The sadness of Beauty

Recently I wrote a book entitled “Beautifully Tragic”  It depicts a character who has to endure unbearable truths in order to regain some resemblance of clarity and reason as to who they are. One day I know I will have it published, but for now it sits upon my desk like a compilation of journal entries.

Yesterday after speaking with my Reiki Master she said something so strikingly beautiful to me.

“Some people of this world are not so rooted in their karmic paths and as a result they are almost like empty vessels who absorb yet another persona without distinction of what role they should be. In their emptiness they are able to encompass many roles without judgement of what role is more or less and play this role to the fullest, like an actor who only plays it for the greater good of the ongoing movie of the universe. Today you are a nurse and tomorrow you are a drug addict, simply because this too is your role. Their is incredible beauty that fills you up by having this perception, but also depletes you in the sadness of this perception. To live in a world where most are deeply rooted in their roles they play in life, it can leave someone who is not, to feel alien or isolated. There is nothing to identify themselves with, or relate to in the comparison of how the world really is. It then becomes a bigger burden to bear when one sees that all roles played are really a facade. And then the question remains is, what is real and what is illusion”

This dialog we were having, was as a result of many questions spinning in my mind. I had an event that left me crying for days trying to sort out the unexplainable surge of emotions I was having. Just a week ago my son raced through our door screaming in the tone of a death call. It sent me reeling to my feet to greet him, away from my daughters bedroom where we both were emerged in the delivery of a still born kitten from our mama cat. As I met him in our living room, he was holding his head as blood gushed everywhere, covering the tops of his shoes in little drops. He was joined by two other concerned children by his side, who began to tell the story of how my son was hit in the head by a rock from another child. Once I was able to calm my child down, I inspected the wound and found it was not at all serious then it looked. We then as a family, myself him and his sister, marched down to this child’s home to confront this child and inform the parent of what had happened. The mother was out of town and the child frightened by his actions, was hiding in the neighborhood. We were greeted by the child’s grandmother who acted very aloof to the situation and said nothing even after I proclaimed that this child needed counseling and he was not to ever be around my child again. We then went home, retreating to our kitchen to make baja fish tacos and finished cleaning the rest of the blood from his body and the wound. I took all necessary precautions one would to a head wound-applying ice and not allowing him to sleep almost 6 hours after the event occurred. We engaged in conversation- which consisted of the anger my son was feeling and the guidance of myself telling him he could not let this anger trigger more violent actions toward this child in retribution.

Days later, after the event seem to be far removed from our minds, I see this very same child now in my own front yard provoking my child into a confrontation by calling him faggot and retard. The other child was more angry at my son, because after he tried to apologize for his actions, my son would not accept his apology, making his boundaries even more clear. The irony is that, the very reason this child had targeted my son is because my son had made his boundaries clear from the beginning, by not seeing this other child as the “Alpha Male” This infuriated him.

This I know, because the child sat on my couch confessing such things to me, as well as other disturbing things about his home life, only weeks ago before the event happened to my son.

When I saw the child in my front yard, I came out of my house to question him. He then became defensive claiming he never intentionally meant to hurt my son and it was not fair that he would not accept his apology. Now Keep in mind, I am very aware of the anger this child fosters and more so aware of the core of it. So when he began his usual defending words, and tough exterior, I did not buy it for one second. I grabbed hold of his arms gently touching them and told him I did not see him as a bad kid. But that he had tremendous amounts of anger that gets extended in detrimental ways toward himself and others-where he creates himself to be a bad kid from his actions. It is not that my child is choosing to be an intentional jerk to you as you see it, but because he does not see you as being rational and therefore he knows he has to protect himself by not being around you.

As I stared into the eyes of this child, there was so much sadness and despair. He felt trapped in a role he did not want to play or how to get out of. It was to him, like another person was taking these actions, so therefore he did not assume responsibility to them. He tried to divert the blame toward my son, by saying he was throwing rocks at him and even go as far as to insinuating he deserved it. I told him that I did not care. The simple fact was my son came home bleeding out, because you made a choice to pick up a rock the size of your hand and hit him in the head. It was not little pebbles scuffed against your toes, but now a weapon that could kill a person. You made the choice to extend your anger way past a point of reason, and this you have to be accountable for. And in this you have to respect my sons wishes in not wanting you around him. He then again tried to minimize the situation by pointing to a neighbors roof next to me, saying it wasn’t that high of a roof my son was on when I threw the rock. My eyes bulged when I saw the height of the roof he claimed not be so high, and was even more shocked to find out there were details I did not know- missing to the story. I then was like what are you kidding me” you threw rocks at my son on a roof that high”

