Remembrance From 'Dancing on Colette's Grave'

…a quote she used in the book from Nietzsche:

"You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star"

Dancing on Colette’s Grave

I found a little quote today that made me think of a powerful dream voice I heard years ago while undergoing major changes in my life~~with its attendant chaos.

Many years ago, after leaving a church where I had been a devoted member and student, I went to sleep one night after looking above enormous elms and evergreens and asking the sky to give me a name. I had been used to having a name to call on in contemplative times and meditations and it had been a long time without a name. It wasn’t really all that conscious but I had left what I had known, been wandering for a long time, and just cried it out before falling off to sleep.

I would not have remembered the celestial query if a "disembodied dream voice (a term I learned from Clarissa Pinkola Estes' works)" had not answered.

The disembodied dream voice just simply, but clearly, said: "The Name is Morningstar."

I was quite taken aback as I’ve never heard, simply, a voice in my dream with nothing else. (However, I could tell it was an ancient ancestral woman’s voice.)

I spent some time researching "morning star." I've written about it in my journals for years and if and when I get the courage to delve into them, perhaps I’ll write about some of the specifics. Because it was the birth of a star in a mystical way that kept me going for about seven years, maybe more maybe less.

In times of trouble, the Morning Star was just there.

I’m not sure what my point is at all except Colette's quote reminded me that the present chaos can point to a dawntime and I am grateful.

This morning I decided that I think there is no god

There is nature and the sun is godlike as it heals the soul but I think there is no god the way I used to believe there was a god. This probably isn’t true but what if it is?

The other day I sat outside

on one of the first warm days of the new season. There were so many birds singing their songs~~they frightened me. I have lived amid nature my entire life and I've never seen so many birds at one time. And, I realized that if they passed along information to one another~~determining in their own special way~~that I was some sort of prey, then at a moment's notice thousands of oscine warm-blooded feathered vertebrates could come hissing and jeering down at me. I went indoors, safe from the signs of springtime. .

Where do our fears emanate from? Why is it so difficult to find or feel security?

I Love You Dear But Can I Love Myself Now?

As I ponder the choices we need to make and consider the people in our lives, I would like readers to consider the freedom of giving oneself permission to be, just who they are.

...that I love you my dear, but can I love myself now? Can I just hum or howl a hush so you can’t hear the stillness amid this noise--in pregnant expectation of my melody ....

(Read the Rest at: WomensBlog)

and tug at my clothes.

I just read one of the most heart-rending stories even though these stories are told thrice daily by women of all ages. Here's the beginning of it but it would do you a disservice if you do not link to the rest of it--including the comments at the bottom of the link. Here's an excerpt:

Blank Noise Project

I have terrible posture. That's what I discover in every exercise-dance class that I attend. Movements that should look graceful with the right posture look awkward, my shoulders droop. Did I never learn to walk with my head high in air, shoulders thrown back, breasts thrust up and with the confidence of being secure in the space around me? Actually, in my first gawky teenage moments, horrified by the first signs of a sexual persona in the form of growing breasts, I closed in my body to obliterate this shame of mine. And thus I walked home from school, fearful that my transition to womanhood would attract more of the sort of groping and pinching that had sporadically occured even when I was a child.

Yes, even at age 7. By a man who had kindly offered to seat me, the little kid, in his lap in a crowded bus. And then proceeded to grope me under my dress. I was puzzled, terrified, and never mentioned one word to my beloved uncle who had seated me on the monster's lap to save me from being choked by the crowded bus. In later years, I had the relative security of a school bus full of fellow students for most of my commutes, but the rare bus ride would be full of dread and anxiety, and as I grew up, I created a mental force field around myself, and became preternaturally aware of any clammy hand that tried to violate my physical space.

However, unsavoury incidents occured frequently. I told a male friend that I had been harassed twice by bastards who had been trying to press their obviously erect organs agains my shoulder as I sat in a bus. He was incredulous, he couldn't believe that there could be such lewd public behaviour in a country that can't seem to shut up about morality. A few weeks later, he called me, shocked, and told me that he had indeed seen a man on the bus he travelled in, with a very public erection, trying to thrust it against an unsuspecting seated woman. I wore, loose, ill-fitting clothing in the hope that it would make the harassers forget about my gender. Regardless, men even when they couldn't touch my skin, would try and tug at my clothes.

