Honey, Horses and Mugwort

As I brew my special cup of Sunday morning coffee infused with cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and clove I ponder the stillness Sunday mornings bring and how creativity seems to be born from a place of stillness. When we are still long enough to tune in to our natural rhythm new ideas and insights are born.

Stirring raw honey into my coffee pulls me into a gentle trance and I begin to miss my dreams from the night before. You see, when I was a little girl we had horses and I dreamt about riding a horse that was gifted to me most of the night.

My mother broke and raised horses in the years before she met my father and she taught me how to ride. As early as 1st grade I knew how to ride bareback with no reins! Throughout my life my parents bred Pit Bulls to Yorkshire Terriers and they were Falconers for a few years. I have had various birds, cats, dogs, hamsters and iguanas and none of these experiences came close to what it's like to have a horse love you. There is a free-spirited companionship that is unmatched.

My mother had an Arabian horse named Alfie who's coloring was similar to this one. - Lily James from the set of Cinderella -Image captured: https://therefractedlight.wordpress.com/tag/forgiveness/

Trust is something that can't be convinced or manipulated with words but created and built with actions, behaviors, and energy. You both have to learn to get to know one another, how the other thinks and where the boundaries lie for both of you. The fruition of this partnership is intoxicating. The rush you feel when you lower your body and nudge the horse in a way to let them know they can let loose as if they are free allows you both to feel free. You feel the exhilaration of this animal tapping into it's truest power and wild potential with grace and ease. I remember moments of shutting my eyes in order to process the intensity of the experience and opening them only to realize I had nothing to fear but loss of control over myself and knowing when to manage any changes in speed or movement which is what the horse trusted me to do. This taught me the beauty and ease of a working partnership better than anything. I remember feeling like I was betraying or punishing the poor soul whenever I would put a saddle on him for competitions or practical riding. Later in life I took up body building as another form of body meditation and to channel that burn you get in your thighs after hugging this magnificent creature for hours at a time. It wasn't the same but it was fulfilling in its own way.

So after all these years why did I dream about a horse being given to me by one of my beloved mentors from previous years? I was able to jump on the horse bareback, no reins and we took off and I was swept into my memories from childhood. When the horse and I weren't together I was naked and vulnerable but no one noticed or cared. Some people were naked too. People were everywhere and I just wanted to get back to my horse and release him from his containment. I was so frustrated it woke me up. This is what happens when you experiment with Mugwort essential oils before going to bed - VIVID dreams. Do not expose yourself to any Mugwort if you are having nightmares!

Ex-Almost

I will never be your ex because you have to be something before you can be an ex-something.

I may have meant or been some thing to you but I was never your something and now we are nothing.

Are Your Breasts Real?

Mechanical Breasts...by ~cruelcouture

This may surprise you but I actually appreciate when someone asks me this question because to me it means that they aren't willing to speculate or gossip but respect me enough to ask me directly. I usually respond with something like, "Yes, my breasts are real and so are the saline implants I have inside them." What is "real" anyway? And I'm not simply asking that question as a Matrix fan, I really want to know what real means to you. Do my breasts define how genuine of a person I am? 

Once I'm asked this question I soon begin to wonder if women who have had to have breast reconstruction due to fighting breast cancer get asked the same question and what it must be like for the person asking to hear that this woman has implants because she went through the trauma of losing her breasts to cancer. I mean, fighting the trauma of breast cancer is something everyone can get behind, support fighting, and declare as a trauma that needs to be dealt with but what about those of us who have known traumas that are quieter than breast cancer? Trauma is anything that overwhelms our system whether emotionally, physically, psychologically, etc. so who's to say that one trauma is more valid to get treatment than another? Now in NO WAY am I belittling dis/ease or illness such as cancer, I have lost loved ones to cancer. Cancer is a terrible disease and I am simply using it as an example of how our society can be selective about what traumas it rallies around. Do we judge women differently for choosing to get reconstructive surgery or not when they have experienced any kind of physical trauma?

I felt deformed after I breastfed my infant for 10 months. I felt deformed and struggled with feelings of shame and inner conflict wondering if it was worse to be what others would view as vain or even "slutty" by getting implants or to just live my life struggling to feel good about my body and wearing the scars of motherhood proudly because I knew that this would be a life long struggle... You see, when I was a little girl I was in an accident that had mutilated my body in a way that made doctors turn away and refuse to treat me for eight years so all through puberty I felt deformed and ugly. No one could see my scars or the damage from the accident but the scars were there, externally and internally so my puberty was riddled with this trauma defining me along with being a general outcast for being "ugly", "skinny like an Ethiopian", "weird", "nerdy", "hairy", having "four eyes", and just plain different for reasons I don't need to list.

I was just getting comfortable with my body as I awakened as a woman for the first few months of marriage before finding out I was pregnant seven months into my marriage. After breastfeeding my infant for 10 wonderful months I stood in the mirror looking at these empty and useless bags hanging on my chest at the age of 21... These empty sacks looking like week old party balloons no one took down off the wall when the party was over, I was right back in my childhood all over again and nothing anyone else would say to reassure me helped.

When my son was seven I finally was brave enough to get breast augmentation and I began to feel like myself again. It's alright if you don't understand why this was so important to me, I don't need you to understand. What I do want and the reason I am bringing this up is because breasts have been in the news a lot lately, or at least, I have been hyper-aware of it lately. Breasts, (on women anyway), are commonly seen as a definition of how sexually proficient a woman may be and I can say from experience, if a woman isn't confident in her breasts it may have an affect on her sexual satisfaction at no fault of her partner, (although partners are frequently blamed, I believe women ultimately hold the power and control over their orgasm but that subject is for later).

My next blog will have some examples/comparisons to demonstrate how revered breasts are in our culture along with why I wonder if this power is a "good" thing, a "bad" thing, or something that has as much value as we give it as individuals and society. Follow this blog or subscribe anonymously by email to see the examples and join the discussion as it's posted. In the meantime, ponder how important other women's breasts are to you, how often you have labeled or judged breasts and why. And please feel free to share your opinions on why you think breasts are so important to our culture in the comment section below.

Breastsby ~shadylady91

There is either Fear or Love

We can live in fear or we can live in love. Which will you choose for 2013?