He then began hyperventilating and crying uncontrollably of how scared he was of himself, but hated to be alone. But knew he needed to be alone because he has so much anger. I don’t know how to control it sometimes, Misty, he said with his body appearing as if it wanted to jump out of its own skin. I told him I knew this and that he needed help. He then said yes I heard you tell my grandmother I needed counseling, counseling does not help me. Then what do you propose one should do, when being around you, when you yourself are saying right now you cant control your anger and that you cannot be helped at all? He then became even more agitated by the mirror I just showed him, and screamed I just have to get away. Just let me go Misty. I released my hold on his arms and he flew down the street on his skateboard as me, my son and daughter walked to his house to finally confront the mother.

When I approached the door, the grandmother sat on the couch with the screen door open, and disgustingly asked me what did I need. This about pissed me off in her tone. So I sounded off the same tone to her and further insulted her by asking was their an adult I could speak with. She sent another grandchild to fetch the mother who was in the back of the house. Apparently as I was unaware of, the mother had to travel back home from Indiana and the grandmother and family felt my family to blame. The child who the grandmother sent off to retrieve the mother, returned with a question posed by his mother. My mother wants to know what do you want to talk about? Both me and my daughter was shocked by the apparent disregard we were receiving over a situation, that if we had taken further action would have resulted in her child being taken into custody. I responded the best I knew how with “I just want to talk”

I found this to be a complete waste of time, even as I suggested to her that had my son did this to her son, there would be severe consequences to his behavior-including being grounded for some time-in which she had yet to do for her own son. What I heard from her was the parroting of her own sons words, and I was surprised by it. I then had to take the same approach with her as I did with her child in previous moments. She still did not get it. I then walked down to another neighbor hood mom, who had lived in the neighborhood far longer than me, feeling there was more to the story. My instincts was correct. She weaved tales that made my head explode. Not only did I find more to the story concerning the “Rock Incident” but also the way of this child’s home life, and the numerous actions he has taken toward my son in the past. Very disturbing things that you would never think a child would do.He had in fact chased my son up a roof, bullying him and threw little pebbles of rocks at him. My son threw back the little pebble of the rock toward the child’s leg screaming get away from me! Then the other boy infuriate and now controlled with anger picked up a rock the size of his hand and threw it at my sons head. It was also a week after the fact that I learned, the rock this child thew at first knocked my son unconscious. I learned this from the parents child who witnessed the whole thing as well as the parent whom saw this other boy chasing my son. The boy said that my son did nothing to provoke the other child, and was defending himself to make him go away. I also learned that this boy had targeted other kids in the neighborhood- but had turned his attentions toward my son-because my son was the smallest, but also the bravest.

When I asked why has this boy not been taken from the house and put into alternative homes, she said that there has been so many open cases on this family, but because the system is so inundated the results the neighbors were looking for did not happen. And so this made this situation even more explosive with their children. A situation that forced her to put security cameras around her house and have to stand at the bus stop every morning with her 11 year old kid. It also made me question if I really wanted to put my kid back in school and not home-school.

I left her house with a sick feeling of fear pulsing through every fiber of my being. I wanted to believe I had control by locking my son away into his house, our sanctuary where he nor I had to worry about the insanity of the world awaiting.  At the time it seemed reasonable. I now know, it was just as insane as the insanity i was trying to shield him from. Yet when I tried to convince my son it was best for him to stay in the house or just in front of the house, he refused, and was adamant about why he refused. His exact words were “I am scared of this kid, I can admit that, but I am not going to let him make me so scared, that I would allow him to take my freedom away and be a prisoner in my own home”

He spoke with the elegance of  a sage, and I, even though his words frustrated me, had no choice but to honor his choice. It was decisions like this, where he would choose to face his fears, rather then hide from them that, would further mold him as the man he would be in his future life. And it was choices like this, which I would have to be aware of, meant cultivating who that man was to become by not forcing my will upon him. As i expressed this story to other friends, they did not agree with me. They even said your the adult, not him. You are giving him too much power. Yet in me, even if by not enforcing my will upon him, meant having to bear horrifying conclusions, I knew in my heart of hearts, I had to honor who my son was first and foremost. This is not easy shit folks.