Read the rest: Blank Noise

But we can’t deny the Screams:

I dreamt last night that I saw a movie about a little girl who was telling her Daddy that something happened but it wasn't too bad and she knew he'd sit down with her and listen as she gently exposed the violent details~~~because she didn't want to arouse his anger too soon. Then the six-year-old's Daddy got a phone call and it was business and in the movie dream I could see the girl's face fading to white amid clouds of desperation and slowly the clouds engulfed her until she broke down because it wasn't really all OK as she had told him~~~she was needing to die.

Her face in the dream is shrouded like a veil and as her features break down in the crying frames, she then loses control and screams: I was raped!

Daddy then leaves his business and comes to her because he loves her and he holds her and you know in the dream he is going to vindicate his innocent little girl. Then I found this post today:

Smash, drip and evaporate...learn to be a woman by silbil
Screams free you! They did that too Naseeruddin Shah in Hero Heeralal But what happens to the screams of the heroines? … …okay? So what I have done is that I have begged you to save me from yourself…understood? … Than to rape me just once in while. Also now you can focus on so many more freelance rapes…
Marriage is all about common sense, my love…. First they decide what a beautiful woman should look like … See.they are men and therefore practical so they divide the work amongst them …fine? … because the bloody women always look enticing…
And they have to do that
You think it’s fun for them.
You think they enjoy this.
They ask irritably and wearily.
And I feel sorry for the poor darlings
Can they help it…that unfortunate hard-on and all that….

(Read the Full Text at: dostlog aur main)

An Ode to Women, Mothers, Grandmothers, Lovers

What a nice surprise to see such affection towards women and their invaluable gifts:

Make Some Noise: Some Blank Noise by Anjaan
women … have made me the man I am today. Its these women who make me a better man each day! My mom, my grandma, my aunts, my school friends, my classmates, my ex girlfriends, my teachers, my neighbours daughters, my friends, my sisters, Ammu and my female listeners. A huge Thank you to each one of you! :)

(Read and See the Rest at: The Tune of Irony)

Dreams of Racial Harmony

Dream by Neoh
Yesterday got a dream. I dreamed of how to promote racial harmony and deepen the bonding of Malay, Chinese, and Indian…

(Read the Dream at: NEOH)

'In the Lap of Nature'

I feel like I am constantly howling for healing in this world. There’s so much hatred and although it can be energizing for a time (or forever for some) I find that although it is easier to create for vice and malevolence, it takes much more strength and bravado to create for benevolence, excellence. Thus, I’ve posted the beginning of a poem from “Heal the World’s” blog. There’s a link below to read the rest, which links directly to that blog, which is not mine. I’m just a collector and surveyor of beauty throughout the blogosphere.

Gratitude by Meetu
moon seemed sprinkled with glitters
shining through drapes of night
breeze so calm and soothing
thought to stay awake
a little more
heaven so vast yet humbled
my gratitude to you
before i forget before i am no more
u never asked for anything in return
wish i can pack my bags
hold my guitar and air in my lungs
walk away to unknown destinations
everyone including me a stranger
a forgotten song on my lips
a forgotten rhythm on strings
in the laps of nature

(Link to: Heal the World)

Longing for Peace & Beauty Continues

Mindinside writes of imagining a world bright and fresh as a tangerine. I adore tangerines and living in peace and images of other such concertos and their succulent flavors amid desiccated zest. Thanks to the ‘woman’ for sharing her inspirations again and in my search for peace and beauty amid so much hostilities and imperfection on our globe.

Imagine by Mindinside
Imagine even if it's hard to imagine
A world bright & fresh as a tangerine

A world of happiness; far away from cruelty
Where there's no meaning to hatred and envy
Where jails and prisons are just a fiction story
A world with the children of Adam & Eve
living in peace and free
Imagine the world as a whole
no lines separating a country
A world in bond and without border
A world without war; with no traces of bloodshed
Imagine
A world full of kisses; full of smiles
A world full of friendship and full of love
When passing any window you notice
someone waves at you from above

(Link to: MINDINSIDE)

'Whoop and holler and have the ride of your life'

Wow, I’ve just finished writing a story about falling from airplanes and my daughter just finished telling me about her dream that let her “smack” from a tall building. And then this (what does it all mean?):

Enjoying Falling; Excerpts by Mighta
I'm trying this new thing. It's very revolutionary; I don't know if you've heard of it.

