philosophy

281: I Wish It So

| Aspergers Girls

The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they’re alive. 

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I Wish It So

I choose love. I promote love. I radiate love.

I choose honesty. I promote honesty. I radiate honesty.

I choose hope. I promote hope. I radiate hope.

I choose leadership over victimization.

I choose knowledge over ignorance.

I choose to vanquish all negative thoughts.

I choose to reflect the goodness of the world.

When I feel lost I will point the way for someone else.

When I feel alone I will assist those in isolation.

When I sense hopelessness and despair, I will rise out of the ashes of my own tears and shine brightly.

I refuse to be anything less than authentic, genuine, and real.

I refuse to believe that happiness exists in anything or anyone.

I accept I am enough, and that where I am is where I need to be.

When all about me voices are tarnishing and raping the beauty of life, I shall stand up strong in my worth.

I shall not falter; I shall not fail: for these words no longer exist in my vocabulary.

My voice is my truth and my truth my voice.

What is spoken is from source and heart alone, and what is left unsaid I release into the abyss to be transformed into stars.

I, myself, am fiery passion. I shall not allow shame to shadow my cause; nor shall I allow my cause to shadow my passion.

I am in completion entirely, perfection in my mind, body, and soul.

All else deemed wrong or incorrect is an illusion.

I surround myself with people who love me and choose to see me as a source of beauty.

I surround myself with the innocent of heart and warriors of purpose. A purpose that is not singular onto themselves, but collective for the good of the all.

I quench my insatiable desire for more, knowing I have enough.

I stop in my steps, still within, and acknowledge the blessings around me.

I know who I am, what I am, and why I am.

I refuse to let anyone else create me into another.

I shall not fail myself, nor my sister or brother. When I follow the light, I cannot fail.

I sacrifice myself as a vessel, knowing my sacrifice further grows my love and my light.

I cannot be vanquished or put out. There is nowhere I can be placed where I will not shine. There is no punishment that shall whip the light out of me, and equally no man to extinguish my flame.

I stand, whether alone or together, as an equal to my fellow beings, in the line of any happenstance.

I trust my road is paved with the intention of wholeness and the gifts of peace.

I trust my truth to be my guide.

I shall not be weak and suffer, for there is nothing I cannot transform into joy.

I am but clay, and I choose moment by moment to mold myself into a shape of glory.

Where my edges were once sharp, now they are dull.

Where whispers once haunted, now there is silence.

Where distaste erupted, now there is sweetness.

I see no ill will inside of another. I see no blame. I see no wrong. I see only myself standing as observer.

My scope is neither limiting nor vast; my vision is only as I wish. If I choose to see the narrowness of man, then that is what shall appear before me. If I choose to see the limitlessness of love, then this is what shall bathe me.

When I splash in your goodness, I too splash in my own.

Together we are united; yet even in times of distance and separation, I remain with you.

For I have carved you into the vessel of myself; each blade inflicted so that I may carry you in times of isolation.  I do not ask that you carry me in return, but that you only let yourself shine, so that I may be warmed within your love.

If there ever comes a time I am unable to answer you with warmth, trust that I am cold, and offer me comfort.

If there ever comes a time I am unable to answer you with laughter, trust that I am dancing with sorrow, so that I may emerge reborn with further joy.

Trust that I am here to love you for no other reason than to love.

Trust there is nothing you can do or say that will tarnish my love for you.

For I have seen my beauty, and know this beauty was birthed in you.

You are my form doubled and multiplied. You are blessed and my blessing.

There is no end and no beginning; you are infinitely adored and beseeched for your goodness.

When you feel depleted, ask yourself whom or what you have given your power to. And return this power onto yourself ten-fold. Believe you are of worth and feed your own soul so you may be nurtured and whole in your journey of light.

Step outside the fantasy of tomorrow and yesterday, and breathe in the moment of now, for there is nothing outside of this moment.

If ever there comes a time that you are in doubt, reach out your hand and know I am waiting to take hold, to touch what is both me, and not me, an intricate creation that both lives and breathes within and without me.

I am nothing but your sister, your brother, but in this I am everything. And as I am everything, so thusly be you.

Do not bow your head in the misery of the world, instead lift up your eyes to the miracles of life. Search for me in the echoes of the valleys, in the sunrise and sunset, in the flight and in the fallen. Search for me, and I will answer.

There is no one before me more worthy than you, and no one else less than you and your needing. For we are filled with hope when we recognize we exist as hope.