Now to intensify things even more, of what i believed would be a consoling for myself, I reached out to other friends telling them of this experience. I wanted to find someone who simply just understood. Not many did. Some gave great advice, words of wisdom. Yet it still did not feel the same to my lost feeling inside. As I listened to their passionate replies of “Misty how have you not grabbed this kid and put the fear of god in him” I didn’t know how to respond. In fact I felt I had really fucked up-missing my chance to do just that!  And then even began to ask myself what kind of fucking mother are you Misty, that you would not respond in such a way? Why cant you make these clear distinctions, that others have no issue with? What is wrong with you?

I went to drum class on my birthday late in the afternoon, where I knew my son would not be outdoors, but safe in his home. I could not even formulate simple rhythmic beats I had a done a thousand times on my drum. My mind was so clouded and so heavy, I left class early to treat myself to Lebanese cuisine, I had never had before. With Jeremy on the phone, I cried and cried into  my Basamati rice, in a room full of people who was celebrating someone else s birthday. After getting so many comments like “life is too short to be crying like this” I finally packed up my uneaten dinner and came home. I knew from the outside it was easier to categorize my behavior as depression or sadness, but for me it was just not that black and white. There  in the alcove of my door entrance,I was greeted with the grand inquisitor himself, my son. Even though I had cleared the tears from my eyes and face, he knew I was upset and asked me what was wrong? I responded with some lame lie-like oh its just my sinuses. He then replied you don’t have allergies and you have never had nose problems so whats the matter mom” I still kept trying to forge the lie into truth- and then he stopped me dead in my tracks “Mom you tell me not to lie to you, so you cant lie to me either”

At this point his 22 year old sister had joined him on the couch, and in the most unorthodox way, I surrendered the truth of my emotions to both of my children. Yet another action, some of my friends would say is wrong. My son insisted that I did defend him and he felt defended by me confronting the family, the child and further investigating things through other neighbors. He also in a resounding assurance, expressed to me, that had I approached this child any other way, I would have never “Broke him down”

I asked him what he meant? He said that anytime he has been around said child all he ever sees is this tough exterior and someone who lies to the adults and never accepts responsibility. He said he has never seen this child break down in tears and admit his actions-ever. “You did reach him mom- you did. You always say you have to honor yourself, well mom honor yourself by knowing you did what you needed to do and don’t question it”

This still did not stop the tears even the next day. I simply still felt so alien in my own skin. There was a time where I would have felt the need to take action in helping to heal this child. I would have gotten so heavily involved in the dynamics of this dysfunctional family, out of a sense of it being my responsibility as being once a child of the same circumstances. However I did not feel compelled at all to help this child. There was no feeling of absolution in either threatening this child, or adopting him. Yet I did feel tons of compassion in the awareness that this child’s life is headed for disaster, if their is not intervention and this made me sad. But my ego, seeing myself as the healer or rescuer did not take charge. It was a very strange feeling that left me alien to myself in so many ways-like who the fuck am I? And better yet how is it that in this extreme sadness of this moment, that I feel inexplicable amounts of beauty, by being able to really see the pain of this child? By being able to see this higher and lower person who was aware and yet unaware at the same time peeking out at me, why was it so cutting?

If I was not the healer who healed, or the mother who adopts or the mother who takes action in protecting their own child, or the concerned neighbor who calls the cops, or the father who disciplines, or the once abused child who helps another abused child, or the this or the that, then who the fuck was I?

What was my role? And what if you don’t have one? What if your role was only to see. To see the reality of what your child is dealing with, and how much he has grown as a person of not seeking more violence against his attacker, and to see this child as the victim as much as he is an attacker. And even bigger yet to see the god in him aware and unaware playing out this role as the victim and the attacker. And that the only time anyone has seen the god within him thus far, was when my eyes saw beyond the role of being a “Mother”

Yet how does one explain this to others? When others just want the black and white- through the definitive factor of having control or power to change or control things?

Why haven’t you called the cops? It is a question i have heard a thousand times by now. And I am tired of answering it. I could list many reasons as to why I have not called the cops. Yet it would not matter if I did or did not. That’s the point, no one seems to get. There is no help for this child. The system is already involved from his actions toward other children among other things, and the only way to take away the threat of this in my mind in concerns for my child, is to have this child removed from his home indefinitely. Now if you want to make the phone calls- you will find out very quickly how the world really works, the system we think is protecting us, the role we think is protecting us. All simple illusions of power. The only thing that is every protecting us is god and the karmic paths we walk in the experience of what that is.

