.

Equinox:

There are two Equinoxes every year - in September and March - when the sun shines directly on the Equator and the length of the day and night is nearly equal. 12 hours all over the world. Seasons are opposite on either side of the equator.

Spring Equinox is the first day of the Season of Spring, also known as the Spring (vernal) Equinox. And falls on March 20th.  

Autumn Equinox is also known as the Autumnal (fall) Equinox is the first day of the Season of Autumn.  The Autumn Equinox occurs the moment the Sun crosses the celestial Equator from North or South. This day is September 22th.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Ribcaged Birds



With birds fluttering smartly
around in my ribcage; bushing their wings against my lungs and down my stomach when I look at her;

I smile as an owl sitting behind my ear, and whisper that Mayday has come and gone. But they are here to stay. Inside my chest to make a feathered nest around my heart,

to Keep it safe for the light, kind, and giving.
and protect it from the dishonest, consumer and all consuming dark.

Daily Rituals to Support Mindfulness

“Transition Moments” invite us to be mindful in small pauses throughout the day. The use of Daily Ritual invites us to be mindful in routine tasks, thus transforming the mundane into something meaningful. We learn to see that there are no ordinary moments in life; every moment is sacred and deeply spiritual if we are open to changing how we relate to those moments.

“When every moment is rich with eternal significance, there is neither the lingering clinging to the dead past, nor a longing expectation for the future, but an integral living in the eternal now.”  ~ Meher Baba

The 12 Laws of Karma


Karmic Painting by Horacio Cardozo
 

  1. THE GREAT LAW - As you sow, so shall you reap. This is also known as the Law of Cause and Effect. Whatever we put out in the Universe is what comes back to us. If what we want is happiness, peace, friendship, love…Then we should BE happy, peaceful, loving, a friend. Negative energy sent out to others will come back to you 10 fold
  2. THE LAW OF CREATION - Life doesn’t just HAPPEN, it requires our participation. We are one with the Universe both inside and out. Whatever surrounds us gives us clues to our inner state. BE and DO yourself what you want to have in your life.
  3. THE LAW OF HUMILITY - What you refuse to accept, will continue for you. If what we see is an enemy, or someone with a character trait that we find to be negative, then we ourselves are not focused on a higher level of existence.
  4. THE LAW OF GROWTH - Wherever you go, there you are. For us to GROW in Spirit it is WE who must change and not the people, places or things around us. The only given we have in our lives is OURSELVES, and that is the only factor we have control over. When we change who and what we are within our heart, our life changes too.
  5. THE LAW OF RESPONSIBILITY - Whenever there is something wrong, there is something wrong in me. We mirror what surrounds us and what surrounds us mirrors us: we must take responsibility for what is in our life.
  6. THE LAW OF CONNECTION - Even if something we do seems inconsequential, it is very important that it gets done as everything in the Universe is connected. Each step leads to the next step and so forth and so on. Someone must do the initial work to get a job done. Neither the first step nor the last are of greater significance-they were both needed to accomplish the task. Past, Present, Future…they are all connected…
  7. THE LAW OF FOCUS - You can’t think of two things at the same time. You should climb up a ladder on step at a time. When you lose your focus you let in insecurities and anger.
  8. THE LAW OF GIVING AND HOSPITALITY - If you believe something to be true, then sometime in your life you will be called upon to demonstrate that truth. Here is where we put what we SAY that we have learned into PRACTICE.
  9. THE LAW OF HERE AND NOW - Looking back to examine what was prevents us from being totally in the HERE AND NOW. Old thoughts, old patterns of behavior, old dreams…Prevent us from having new ones.
  10. THE LAW OF CHANGE - History repeats itself until we learn the lessons that we need to change our path.
  11. THE LAW OF PATIENCE AND REWARD - All Rewards require initial toil. Rewards of lasting value require patient and persistent toil. True joy follows doing what we’re suppose to be doing, and waiting for the reward to come in it’s own time.
  12. THE LAW OF SIGNIFICANCE AND INSPIRATION - You get back from something whatever you’ve put into it. The value of something is a direct result of the energy and intent that is put into it. Every personal contribution is also a contribution to the Whole. Lack luster contributions have no impact on the Whole or work to diminish it.

Gillian Hanscombe, from An Intimate Wilderness: Lesbian Writers on Sexuality.

“It’s when two women fall in love with each other that lives are transformed, mountains moved, dormant strengths discovered, enhanced and magnified. And falling in love can’t be manipulated, either by one’s own wiIl, or by a culture of erotica. Falling in love has little to do with what is outside us. Nothing falls on me from above. I do the falling; and so does she. We fall towards one another, trusting in trust, believing that the nakedness of the body indeed images the nakedness of the dreams and theories, the tempests and the narratives, that we are prepared to reveal. And the mystery of the continuity of passion lies in the capacity of the other, the partner, and in oneself, to be endless, to be never completely claimed, to be never utterly known. That capacity for endlessness, for change, is what is energised by passion. Truly shared sexuality changes us, over and over, more powerfully than almost anything else.” — “In Among the Market Forces?”