I cut 3 roses from the garden the other morning and put them in a vase. I placed the vase on my desk and as I typed my e-mails, I admired the beauty of these delicate creations of nature. The fragrance was so strong and sweet, I found it strangely intoxicating. The delicious colors ranged from a creamy ivory to a fushia/red and in there silent eloquence, they reminded be of a trio of opera singers. The large one in the middle was singing a full aria. The exquisite pick/peach/apricot colored rose was practicing scales and the one on the right was just humming, preparing for her debut as a full-bloomed rose/singer.
There is a wonderful musical called "Starting Here, Starting Now" written by Richard Maltby and David Shire. One of the songs is called "Bells", and the male singer is extolling the virtues of being able to hear bells when admiring the visual beauty of the world. He chirps, "call me mad, but of course you will, put me under lock and key." Maybe I'm a little mad to see/hear my roses as vocalists in a trio. Why not? It is all beauty for the senses.
I found this saying the other day that goes like this.....
"Once you believe in yourself and see your soul as divine and precious, you will automatically become a being who can create a miracle." I don't remember where I read this and I would also add that it is not us creating the miracle, but our higher power, but why quibble. I had a miracle the other day come in the way of a FB message.
Long ago I put myself at the mercy of rock musicians in bands that had some kind of notoriety. I felt I had some value when I went home with the guitar player or a drummer and spent the night with them. How naive, blind and in denial I was back then. So on FB a few days ago, mentioning to an aging rock star how I still marvel at the fact I got to make out with him when I was 17, I had no idea he would respond with, "no, I got to make out with YOU when you were 17, lucky me." I never stopped to think of the possibility, he was the lucky one. Kinda miraculous. Valueing myself so much that the tables were turned, and I was the desirable one in the equation. Why does it take so long to rid oneself of the damage done by ones parents and see the divinity and precious nature of ones own being and soul.
"God doesn't make any mistakes" a fridge magnet reads out.
It has happened. I am priceless. A prize. I love myself unconditionally. What a journey to get to this place but I've made it. All my gifts will come as God so wills it.
We look to our parents when we are young, and take our self-esteem from their reactions to us and what we do. That is why being a mother or father is the most thing in this world that we do, for by loving our young ones unconditionally, we set the stage for future peace and tranquility by caring for a soul the way it should be. With all my abandonment issues, it is hard to remember sometimes that I am worthy of giving and receiving love, but I AM, and so are you. At our age, it is not the beauty of the body that determines the genesis of a relationship, but the depth of the heart, the patience of the mind, and the wisdom of the soul.
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