I do have a friend however that works in the system who I plan to connect with on the matter. Only because I want to have things documented. I am not at all interested to having the bee’s nest disturbed, but removed. Sure I could have the child baker acted, put in a facility, but this is not a indefinite process of eliminating the threat. There are procedures to follow in such things that could allow for the child to be home only days after even more  angry for vengeance toward my son.Since no one can guarantee me the absolution of things, I do not feel compelled to try and force it or create it. Until that happens, I instead can only be the observer and not make it worse on my child by making more bees. For now, my son and I have an unspoken agreement which seemed to naturally evolve. He can go down the block playing with other kids of the neighborhood when I am home. But when I am not home and it is only his sister supervising him, he is not to leave the house or at least stay in front of the house where he can be closely supervised by his sister. He has unknowingly agreed to this..lol It works for now because I have my own business as an Independent Therapist that allows me this flexibility and this I am grateful for.

The sadness of beauty is knowing that all things we experience in profound ways cuts into us like a knife- this includes every experience. The attachment of this suffering is when we try to identify ourselves into a role we are playing, and thinking of one role as being less or more than the other. Our pain is the curse and the liberation that both frees us and traps us.

Much love to all

Misty Dawn

What’s goin on?

It was the sweet harmonic sound of Marvin Gaye who  first coined this phrase in suggestion to war and the lack of union of brother and sister known as man. And as so many years have passed, it’s suggestion has not changed. “Whats going on”

Indeed what is going on? People who have a emphasized sensitivity are really noticing the mentality of others and the growing lack of consideration being demonstrated.  As I spoke with a friend yesterday conveying my absolute frustration over the minimal occurrence of how people drive so aggressively and without consideration to others, we both noticed a correlating theme. It seemed by our perception, the actions initiated by others, speak volumes to us of how caring and aware people are. And beyond that, the even bigger question is how to not be effected by someone who is inconsiderate to you.

Imagine such scenario, as I am sure most of you can relate to. Here I am needing to cross two lanes of traffic to complete a left turn to my destination. It took more than a second to wait for both lanes of traffic to thin out. In the midst of this wait, a man approaches on a bike making a complete stop. I see him and realize I am now in the biker crossing lane and try to back up. But the driver behind me wont budge, so with my window down, I smile at the biker and apologize for my actions. I am ready to pull out make the turn, and as I do another car seeing my turn signal and me literally with my front bumper in on coming traffic, decides to pull out and make a right turn instead, not into his immediate lane but the next furthest lane. In his turn from said lane he monopolizes not one lane but two lanes, making it  an impossibility for me to take my turn. Now because I have to complete my task much like the game of frogger, without getting squashed, this driver stole my most opportune moment to do so without even a blink of hesitation on his behalf to my dilemma.

This aggravated me. But if that wasn’t enough to frustrate me, I now have a man on a bike who is screaming at me you “Stupid fucking bitch” just go. He only sees the oncoming traffic ahead of him which is depleted and not the other driver who made the turn. And the driver behind me wont back up!

Now I am infuriated and I think to myself you “Assholes”

It took everything in me not to respond to the man in the same manner he did, other than my own secretive thoughts. But man did I want to be vindicated in my obvious humiliation.But I stopped to think how just the simple minimal act of driving indicates the perception and judgement of others and what is this teaching me?

This was the beginning of a week which only continued to demonstrate the same inconsiderate actions of others through something as minimal as driving and expanded beyond that, through customer service in stores, and shared stories from mutual friends having similar experiences. Three times this week, I was dismissed by people who get paid to serve me in their jobs. And three times I had to contact managers and supervisors just so that I would be treated respectfully.  I was in Goodwill, and literally had to walk back to management offices, asking does Goodwill not have customer service because its a thrift store? I also had to pretty much ask the same question at Michaels and many other places I visited. I was in search of decorating my new massage room, and had to spend hours shopping to find the material I needed for my vision to be completed. The whole experience was enough to make me want to board up my doors and windows of my home and not interact with others for a long time. Yet there was also times during this week, where I had random visits by new found friends who were the same place I was. One friend who in their spare time often counsels abused women and drug addicts made a surprise visit to my house to claim in a triumph. They had for years been battling with a flawed system to get help for their heroin addicted friend and had finally succeeded. What I saw over their face other than tears, was complete exhaustion, in which they even said “I dont know how much more I can give”

I knew exactly how they felt, being there thousands of times myself with clients, friends, and countless romantic relationships, where my love for them was more than for themselves.  Even Jesus said their are too many, long after the Buddha retreated to being a monk, years previous. Why would we think it would be any different for us?

