She had an ethereal glow about her…

She is so beautiful who see beautiful in everything. She always loved the things that the rest of the world forgot, snails and slugs and the broken flowers. She was just herself and the world loved her for this. All her perfect imperfectness made her the most beautiful creature. And the stars blinked as they watch her carefully, jealous of her shine. She consumed me with inspiration, but she was no muse. She was the brush stroke of my every word,

It’s that heart of gold, & stardust soul that make you beautiful

And so she’s here, over the mountains and through the woods.

To the wild women being spiritual means: whispering to trees, laughing with flowers, falling in love with sunsets, consulting the water and worshipping the stars at night. One hand to her heart and one hand touching Mother Earth… She speaks with the rhythm of her heart and loves from the depth of her soul… Like a wildflower, she spent her days, allowing herself to grow, not many knew if her struggle, but eventually all, knew of her light.

I now pronounce you… beautiful.

As you sit and get to know your real self, the you without your skin, harness your power by recognizing that you are nothing and you are everything. Can you see a beginning and an end to your existence in this state? There is none. You are all powerful outside of your skin. You don’t need anyone’s permission to treat yourself well. If no one else as noticed you yet, then give yourself the treatment you know you deserve. Find a reason to fall in love with yourself everyday. Become your own greatest admirer. No one else in the world has to fall in love with you in order for you to feel that you are valuable. You ARE love. Feel it within. Touch it. Fondle it. Kiss it. Frolick in it. Every single day.

You’re so awesome!

I now pronounce you… beautiful.

She’s up.

One morning she woke up different. Done with trying to figure out who was with her, against her, or walking down the middle because they didn’t have the guts to pick a side. She was done with anything that didn’t bring her peace. It was this day that her life changed. She realized that life is too short to leave the key to your happiness in someone else’s pocket. So, She stood up for herself; for her happiness.

You create what you will…

Art is contemplation. It is the pleasure of the mind which searches into nature and which there divines the spirit of which nature herself is animated. The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation. To any artist, worthy of the name, all in nature is beautiful, because his eyes, fearlessly accepting all exterior truth, read there, as in an open book, all the inner truth.

Siddhartha’s meditation entered another phase.

After sitting quietly for a while, Siddhartha noticed that his thoughts subsided. He experienced a calm and clear awareness from within. He recognized that the man, the water buffalo, the birds, and the worms had one thing in common: each of them was tied to the conditions of its life. A worm was tied to the condition that it was a food source for birds. A small bird was bound by the condition that it might fall prey to larger birds. A water buffalo had to live in captivity and work for its captors.

Siddhartha continued to look deeper. He recognized that life conditions brought fear and pain at times, and enjoyment at others.