Red Wine and WWE

I’m sitting here at my dining room table with walls freshly painted the color of “new mown hay.” There’s a glass of Our Daily Red organic wine and a candle burning in an antique red glass holder. Athena the black & white furry goddess is curled up on the table next to my laptop, the dishwasher is humming behind me in the kitchen, the rain is pattering on the wooden deck and amazingly enough, at 8:02 pm its still light enough for me to see the cat on my neighbors back deck. Before anyone turns too green with envy, the tv is also blasting World Wrestling Federations’ Monday Night Raw.

I’m trying hard not to analyze why I haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks. Truth is, I don’t have anything in particular that I can point to and say “I did that,” but the past couple of weeks have been absolutely delicious. I’m delving into “Mama Gena’s School of Womanly Arts,” falling in love with myself, and its been so much fun.

I mentioned the Power of Pussy a while back and promised to elaborate once I knew more about it. I hope that word doesn’t offend anyone. Not because I want to make it through life without offending anyone, but because its an amazing word and my greatest wish is that everyone woman in the world could begin to understand the power of it. Goddess has tits and pussy, so who am I to take a moral stance that denies my self the beauty of those particular body parts?

Way back when, I read the book Journey to Avalon by Jean Shinoda Bolen. It’s the story of a personal goddess quest she took in the British Isles. On the cover page of every chapter was an image of the vesicas pisces that appears on the cover of the chalice well in Glastonbury England. From that time on, I have taken that symbol as my own talisman. I wear a silver pendant of it almost every single day.  The Graceful Deva image that is new to this site uses that symbol (only in red!).

The center part of the symbol, where the two circles representing all that is physical and all that is spiritual intersect, is the flash point of all creation. It is where thought becomes matter, where the unmanifest becomes manifest. It is the womb of God. It is, in fact, Divine Pussy.

I love this. It makes me laugh and cry at the same time.

There’s an exercise in Mama Gena’s Lesson 5, “The Womanly Art of Flirtation.” It goes like this:

            Do a little Bitte et chat. Go out there in the world, pick a totally safe circumstance like the man in the glass booth at the subway station, and when you ask for directions, think of your own delicious body. Notice how it makes you feel. Notice how he responds. When you walk into a restaurant, ask your boss for a raise, call the phone company – think pleasurable thoughts about your crotch. Notice your response and the response of your “victim.”

Does this sound ridiculous? It felt ridiculous the first couple of time I practiced it. But then I began to notice something. It was fun! It felt like a funny little secret I had that no one knew about. Sometimes I couldn’t help but almost giggle out loud. Then I began to notice something else – everyone else seemed to enjoy me at these times too! The boring surly guy at the post office smiled and asked me how my day was! The gal at the coffee shop gave me free coffee! My roomie at the office came in spontaneously and gave me a shoulder massage! The cop who pulled me over when my headlight was burned out only gave me a warning instead of a ticket! The adorable barista (baristo?) that I’m not so secretly in crush with started smiling back! My husband spontaneously mowed the lawn AND got the weedeater running, then trimmed the edges of the whole yard! My dog stayed right by my side without a leash and watched a couple of other pooches walk past on the sidewalk! Excuse my overuse of exclamation marks but what Mama Gena has given me is the key to being a Deva!

The point is that when I choose to feel good, when I choose my own pleasure over anything and everything else, something magical happens. I don’t know if I can put it into words except to say that suddenly I know I’m happy. And more importantly, I know I’m happy because I made me happy and that feels like true power.

So, needless to say, I’ve been having fun having fun the past couple of weeks and the days have just flown by. I’ve been productive and efficient and the annoying chores like making sandwiches at 7:00 a.m and scooping kitty litter 3 times a day have somehow become more enjoyable.

I dare you to try this flirting exercise. More than once. It will turn you into the goddess that you forgot you are. The Dahlai Lama recently said that western women will save the world – I absolutely believe that we will do this by starting revolutions in our own lives – and the biggest tool in my arsenal is definitely the power of my own pussy.

Tulips and Make Believe...

When we were little my sister and I would involve ourselves in the most intricate games of make believe. We had whole soap opera type worlds with plot twists, ongoing character development, and moral object lessons. I was thinking about some of the scenarios we would play out and remembered watching my own kids do the same sort of thing a few years ago – it always seems so funny to be on the outside of this world of pretend as you watch someone move so fluidly between the role of actor and director. The whole “now you say such and such” and the person says it, and immediately directs, “and you throw that thing over there” and the other one instantly moves back into character and throws the object indicated.