In everything we do, be hope.

In everything you are, be beauty.

You have the power to change all for the betterment of creation.

You only need wish it so.

~ Samantha Craft December 2012

230222_10200113076419761_288173699_n

267: Cats and Dogs and Penis Envy

| Aspergers Girls

I awoke before four in the morning today with words and images twirling nonstop in my mind. I felt like a giant lollipop being dipped in the swirls of sweet wisdom.  Although I was sleepy, and wanting to fall back into a deep slumber, I was made awake, wrapped spiritually in what could essentially be called a lesson review of sorts.

The images and thoughts came swiftly, and with a touch of deliberate humor, ended with memories of my first college course, where I sat a plum-faced, shy freshman girl, surrounded by upper classmen. I had signed up for Psychology of Human Sexuality Course on a whim, having had no clue that the course would actually be about real sex!

I giggled this early morn, as the lesson dancing in my head wrapped up, and I was reminded of the term penis envy, a popular belief back in the early days of my schooling: the thought that many of women’s psychological insecurities are caused by their subconscious desire to have the same package as men.

I chuckled inside at the memory of class, of going around in a circle, and each of us female members of the group describing our degree of envy. Back then, I was so malleable, still am, that any belief system set upon me, I innocently absorbed as truth. Thusly, I went around for many years thinking I wanted to grow male stuff.

Today, in the wee hours of the morn, as the lesson began, with my mind’s eye, I saw numerous dogs and cats posed in various ways in their silly hats and wearing their silly expressions. And then I saw a massive amount of other animals, starting with the more common American pets of snakes, turtles, and hamsters, and ending with pigs and rats, and even monkeys. The debate came to my mind between cat lovers and dog lovers, and then I saw how silly the debate was. I saw that as a society we created these pets as our favorites, and then divided the camps. I thought about why they were our favorites: cuddly, responsive, expressive, fairly clean and predictable, sensitive, and perhaps even thoughtful.

And then I thought that the love of dogs and cats was all by choice, that as a collective we could easily have chosen a pig and a rat as our favorite pets, that instead of cats and dogs that pigs and rats could be there in their place…perhaps in another time or universe.

I began to visualize the various poses of pigs in their holiday wear and with their big eyes, and with captions written across their photos. I could see the rats too, all decked out for the season, with jingle bell vests, and more. It wasn’t such a leap out of our current reality.

In truth, much of what happens is all about what we as a whole choose to make our reality.

Then I realized that the expectations we have upon animals do actually affect the behavior of the overall species. With millions of people thinking dogs are awesomely friendly, no wonder they walk around with goofy grins and wagging tails. I imagine that if the collective believed all natural brunettes were brilliant, fascinating, and someone to aspire to be, I would walk around with my bum shaking a bit too, with goofy smile to boot.

I began to wonder what would happen if we replaced all the cats and dogs (temporarily and in theory only) with two other animals. I visualized the majority of pet owners with a snake at their side, cuddling during a television show, with the turtle tucked under the covers with their owner at bedtime.  And the thoughts didn’t seem so farfetched; for with enough conditioning and collective belief, we have the potential to mold any species’ behavior.

I had intense laughable visuals of a pet owner holding their ant farm during a movie or even housing a bee’s nest in their home and keeping a window open for free access to the fields. I began to see how anything was possible, if enough people believed or accepted a norm. This is evident from culture to culture, when considering what animals are revered, accepted as pets, or eaten for supper.

These thoughts led to the concept of ownership, and the fact that most domesticated dogs are entirely dependent upon their owner. I imagined what that dependency must feel like for dogs, how they must wonder when the food will come, the fresh water, the walks, the grooming, the holding, the words “good dog.” How they live their lives essentially as a prisoner to their master’s behavior, wherein the pet is entirely dependent on what their owner does.

I began to think that perhaps this dependency could cause some dogs a type of sadness, as I believe was in the case of my Goldendoodle, Scooby. For the first couple years of Scooby’s life, Scoob appeared mostly sad and withdrawn, until we brought home another dog. Then his spirit lit up and he seemed to come alive. But then he fell into another sadness spell, shortly after we moved to Washington, and he had less of a yard for roaming. He began to crave walks, and beg for walks, and on the days there were no walks, he sat in the corner forlorn. Scoob also despised all dog food. Most of his days he set about to steal whatever people food he could from out of the sink or atop the stove—like some grizzly bear at a picnic. He was adorable, but primarily a sad pup. Being empathetic to animals, I always sought to cheer him up, through fur massages and rough housing with a stuffed toy, even dancing to music. Still, he seemed to feel as if he was trapped in a life I ordained for him, that I ran, that I created.

