I found this in one of my emails. It sounds like it will be a positive shift for people. Elon Musk is also looking to colonize Mars, apparently. An interesting fellow.
Why Tesla’s Battery for Your Home Should Terrify Utilities
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Saturday, February 21, 2015
The Monster Inside of Me
I realized the other day that I have a monster inside of me. I have been trying and trying (with mixed success) to keep it quiet and corpulent by frequent feedings of sugary things for 47 or so years. It is black and oozy, with slimy rolls of dripping fat and primordial ick. It has long sticky fingers that corrupt what it touches, and it can change shape if it needs to. It's voice is a scratchy whisper that reminds me of fingernails on a chalkboard, or the sound of a dull knife cutting styrofoam. Even the thought of hearing it now gives me the shivers.
I almost remember the day it was spawned...I hear these words from a place deep inside me- so deep I can't see into the darkness of it, but the words travel up through me, and I can almost see it, myself, as such a wee little girl.
...'He finished sodomizing me and I was weeping silently. He pulled up his pants, buttoned the fly and squatted down beside me on the bed. He said "You did this to me sweetheart," as he ran his fingers through my hair and wiped the sweat and tears off my face, oh-so-gently. "This was all your fault." I looked up at him and thought "He is so big and I am so little. I must be a monster if I can make a him into a mean man and hurt me. I must be a very bad monster." And so this is, I believe, the genesis of my *monster*.
Bloated and empty
always hungry
always hurting
growling and growling
for more and more and
more
monster inside of me
I almost remember the day it was spawned...I hear these words from a place deep inside me- so deep I can't see into the darkness of it, but the words travel up through me, and I can almost see it, myself, as such a wee little girl.
...'He finished sodomizing me and I was weeping silently. He pulled up his pants, buttoned the fly and squatted down beside me on the bed. He said "You did this to me sweetheart," as he ran his fingers through my hair and wiped the sweat and tears off my face, oh-so-gently. "This was all your fault." I looked up at him and thought "He is so big and I am so little. I must be a monster if I can make a him into a mean man and hurt me. I must be a very bad monster." And so this is, I believe, the genesis of my *monster*.
Bloated and empty
always hungry
always hurting
growling and growling
for more and more and
more
monster inside of me
Monday, August 12, 2013
Saturday, August 10, 2013
All the World's Religions...
We found this graphic
representation of the
world's religions here on
The Monkey Buddha blog.
It's a great snapshot and
can provide a nice starting
point for people to
understand world belief
systems.
To see the full-size
graphic, click here.
representation of the
world's religions here on
The Monkey Buddha blog.
It's a great snapshot and
can provide a nice starting
point for people to
understand world belief
systems.
To see the full-size
graphic, click here.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
A Night of Wonder...
Steven
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
I spy with my little eye... or Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
I am going to be 50 this year. 50. And I think that I have struggled
with weight/body issues since the moment I realized I was separate from
my mother..
I thought she was gloriously beautiful and perfect...until I heard her sobbing about her own 'imperfections' while looking in the mirror. And since little girls learn who they are by what they see in their mother's eyes, all I saw, all I learned, was that I was somehow 'imperfect' too. Flawed. Ugly. Not right. Because if she wasn't okay, that had to mean neither was I.
When I hit puberty, it was even worse; instead of just 'feeling' fat, I put on weight. Oh, I know all girls do just before they begin menstruating, but to me, it made me not just ugly, flawed, and not right, but fat and ungainly, too. That's when my eating disorder started. When my mother told me "You have such a pretty face. You need to do something about the rest of your body. Why can't you look more like your sister?" I stopped eating anything but apples and popcorn for the next couple of years...until I learned that I could eat eat eat! And then puke it up!
I spent the next 10 years bulimic. There I was, 5' 9" weighing 115 pounds, and finally Finally being told that I looked 'cute'. It took a toll on my body that I am paying for now. Chronic conditions that will never go away because I thought I had to be skinny to be loveable. To be worthwhile. To be wanted and liked.
I am finally at a place in my life where I am not 'waiting' to be thin or *pretty* for my life to be good and to have value.. Where I am learning to be confident in who I am as the woman who lives in this body. To be grateful and thankful even that I am strong enough to walk and swim and laugh and love without being embarrassed by my belly and my breasts. I don't automatically say "Oh my flippin' god! I look like Omar the tent-makers model!" or " Don't look at my ID- I look like an adult male orangutan on it." anymore.
I had a real 'ah-ha' moment a few month ago. I realized that when the people I love see me in pictures they aren't saying "Oh My God! Look at how fat Gina is!!" Nope. They are saying "Look at how much love is there in her eyes and on the baby's face." "I love her smile. I love her!" See, they don't 'see' the fat, ugly, unworthy-of-love me that I do. They see the Mother, Sister, Auntie, Nana that I am, and they love me just because. Not because of my weight, my educational status, or even my hair cut.. *smiling*
If they can do it, then so can I. Maybe, if I say it often enough, I will erase those old tapes in my head with new, improved versions. Maybe. Given enough time.
Thought follows action follows thought. So, we will see. I am on a journey of self-acceptance and body-image love. *fingers crossed* I hope I can find them. I really really do. I hope you do, too.
I thought she was gloriously beautiful and perfect...until I heard her sobbing about her own 'imperfections' while looking in the mirror. And since little girls learn who they are by what they see in their mother's eyes, all I saw, all I learned, was that I was somehow 'imperfect' too. Flawed. Ugly. Not right. Because if she wasn't okay, that had to mean neither was I.
When I hit puberty, it was even worse; instead of just 'feeling' fat, I put on weight. Oh, I know all girls do just before they begin menstruating, but to me, it made me not just ugly, flawed, and not right, but fat and ungainly, too. That's when my eating disorder started. When my mother told me "You have such a pretty face. You need to do something about the rest of your body. Why can't you look more like your sister?" I stopped eating anything but apples and popcorn for the next couple of years...until I learned that I could eat eat eat! And then puke it up!
I spent the next 10 years bulimic. There I was, 5' 9" weighing 115 pounds, and finally Finally being told that I looked 'cute'. It took a toll on my body that I am paying for now. Chronic conditions that will never go away because I thought I had to be skinny to be loveable. To be worthwhile. To be wanted and liked.
I am finally at a place in my life where I am not 'waiting' to be thin or *pretty* for my life to be good and to have value.. Where I am learning to be confident in who I am as the woman who lives in this body. To be grateful and thankful even that I am strong enough to walk and swim and laugh and love without being embarrassed by my belly and my breasts. I don't automatically say "Oh my flippin' god! I look like Omar the tent-makers model!" or " Don't look at my ID- I look like an adult male orangutan on it." anymore.
I had a real 'ah-ha' moment a few month ago. I realized that when the people I love see me in pictures they aren't saying "Oh My God! Look at how fat Gina is!!" Nope. They are saying "Look at how much love is there in her eyes and on the baby's face." "I love her smile. I love her!" See, they don't 'see' the fat, ugly, unworthy-of-love me that I do. They see the Mother, Sister, Auntie, Nana that I am, and they love me just because. Not because of my weight, my educational status, or even my hair cut.. *smiling*
If they can do it, then so can I. Maybe, if I say it often enough, I will erase those old tapes in my head with new, improved versions. Maybe. Given enough time.
Thought follows action follows thought. So, we will see. I am on a journey of self-acceptance and body-image love. *fingers crossed* I hope I can find them. I really really do. I hope you do, too.
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