But, as I thought about it, I actually remembered what it was like to be inside the make-believe world. When you’re on the inside, you’re not an actor carrying out a role, you’re actually being the character. So, the roles you move so quickly between are not of actor and director, but more like character and creator. The minute I had this thought, (which I really shouldn’t have had to begin with since I was meditating at the time and wasn’t suppose to be thinking at all) I got shivers. It was such a cool analogy of how we make our own lives happen. Most of the time we carry on in “character” mode, taking what life hands us, swerving through the curves, and taking the punches. Every once in a while we get a glimpse of who we really are, how powerful we can be, and we take back the reigns of our lives, moving into the “creator” role. In this role we make decisive changes, visualize our selves the way we want to be, and see the bigger picture where every nuance of our lives has purpose and meaning.

Now, I don’t want to bash myself or anyone over the head and say we shoulda, woulda, coulda always live in creator mode. I’m only pointing out the interesting-ness about it. The realization that even when I’m on auto pilot, there’s a person behind the scenes, making up the story line and shouting directions through the megaphone and that person is, well, me. I am creator and character, actor and director, and every day I flow so fluidly in and out of these roles that I don’t even notice.

Noticing is all it takes, I think. There’s some comfort in knowing that when something “bad” happens, it was me who chose for it to happen because it will catapult something else into existence further into the plot line. And heaven knows I’m not going to hurt my lead character too bad when that character is me. And when I really “get” that I’m the one making up the story, I the character can consciously choose to sit in the creator’s seat and use those tools and devices that bring me whatever it is that I want. That is what “living on purpose” is to me – simultaneously being the person in the story, and the person making it up from the sidelines.

Five days a week I receive a “Note From the Universe” email. This is the one I received the same day I was remembering my childhood imaginings and thinking these deep thoughts.
“Can you imagine an astral plane somewhere "out there," Kelly, where
very old souls rendezvous to practice and perfect their most highly developed
manifestation techniques? A members-only kind of place, where whatever
they think about comes to life in the most vivid colors and sounds, and as
the most intricate plots and circumstances? Where the only limits that exist
lie in their ability to imagine what they've never before imagined, and to move
with it in anticipation of its "physical" expression?

And best of all, being astral, no harm can come to them; they're completely
untouchable. Nothing is real, yet everything matters. And there can be infinite
gains in terms of insight and fun, yet no losses since everything is illusory.
Actually, the worst thing that can happen is that they temporarily become so
entranced by their creations that they completely forget who they are, where they
are, and how powerful they really are....

Yep, it's exactly like this astral plane.

Tallyho,
The Universe”

Today I attended the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm’s 25th Anniversary Tulip Festival. It was one of those things I have wanted to go to all my life and just haven’t ever gone because no one else wanted to go with me. Now that I’m a Deva, I said “Screw the Naysayers!” and went solo. There is nothing like acre after acre of flowers to make you realize life is amazing and cool and beautiful. Isn’t it wonderful that first we get daffodils and then tulips, and then the rhododendrons and azaleas, and then the lilacs, and then the summer annuals kick in, and then the roses bloom and in late summer we get dahlias, then gladiolus and lavender? If we got them all together all at once we wouldn’t notice their individual incredible-ness.

My little camera doesn’t do it justice, but check out the link above for professional photos. You know, there are a million different varieties and colors, but I am always drawn back to the red ones. I even amazed myself that way today. I could appreciate the pink and orange and purple ones, but the Red ones sang to me and waved their heads at me and said “Look, we are the same you and I!”

Taking those few beautiful hours to myself gave me new energy and vibrance. I’m immersed once again in another huge creative project for 7th grade social studies. I’m learning more about medieval times and the crusades than I ever thought possible just by being on board for creative oversight. A while ago, Bailey told me “Mom, if everyone knew how smart you are, they would be so intimidated.” I swooned. Probably what he intended.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell

Red in small doses.....

I'm loving that I can change the background of the blog to correspond with my current post!

Just yesterday I was having a conversation with a girlfriend about how the perfect color of lipstick does not exist anywhere in the cosmetic world. To find the just right shade I have to apply lip liner, apply lipstick, blot, apply gloss, blot.

For years I've stuck with fairly light brown neutral lips, but with all the lovely redness coming into my life lately I've decided that branching out into more vibrant lips may be just the thing for me. (My mother will be thrilled to hear this as the most common words out of her mouth to me are "You need to put on some lipstick!"