This thought led me to the idea of the human experience, that we, too, as a people, have our own masters: our accepted beliefs; and that in truth, the only thing we can control, as many ancient teachings state, are our thoughts.

I suppose my Scooby didn’t have that capacity—to control his thoughts. Instead all he could see at certain times was missed opportunity. Even on the days we walked, he longed for more. Perhaps he would have been the happiest on a ranch estate. Perhaps if he’d had the capacity to daydream, that is where he went, to the golden fields where he could run until his legs gave out beneath him. I like to think that is where he is now, with a perpetual wet-nosed smile upon his face.

From here my thoughts turned to the social taboos of societies. It was at the age of eighteen, in that human sexuality college course, I first learned about how a society actually creates what is socially acceptable. I remember pondering about the collective creating ideals of rights and wrong, popular and unpopular, and loved and unloved.

The way my professor explained social taboo, forever stayed in my mind. The professor asked the class to visualize a planet in which it was socially unacceptable to eat in front of another person; to imagine a place where you were only allowed to eat in private or with a special significant other, a world in which people ate in the dark of their bedrooms, even under the covers; a place where chewing in public was seen as vulgar and disgusting, and punishable by law. My professor explained about how the body opening of the mouth was only to be used for practical purposes in public: for breathing, drinking, and talking. Laughing was a risk, for the mouth might open too wide.

This other world’s eating taboo he then compared to sexual intercourse and the naked flesh taboos of this world.

I remember then that a light bulb turned on in my mind. It was in that classroom I understood that much of what I was told and much of what was modeled were based on a collective’s culture and belief system, and that I was living in a world with unpredictable and shifting values.

In theory what was a norm that day and what was deemed taboo at the same moment would shift with the passing of time. I remember feeling extreme discomfort. I recall analyzing the current taboos of the time, particularly mixed-race marriage and homosexuality. I concluded that in time people’s views would shift, and as a whole our outlook and perception would change, that the unacceptable would become accepted, or at least move in the direction of the majority accepting.

The reality of the collective establishing truth boggled my mind. I could see clearly how I was a part of the collective and even though I was aware that I lived in a society that created truths and rights and wrongs, that even with my awareness I was continually molded by these created truths. I was in essence powerless.

I wondered where the truth really rested, how I could reach it, and how would I know.

I recognized that at a certain level, beyond conscious awareness, I was affected by what others accepted as truth. I recognized ultimately I was affected by what others thought. Living on this planet, the collective belief system was to a degree always to be a cornerstone of my own belief system—their reality, my reality; their conclusions, my conclusions.

I innately knew, I wouldn’t be able to fully grasp multi-dimensions, the supernatural, and the magic of the world, until the majority accepted this as a possibility, but that even then, whatever was believed and grasped onto by the whole could and would once again shift.

I was a dependent part of an intricate and mind-blowing mechanism, no less and no more, and entirely unable to escape. In a sense, I was my dog, my Scooby, waiting in my chair to see what the masters did.

It wasn’t until this morning, through all of these aforementioned thoughts that manifested in a span of twenty-minutes, that I recognized what was happening to me with more clarity: a shift was occurring.

More and more people were expanding their awareness and understanding of the illusion of the world and the power of thought, and thusly so was I.

november-walk

256: Old Enough To Know

| Aspergers Girls

Old Enough To Know

I am old enough to know that though I am the snowflake, unique and divine, I too melt into the familiar element of water.

I am old enough to know that I am seen by eyes of discernment and reason, divided and mixed into an illusion by the creator.

I am old enough to know that in a world of invented polarities, that if chance lives, then so must destiny.

I am old enough to know that to hold my deepest carved pain is to embrace the manifestation of sorrow as majestic joy set a slumber.

I am old enough to know that what I put inside comes out, and thusly, what I put out enters within.

I am old enough to know that I exist in the meeting point between question and answer, a universal foundation behind an imaginary zero.

I am old enough to know that I am thought, put together into a recognizable form based on experience.

I am old enough to know that I heal from without, by reaching beyond the limitless of accepting into the recognition of collective.

I am old enough to know that if time were to exist then I be but a child aged backwards.

I am old enough to know that truth exists in the absence of all sense and the absence of thought.