It's called living in the present. Have you tried it? It's WILD! …it turns out that if you can master that whole thing, you can enjoy falling. Rather than freaking out about what comes next or just feeling terrified, you can just throw your head back and whoop and holler and have the ride of your life. The falling parts... they don't last very long. What a waste it would be to spend those fleeting moments anticipating the ground coming up and going *SMACK*, right?

(Read the Whole Mighta at: Woulda Coulda Shoulda)

Beauty Spots

Searching for beauty,

Peeping for purity,

Observing places people visit because of its pleasing vistas

There’s not very much—

Even in the dictionary.

It’s there for a flash

And then its departed.

~~FrenchIndian

Always Leave Room In Your Life For Beautiful Unexpected Things

you are my sunshine by jarvenpa
My youngest son thought it strange to see his mother stopped in her tracks outside the produce section of the local market, near the bananas, staring at little stuffed bears and unicorns and dogs and rabbits, pressing the stuffed animals' stomachs, listening to the tiny digital music. "Go now, let's go," he said, tugging me towards the checkstand.

"Your grandma used to sing that," I said. But Gabe could care less, and even if he'd liked the song, or had some emotional connection to it, he has better musical taste.

We went to the checkstand, detouring for a chocolate bar and a bunch of roses--cream colored roses with pink and coral edges. No, they weren't in the budget, but I was still enthralled by my mother's song, and remembering one of her frequent homilies: Always Leave Room In Your Life For Beautiful Unexpected Things.

(Read the Rest at: Outside the Windows)

Symbols of the Sacred by Saturn Air Jam

The sacred symbolises that which is inviolable, non-negotiable, and so central to our identity that, when it is injured in any way, it seems to vitiate the deepest self.

Link to: The Moving Finger writes...

Springing to New LIfe

Everything is springing to life

indicative of Mother Earth’s potency,

new births,

signifying new readiness to put effort into new,

sometimes risky, undertakings

that have no guarantee of success.

~~ French Indian

Window to the Soul in Wildness by Jac

I love mountain laurels. My mother used to talk about mountain laurels and I used to paint and draw mountain laurels and a blogger (here) has a glorious picture of one. I am at ease this early evening amid so much worldly strife, gazing at a most beautiful wildflower. The beauty of wildflowers is unmatched.

'Where are you' by Mindinside

hey you! wild deer
Where are you
I feel so close to you
We're both lonely and wanderer
let's put our hearts together
lets talk of our wishes to each other

I see the meadow no longer lively; no longer green
our wishful dreams invisiable ...unseen

Without you ... I am drained ... empty
Tell me, what's going to happen to me?
Will I ever be free?

Link to the author: Mindinside

She Won't Let Go by Nishant Goyal

We were having a leisurely lunch in Henley, a sleepy small town on the outskirts of London. As I got up to leave, a little 2 year old girl with golden hair sitting on her toddler chair at the adjoining table smiled at me. I smiled back and she grabbed my finger as I was walking past, much to amusement of her mum and dad. She giggled as I laughed and played along, pretending inability to pry my finger loose, and then she laughed some more as she grabbed my other finger.


‘She won’t let you go, you know’, her mum said.
‘If only she was a little older.’ I replied.

Link: THE KALYUG CHRONICLES.

A Beginning & an Elevation by Jack's Shack

"...sometimes even the average man finds himself in a situation that is beyond his control, a time in which he becomes something more than he has been.But the question is not what he does to elevate himself but how he handles the elevation?"


Link to the rest at: Fragments of Fiction-An Ongoing Novel: The Complete Set

Convenient Creations by Anjaan

from Anjaan's, Time Bound Insanity

"...sometime all of us do feel that things were moving faster.. It is confusing, because in spirit there is no time. Time is relative, we all know. But what is a true minute. What is a true hour? what is a true month? what is a true year? Are these just convenient creations that man has for making his life more comfortable?...."

Read the Rest at Chronicles of a Button Pusher