Anyway, the other day (on my birthday) I was perusing the makeup aisles at Target and ended purchasing a "berry queen" bright red lipstick that looked gorgeous in the tube. Not so gorgeous on me though. Again, I found myself toning things down with brown liner and gold gloss.

This morning, I was finally cleaning up some of the Easter/Birthday mess on my dining room table and unpacked a box that my sister had given me. Nestled inside under the beautiful mugs and mangosteen tea was a little box of Yes to Carrots lip tints and glosses! OMGoddess! Two brown colors and two bright red ones! Guess what? They're all perfect - alone or combined or whatever the heck I feel like.

The universe conspires in our favor in big and small ways. My universe is obviously in favor of luscious shiny red Deva lips!

Having the Reddest Day Ever! Hope you are too.

In Grace,

Kell

39 and holding......

Today is the first day of my 40th year in time and space (this time). Thinking back to when I was little, I never could have comprehended a birthday when I turn 39. Even better, I never would have imagined that I look forward to this year more than any other before, that I feel more alive than I ever have, more magical, more connected to the All That Is.

Although I look forward to turning 40 next year, there's something about being 39 that just seems really special and kick-ass. Like the old cliche of a woman staying this age forever might be true. When I turn 60, 70, 80, 120, I hope I still feel like I feel today.

I've been thinking about numbers today and reviewing my numerology book by Glynis McCants. 39 is a 3 year, which coincidentally is what the calendar of 2010 also is so that's kinda cool. Three is very social and loves to be the center of attention, loves to entertain - threes are comics, musicians, actors, artists, writers - so I love the idea that this year I can really throw myself into practicing some of those talents and having the experience really resonate with where I am in time.

Another thing I noticed when reviewing my chart is that my birthday number is a 5. (Well, duh!) But birthday numbers represent what others see in us upon first impression, and oddly enough, the number 5 symbolizes adventure, excitement, a kaleidoscope of experiences.  The fact that I have a 5 anywhere in my chart tells me that being an adventurer is something I have missed out on, something I would have enjoyed all along, and no wonder I think its important now.

I always think of my birthday as a New Year's Day of sorts and like to reset my intentions and visualizations for the coming year. It's fun to think about where I might be on April 5 2011 and what I will have experienced and accomplished between now and then.  One of my calendar year intentions was to "honor my truth" more. I love that saying - can't remember who said it - that goes "I would rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not."

One of the things I've perused today is how this blog is giving me the opportunity to face the fears that accompany that intention as more people are beginning to look at and take an interest in it.  When I first started writing, I imagined being transparent in front of strangers or people I hadn't seen since high school 20 years ago.  It's harder to be transparent in front of the people who have known me my whole life and who have an investment in who I was 5, 10, 25 years ago. If someone I don't know doesn't like something I say, they can just not read for a while or simply discount that particular piece of information. But, the people who are stuck with me, and I with them, may not be able to just brush past things they think I should not be saying or thinking.  The fear is that I have changed so much that complete transparency would permanently alter those relationships. That they would become not about the relationship itself, but about how I have changed and how I need to be "fixed."

But, I realize the opposite is not true. I don't judge those who I am now different from for being different from me. I simply want them to be as happy and self-realized as they can possibly be where they are at right now. I'm also having an aha! moment of remembering what so many of the self-empowerment authors I've read have said - I know being totally transparent here is what I'm supposed to do by the very fact that it terrifies me.  Funny how acknowledging that makes me feel a million better.

Here's my Red Velvet birthday cake, and me today with the gorgeous Deva flowers I bought for myself.

Today has been spent in inner adventures rather than outer ones - I'm honoring where I am in my Moon Cycle and not pushing the excitement envelope when my soul is saying "come inward, come inward!"


I have truly had the Reddest Birthday ever!

In Grace,

Kell

Passionate pleasure is following me everywhere!

I didn't intend this blog to be about my sexuality, but the universe just keeps throwing it in my face! Today when dropping off my 4th grader at school, I was behind a white SUV with a big magnetic business card on the back that said "Passion Parties" by Michele somebody or other.  I was intrigued so googled it when I got home. It's an in-home sales party for sex toys, lubricants, lingerie, and sex manuals.  Think Tupperware or Mary Kay on double shots of estrogen and oxytocin! I don't think I know enough women here in my  new community to hostess such a party, but there is no way I'm not calling this woman. Any gal who would drive through a grade school parking lot with an advertisement for vibrators is a Deva I definitely want to know.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

Kell