I am old enough to know that through the windows beyond the depths of my molecular structure, I am old enough to know.

~~~ By Samantha Craft, November 21, 2012

Dear Lord,

What do you want from me? I have endured so much suffering on so many levels for so very long, and I have remained loyal and faithful and true. I have never betrayed you or your wishes. I have continued to try my best, and try and try. I have prayed. I have wept. I have fallen down again and again. Even when I could not feel you, I rose up again and carried on. I am light. I know this. But I am darkness. And the darkness engulfs and strangles and terrifies, the intensity unnerving and never-ending. Tormented in dreams, in thoughts, in knowings. Seeing things others cannot. I am not an angel. I am not without end. I am not infinity. There is a point within me that ends. I feel it. I feel the wall, the pressure and the might of the world upon me. I cannot play these games of war, where I am both the feud and the field, trampled upon by my own doing. There is so much of me, that I swim and drown, and come up again breathless for your love. And you reach down, and hold, only I cannot feel you or know you—some form of absence you be. All around me are vibrations and energies and touch, a rhythm, and endless rhythm of three. You haunt me with the comings of protest and acceptance, of looking and revealing, of touching and stinging, of turmoil released, to only reveal more turmoil. I am layered and then layered again. The filling between me sectioned with micro-prisms of expansion. I am universe upon universe. I am told the secrets and the whispers, hearing the righteous words; yet walking alone. The treasure is thick and burdensome, and unfamiliar to strangers. I am mocked for what I carry or accepted for my secrets alone. My beauty is skin deep when draped in the mystery of you. They want not what they see, but what they feel, and I am made to weep as a vessel forgotten. I have pleaded, this small delicate one, from the insides of canvased walls, a babe weeping to her master. I have cried upon the fabric of night, the casing decorating my very soul, as tears carry away the mystery thus revealed. Humbled and humbled again, and still yet I beg for humility. A prideful veil I wear to match those with which I walk. I am moved asunder, beckoned by truth, yet ever made to be this flesh. For whatever it takes, I am yours. For whatever it takes, I am—as a wrecking ball upon myself, I crash and crush, decimating the horror within. I reach, further into desert soul, to bring out another upon another of mystery unknown and unspoken. And still you come, with chain and ball, to set the ways upon me, this child forlorn.

Day 224: The Screaming World

| Aspergers Girls

The Screaming World

The lady with the neckbrace, a result of some accident I’m guessing, stood at the corner of the sidewalk, screaming. Her partner, joined in, only more light-heartedly.

“Oh, good for you! Just drive through! Did you not see my brace? What the fu** is wrong with you?” the lady shouted. She looked like an Italian in the middle of a full-blown rage, the way her arms were tackling the sky and her body enveloped in emotion, only she was very white and freckle-covered, and likely not European at all.

Yes, I noticed a lot in a few seconds. I tend to—to take in a whole movie in a matter of no time at all. That’s me. And I guess that’s what made the occurrence that much more troubling.

I’ve been processing this scene of the outraged, neck-braced caucasian in my mind for three days now, and have come to the conclusion of why the situation bothered me so. It comes down to fear, and how, as a result of fear, humans often assume the worst about other people.

In terms of fearing others, most people with Aspergers are over-trusting, at least for the start of their life; until they are more than likely hurt by not one but a multitude of people; primarily because others exhibit actions and behaviors the person on the ASD spectrum did not count on, and perhaps wasn’t able to understand. However, for the most part, individuals with Aspergers start out very trusting; and even after continual “let downs” and hurts, they tend to remain trusting, despite their best efforts to emulate the anti-trust phenomenon all around them.

I used to think I lacked an ability to adjust and adapt to the surrounding societal roles and values of fearing others. Now I believe the attribute to over-trust is a spirit-born gift and an ability to transform our world.

Throughout my life, I’ve been warned by various people not to over trust, not to be naive, not to expect that another will be there for me. And especially not to expose myself. I was taught through experience, and from others, that if I was myself I would be rejected, shunned, compartmentalized and ostracized. I am still warned, that if I over-share, people will have more ammunition to use against me. In essence, I have been taught, through experience, example, and through others’ cautionary words, to not trust and to not be myself.

What a terrible way to live: to carry within my being a perpetual fear of being me because I might be hurt.

But that is my world at this instant.

Despite the warnings and potentially looming dangers, I have made the conscious decision to be me.

I know enough to understand that no matter the preparation and shielding, the pretending and hiding, that ultimately people cannot escape fear; and that the fear does not reside outside in the scary world, but inside in the choice to not be real, and the fallout of non-genuineness that causes people to lose touch with who they are.

