Permission

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It seems to me
that we often ask
for advice
when what
we really want 
is permission

Permission
to let go
to start over
to choose something different

I know I have

More than once
I have found myself
asking for guidance
when what I really want
is permission

Permission
to do what I already know
I want to do
but am scared to do

Because
like so many of us
I learned not to trust myself
at least not without
some sort of
external validation

And definitely
not without punishing myself
for the ways I feel
I have done it incorrectly
in the past

As if punishment
is a necessary
part of the process
As if without punishment
I will make the same “mistakes” again

Silly
Sad
Misguided
for sure…

And truly not the best use of my energy
Truly not the quickest way
to get where I want to go

Simply not that useful, not at all

So I have been trying something new
Perhaps you try it too…
Compassion
and care

Yes, compassion and care
over punishment and self attack

Give yourself permission
to start over
this time
without harshness
this time
kindly

You might be surprised
just how much easier
it is to start
when you choose
to start
from there

❤️ Emily Joy Rosen

Trading ego for true power

8

When we get out of the glass bottles of our ego,
and when we escape like squirrels turning in the
cages of our personality
and get into the forests again,
we shall shiver with cold and fright
but things will happen to us
so that we don’t know ourselves.
Cool, unlying life will rush in,
and passion will make our bodies taut with power,
we shall stamp our feet with new power
and old things will fall down,
we shall laugh, and institutions will curl up like
burnt paper.

– D.H. Lawrence

Hallelujah

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“I say : “All the perfect and broken Hallelujahs have an equal value .” It’s, as I say, a desire to affirm my faith in life, not in some formal religious way but with enthusiasm, with emotion.” ~ Leonard Cohen 

 

Leonard Cohen

Autumn Leaves

 

14991889_10211313770619856_3086186722716106779_nAutumn Leaves

Golden, crisp leaves falling softly from almost bare trees,
Lifting and falling in a hushed gentle breeze,
Slowly dropping to the soft cushioned ground,
Whispering and rustling a soothing sound.

Coppers, golds, and rusted tones,
Mother Nature’s way of letting go.
They fall and gather one by one,
Autumn is here, summer has gone.

Crunching as I walk through their warm fiery glow,
Nature’s carpet rich and pure that again shall grow,
To protect and shield its majestic tree,
Standing tall and strong for the world to see.

They rise and fall in the cool, crisp air.
It’s a time of change in this world we share,
Nature’s importance reflecting our own lives,
Letting go of our fears and again, too, we shall thrive.

Written By: © Edel T. Copeland

The Woman

Please stop by the blog Mirror & Soul to read this beautiful poem. Right now it reflects how many women are feeling. And beyond that the words are moving and heartfelt. I had to share with my readers  💗

Thinking of all women facing injustices

The woman in me cries For the sisters abused and raped For the mothers without choice For the hatred the children may face   The woman in me breaths She…

Source: The Woman

Let America Be America Again

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Let America Be America Again
Langston Hughes, 1902 – 1967

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the black man bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the black man, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The abuse and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again

From The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes

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Today I Rise: from Blaze of Grace

“The world is missing what I am ready to give: My Wisdom, My Sweetness, My Love and My hunger for Peace.”

“Where are you? Where are you, little girl with broken wings but full of hope? Where are you, wise women covered in wounds? Where are you?”

Today I Rise from Blaze of Grace on Vimeo.

To Find Out More About The Movement
FemmeQ

“the need for a radical realignment of the global moral compass for a new intelligence of values is growing: integration instead of exploitation, generosity instead of greed and self-interest, and cooperation instead of competition – the Feminine intelligence.”

Suzy Kassem

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Suzy Kassem