There was a recognition between me and my friend, almost like two aliens who saw each other in a foreign world. “Oh your one of us”said the aliens to the others alien, like my children did to him. We both rejoiced in the moment and certainly felt the rarity of it in even deeper appreciation as two spirits with a clear perception of how the world should be, but what it is not. Yet it is the should idea that gets us trapped of how things should be, verses how things are. At this moment I hear the words of my Zen master speaking the difference between what is reality and illusion. Indeed I ask what is the difference.

Yet after this moment passed, there was literally at one point as the days progressed into the next and the next that the universe must be conspiring against me in some attempt to groom me for something even bigger. Am I attracting this? On some level yes I was, but as I looked around in the long lines, or recreated scenarios of my own situation in traffic, I knew this was not just me and something was happening on a universal scale.

There were many times as I tried to merge into other lanes with my turn signals on, that I asked myself is their a sign, that indicates to other drivers when someone is trying to get over this does not mean yield, but speed up? Am I the only one, that when I see another driver trying to get over into my lane, I yield and let them do so? But what was even more interesting to me, is  I heard myself say in my mind in reference to the other drivers who did show consideration for others “Right on, someone who get’s it” Their acts was even of a greater emphasis to me and truly appreciated. In other words an even bigger separation was occurring, from those who respect and are considerate to one another, verses those who aren’t

As I sat down yesterday with my son to indulge in some Steak and Shake, I noticed the frazzled demeanor of my waitress and did everything I could to make her job easy. But in return I did not get the same. In fact when she brought my sons meal whom had indicated he only wanted ketchup and cheese on his bacon burger, she instead of apologizing for the mishap, made us feel like the inconvenience. She then very smugly said “Well the kitchen is busy”

My son then said it was ok he would eat it. After taking two bites from his burger and eating his plate of fries, he looked at me feeling almost disappointed in himself and said he could not eat it, because the burger was smothered in mayo. I told him it was ok and we would get them to take it off or re-make it. He said no, its ok I dont want them to have to re-make it. It took forever to get our waitress back to our table. We waited and waited and waited and watched as the waitress scrambled about trying to take other customer orders.

She finally came to the table where she looked at the untouched plate of food disgusted and then asked what the problem was? I told her he couldn’t eat it and before I could get another word out of my mouth, she grabbed the plate of food and went toward the kitchen. As she eventually returned to our table with the plate of food, me nor my son not having the heart to say anything else, graciously accepted the meal. We then engaged in a battle of fruit ninja, eating fries and a milkshake. We waited and waited and waited again for her to come back to the table. When she did and saw again a plate of untouched food, you could see her demeanor change to aggravation. My son and I, noticing her aggravation didn’t want to be an added nuisance, apologized, asking for a to go container. When we reached the counter to pay, we were told abruptly by the cashier we would have to wait. It seemed she was having computer problems. We had to wait even longer because for some reason our order wasn’t coming up.

My son then placed his to go food on the counter during the transaction, and I even though getting no decent service tipped the server. Unbeknownst to us, we left the food still carefully placed on the counter walking out. Hours later with my son hungry again, he looked for his meal. It was then we realized what happened.

I then thought wow, not only did we pay for this horrible experience, tipping the waitress but we didn’t even get the added benefit of at least enjoying the food we paid for. And then I thought to myself I tipped a waitress who gave us very bad service and demonstrated a complete disregard for us as paying patrons. What kind of message am I sending here to this waitress and to the universe? It’s ok you don’t have to do your job and I will tip you anyways?

And why because I have compassion for you in being a server? Is it safe for me to assume that your behavior was an indication of a self entitled attitude who thinks you should get tipped regardless if you do your job? And by me doing so am I therefore sending the clear message to the universe that his kind of behavior toward me is acceptable?