In looking at fear-based living, what is troubling, beyond the potential loss of self-understanding and authenticity, is the way society perpetuates fear.

Today, I readily view the fear indoctrination through our media, big business, and government. Although, with the sharing of beds, big business, media, and government, are potentially all one ancestral family.

Presently fear is perpetuated through the bombardment of looming cancer. Even at the amusement park, I went to yesterday, there was a huge  pink ribbon symbolising breast cancer awareness painted on the concrete. And the whole ride was painted pink. When I shop, I am asked to support cancer research. When I drive down the freeway, I see billboards about sickness and cancer. When I turn on the radio, television, or read a magazine, I view cancer, cancer, cancer.

My world is painted with the fear of cancer. It’s not that I am against awareness or finding a cure; it’s that I am against fear. Or not even against it, but tired of fear being put on a throne set upon a pedestal. Tired of fear being the foundation of my society.

Fear has been indoctrinated into my mind since I was born. American born and bred, I arrived fresh and innocent into a world that had for over a decade already been pushing fear into society to encourage others to buy, buy, buy, to stimulate the economic market. Then it was only television that reminded my generation and the ones before and after me to buy to subside fear. Now everything is media. I can’t go anywhere, beyond the beauty and grace of the forest, without the fear-factor.

And cancer research and awareness are not the answers, nor the solutions to our problems. The problem is literally the problems—the view and bombardment set upon us that everything is a problem.

And in considering these presented problems, we already have solutions, solutions echoed by the Native Americans long before us. Cancer is not the disease and enemy. Cancer is merely a result of our overly polluted environment: the toxins in our food, water, air, and prescription drugs. The disconnection and disrespect for our environment and nature. The disconnection from ourselves.

Food has become our poison. Much of what is added to our processed foods, in the form of corn syrup, in mutated form, is actually classified by the companies themselves as pesticide. It seems rather simple to me, a first step in fighting cancer and illness, would be to stop selling pesticides disguised as food.

Also, in America, it is fact that economically deprived neighborhoods don’t even have grocery stores. There are no opportunities to buy fruits and vegetables. Why? Because grocery store establishments have deemed the low-income areas non-profitable and have as a result pulled out of those neighborhoods. Cancer, diabetes, and obesity are on the rise everywhere, but particularly in the areas where the people are under-educated and living at poverty-level. In these neighborhoods, the giant fast food industries move in to make up for the lacking. So our young generation is being fast-food fed on mutated, poor grade meat and poultry, loaded with chemicals and over treated in fat and oils, and are without the money to travel to find a store with real food, and without the education or mind-energy fueled by nutrients to know better. Suddenly a corn-fed, antibiotic, disease-ridden, slaughtered mixture of multiple cows added with toxins, additives, overly processed oils, and fat, has become the staple meal of the poor. Suddenly an apple is deemed not as nutritious as poison. Or not so suddenly, in actuality, I suppose.

So what does this have to do with trusting my fellow human or the lady on the street screaming?

First off, the lady was yelling because there was a misinterpretation. I thought she wanted me to drive through the crosswalk, that she wasn’t ready to cross the street. She thought I was going to wait. And then she went further to think that my intention was to be inconsiderate and down right rude. She chose to see the worst in me, to believe I didn’t care about her, that I wasn’t willing to bother to stop. She chose not to trust me.

And that bothers me, because the more I think about it, the more I realize, as a collective we don’t trust. We have been raised a fear-based, paranoid society, made to fret over each moment of our day, to wonder what traumatic event will befall us, and to spend our last dime in creating a reality around us of distractions and comforts in hopes of diminishing our fear. We carry an emptiness around that we believe at moments can be filled with food or material goods. We believe solutions are found in a pill, not in nature. We believe the only way out of turmoil is through polluting our environment more through consumerism and over spending. We carry an urgency for a way out and not a way in.

We have been taught to live a life escaping death, escaping loneliness, and avoiding ugliness.

We have been taught that we are dying, we are unworthy, and that we are ugly.

We have been taught we are wrong and in need of fixing.

We have been taught to give of ourselves completely in the wealth of our minds, our bodies, our spirit, and currency, in order to be fixed.

We are trapped in a cycle of fear feeding fear, trying to fix that which was never broken with placebos that only injure at every level.

