Power

You have a power that has nothing to do with what you do
or what you say
or who you know
or what you know
or where you are
or what you look like
or your skills
or your talents
or what you have.
It is the power of your presence.
It is the heat and light from your burning log.
And it touches everyone who comes in contact with you.

– Paul Williams, Remember your Essence

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Self-Expression and Our Basic Natures

“…the need to express who we are is archetypal; that is both necessary and timeless. And expressing who we are is less about describing ourselves than it is about letting who we are out in a regular rhythm that is an imperative as breathing.

“It is this exchange or flow of who we are- in and out- that keeps us connected to all that is living.

“Just as we must inhale and exhale hundreds of times a day, we must feel and express constantly. When out of balance we suffer….”

“Ultimately, expressing who we are has a physics all its own. More than being understood, it is about not hiding our basic nature.

“Essentially, the life of expression is the ongoing journey of how we heal each other… for by telling our stories and listening to the stories of others, we let out who we are and find ourselves in each other, and find that we are more together than alone.”

~Mark Nepo from The Exquisite Risk: Daring to Live an Authentic Life

Sensuality

Sensuality does not wear a watch but she always gets to the essential places on time. She is adventurous and not particularly quiet. She was reprimanded in grade school because she couldn’t sit still all day long. She needs to move. She thinks with her body. Even when she goes to the library to read Emily Dickinson or Emily Bronte, she starts reading out loud and swaying with the words, and before she can figure out what is happening, she is asked to leave. As you might expect, she is a disaster at office jobs.

Sensuality has exquisite skin and she appreciates it in others as well. There are other people whose skin is soft and clear and healthy but something about Sensuality’s skin announces that she is alive. When the sun bursts forth in May, Sensuality likes to take off her shirt and feel the sweet warmth of the sun’s rays brush across her shoulder. This is not intended as a provocative gesture but other people are, as usual, upset. Sensuality does not understand why everyone else is so disturbed by her. As a young girl, she was often scolded for going barefoot.

Sensuality likes to make love at the border where time and space change places. When she is considering a potential lover, she takes him to the ocean and watches. Does he dance with the waves? Does he tell her about the time he slept on the beach when he was seventeen and woke up in the middle of the night to look at the moon? Does he laugh and cry and notice how big the sky is?

It is spring now, and Sensuality is very much in love these days. Her new friend is very sweet. Climbing into bed the first time, he confessed he was a little intimidated about making love with her. Sensuality just laughed and said, ‘But we’ve been making love for days.”

― J. Ruth GendlerThe Book of Qualities

Happiness

It’s not the job of this town to make me feel happy. It’s not this town´s fault that I don’t feel I fit in. It doesn’t matter where you are in the world, because it’s about where you are in your head. It’s about the other world I inhabit. The world of dreams, hope, imagination, and memories. I’m happy up here, and because of that I’m happy up there too.

― Cecelia Ahern, If You Could See Me Now

The Moon

Her antiquity in preceding and surviving succeeding tellurian generations: her nocturnal predominance: her satellitic dependence: her luminary reflection: her constancy under all her phases, rising and setting by her appointed times, waxing and waning: the forced invariability of her aspect: her indeterminate response to inaffirmative interrogation: her potency over effluent and refluent waters: her power to enamour, to mortify, to invest with beauty, to render insane, to incite to and aid delinquency: the tranquil inscrutability of her visage: the terribility of her isolated dominant resplendent propinquity: her omens of tempest and of calm: the stimulation of her light, her motion and her presence: the admonition of her craters, her arid seas, her silence: her splendour, when visible: her attraction, when invisible.”

― James JoyceUlysses