I then called steak n shake and spoke with the manager. She then treated me even more disrespectfully by claiming that the time frame I indicated  when we was there, was not busy, and wanted my order number on my receipt to prove I was there. She gave me the grand inquisition, asking the order, the waitress, the table and wanted me to produce my receipt of my order number. I laughed saying “its stake n shake do you really think I kept the receipt”

Can you please just correct this for me and I will be there to pick it up. No, she insisted for me to call her back when I had the order number. I then had to go through my purse, pockets, car, to find this receipt and was beyond irritated that I was basically treated as a liar and a common thieve. Luckily I did find it and called the manager back. When I returned to steak n shake, I told the manager how I could not believe how badly I was treated over a burger and some fries. And that I would be calling her superiors.

What is going on?

Have people really become so consumed with having the advantage over another, they have forgotten common fucking courtesy? Have people become so jaded and in such degrees of fear, that they assume the worst of others? Did this manager just think I was trying to get one over on her and her pride would not allow here to believe otherwise? And even deeper so, how the hell do I react to this? Is this a lesson patience for myself, in which I am clearly failing and the lesson is being repeated over and over in a sped up manifested way?

My friend who works in a hospital illustrated the same concern in their own day to day happenings with other care takers. He even thought to himself if you have no care for other people then why the hell are you in a career that emphasizes care for another? Another friend of mine who has been a nurse for some fifteen years, is leaving her job as nursing to pursue other things, claiming the same disgusted feeling with people who claim to care in a profession of caring but demonstrate otherwise. What is going on?

What I came to, is that more than anything what is being shown to me is the action of loving and respecting myself has to take precedence over anything else. I have to take actions in this world to emphasize how I want to be treated in this world as a mirror reflection of how I want my relationship to be with the divine. If I simply just allow to be treated as less than an individual or person, then I am in hand enabling and perpetuating this behavior to continue to occur. And at the expense of being seen as a bitch or less than loving person, I have to absolutely make sure my boundaries are clear. Simply because we are living in at time of emphasized awareness and unawareness. The great divide is indeed occurring and for those who are of a loving compassionate intent, it is crucial for us to cultivate our loving space, by not accepting non-loving actions. We have to filter, we have to weed. And above all we have to not tolerate, to have tolerance for ourselves. To have tolerance for the divine that is teaching us to yet love ourselves even more, by not assuming everyone is of love. Because everyone is not of love. That to me is clear. There is no absolutes in anything including love as an absolute. It is not. Neither is god, nor energy.

Their is a major difference between what is illusion and what is real and even in the difference it is of no absolute. And often we have to constantly check what that means. The illusion is believing that everything is of love. In the abstract as a whole, yes it is. But since we are all co-creating our reality of what love is, then we have to make this clear to live in that experience of what is love. And this means often having to not tip a waitress as a means to make her aware of her inconsiderate behavior so it is not repeated and perpetuated to another. We simply cannot dismiss these things anymore as trivial, because by doing so we have then created a way for this behavior to grow through our dismissal.

These are not easy tasks for someone to do who is of love, because the ego fucks with us a bit and tells us we are not being of a loving nature, which can lead us to being trapped in our internal struggle making the comparison of what is ego or spirit. And while we are in this quiet contemplation, those who are not thinking such thoughts are dominating the energetic field through means of action. Action that is not considerate, not loving, not compassionate, and know they can take advantage of your good nature.

There is a war indeed going on. But its not war in the way we imagine war to be. Its a war of indecisive and decisive intent through actions. It is a war of perception and awareness. In order to attain peace, we must fight the war. The universe is beckoning for us to do so. It is not as simple anymore to say “Unconditional love” It does not exist in the means of man. It does however exist in the means of the god in the relationship with man. But to attain this unconditional love with the divine, we must remember everything in this world we do is a mirror reflection of the relationship we have with the divine. And this relationship begins with the divine, ends with man, and starts again with the divine. For us to have a loving relationship with man we first must have it with the divine as a mirror. To continue to cultivate our deeper love with the divine we have to cultivate that with man as well, but since man is so flawed and with judgment (sin) or lacking of love within, we have to filter weed through those who are not acceptable in our cultivation. And this means not settling for less than what we deserve in the name of love for ourselves. It also means noticing our aggrevations, frustrations, and not just dismissing them, really sitting with them. And not being so eager to accept the blame, simply because you can take it or its easier or you see it as your job by simply being aware. Just some things to ponder on my friends.. And again remember nothing is absolute including what I have said.. It very well may change tomorrow who knows.

Much love to all

Misty Dawn