We are ready to return to the spirit, who knows awareness without fear.

We are ready to stop fighting and fearing and to become aware that we no longer need to build our world on a foundation of fear.

Because despite all of this indoctrinated fear, this misshapen world that has been painted onto our souls, some of us still carry hope. Some of us still trust. Some of us are not afraid to be our true selves, to shine and be authentic no matter the imaginary threat.

Despite the lies we  have been told, the trickery, the sadness, and devastation, we can choose to not fear, to see the light in people. We can continue to carry hope wherever we travel. We have the spirit-given eyes to see through the illusions, to know that this reality is temporary, that we are in transition, and that together we can transform our reality into a place of soul awareness.

This fear can be leached out and drained away, the more we pour in love and truth.

We must see the lady on the street screaming as pure beauty in disguise.  An instigator of change. A symbol of our screaming world. An obvious sign that the world is not happy and not trusting.

We can choose to look at the person screaming out as the innocent submerged in the sea of sadness perpetuated by the ongoing waves of fear and mistrust.

We can bring her out with a gentle hand to the shore and let her shine.

But first we must crawl out of submersion ourselves and stand in the light of authentic being.

Day 208: Attention: Nutter Virus! No Cure!

| Aspergers Girls

 

Nutter: Brit slang for a mad or eccentric person

YOU may be a Nutter if…….

1)      You have lost the desire to fix because none are broken

2)      You reflect authenticity in your words and actions

3)      You forgive all and everything

4)      You take the path of least resistance

5)      You accept your being as perfect and divine

6)      You understand that you do not have the answers

7)      You utilize discernment and release judgment

8)      You seek to know another’s ideas and opinions

9)      You are comfortable with those who do not share your point of view

10)   You  convince none to see  your way

11)   You feel unmoved to defend when you hear beliefs you do not uphold

12)   You are dynamic in your soft and gentle ways

13)   You are a child at heart

14)   You understand that right and wrong are naught

15)   Your self-importance has yielded, died, and been reborn as acceptance

16)   You understand popularity shifts like the sands in an hourglass, depending on the time and angle

17)   You have no need to share your accomplishments, to brag, to boost your esteem, to show off

18)   You desire for all beings to be at peace but know you must begin with you

19)   You sense the energy behind words, actions, and thoughts

20)   You understand the more you feed the lion with anger, the more he grows in rage

21)   You understand the more you feed the ghosts of desire, the louder they haunt

22)   You see your reflection in every person

23)   You see the light which blinds illusions of darkness

24)   You experience letting go

25)   You have a difficult time remembering what to worry about

26)   You know that nothing is real beyond your thoughts, though intangible they be

27)   You see yourself watching your self; step back as the observer, to observe the observer observing the observer

28)   You forgive before the thought of anger arises

29)   You have urges to talk to strangers because they exist

30)   You pray for humility and love

31)   You willingly sacrifice your happiness to assist one

32)   You love the unfamiliar man as much as the familiar son

33)   You love the unfamiliar pain as much as the familiar joy

34)   You recognize there are no boundaries outside of self

35)   You realize your life is a reflection of your desire

36)   You know that it is easier to smile than to frown

37)   You no longer pick yourself up; you simply roll over and smile at the moment

38)   You embrace all life in all forms

39)   You hear the trees whisper

40)   You release expectation

41)   You rejoice in the moment

42)   You see the layers of your mind

43)   You know you are no more or less than all

44)   You give fully and completely

45)   You focus on what is working

46)   You encourage joy and happiness

47)   You find yourself looking for beneficial news

48)   You see through others’ eyes

49)   You speak to connect

50)   You count and share your blessings

51)   You cease searching for flaws

52)   You are stable even as the singular mind ebbs and flows

53)   You know you are interconnectedness

54)   You are calm in your unfolding

55)   You do not require validation of your worth

56)   You have sudden urges to create without need of recognition

57)   You can hear your own voice cheering

58)   You listen to the voice beneath the voice, the need beneath the need, the want beneath the want

59)   You move in the world without manipulation, ill-will or deception

60)   You shine bright and bold

61)   You radiate acceptance and provide a safe haven

62)   You know suffering cannot be categorized

63)   You remove all pride

64)   You no longer dream of success

65)   You embrace all emotions and all facets of being

66)   You hunger for knowledge, until you accept there is only the still voice within

67)   You have moments of overwhelming joy interwoven within an abiding inner calmness

68)   Every sound is your symphony

69)   Every person your story

70)   Every word life

~ Samantha Craft, August 2012