01. Aspire to focus on the good, and always count one's blessings.
02. Embody the change I wish to see, not only in the world, but also in myself by striving to be the best version of me.
03. Accept that setbacks occur, and learn to utilize them as a catalyst for growth.
03B. Then, revisiting these same lessons until they are learned, to prevent the formation of patterns.
04. Prioritze the people and things that serve the greatest good, distance oneself from those which are destructive.
05. Remember that each day is a brand new opportunity to conquer the world, and to wake up with an attitude of gratitude.
06. Take inventory with oneself regularly, in order to ensure all needs are being met.
07. Silence the mind long enough to listen to intuition.
08. Set out to accomplish at least one ignored task daily.
09. Realize health and self-care are crucial; strive to lead a healthier, cleaner life.
10. Defeat the urge to be hypercritical of others or of oneself; focus on honesty instead.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Hurt.
She permitted a single, sobering tear to stream down her right cheek,
as she tightened her grip on my hand, and began to speak:
"You asked me where it hurts, and forgiveness would not be an easy task, if I were to lie and pretend I am fine, instead of wearing many masks."
"It hurts everywhere", she continued, "there is no inch of me without pain. Nor is there a moment in my day without ache, tension, or strain."
Then the dam broke, and her sadness poured from her like a flood,
waves of nausea washed over me at the sight of her sadness stained by civilian blood.
"Take for instance, Israel or the Gaza Strip, right here in the Middle East," at this, she pointed to her abdomen and winced like it was being devoured by some unseen beast.
Humans have destroyed me, killing one another in the process,
the ugliness of man is unlike any other to prevent its own progress.
Their bombs rip me to shreds, and replace my beauty with craters;
once there was a time the other planets envied my never-ending nature.
Now, they laugh at me, for allowing myself to grow old and decay,
if I could do one thing over, I would have refused to let humans have their way.
As soon as they invented gunpowder, I knew the end was near,
now I peacefully await my death, I no longer have any fear.
They forced one another into camps, waged wars creating wastelands, drained my oceans of water, and shortened my once eternal lifespan."
At this, she sagely crossed her legs and sat down on the ground,
she began to cradle Africa and screamed, without emitting a sound.
"This is where it all began, but then greed robbed my daughter of her speech, every evil man on Earth had his way with her, then erased her history with bleach
Once, her wildlife was teeming, elephants, and rhinos roamed the Serengeti, but now even her diamonds have been plucked and resold, although they were once free."
She began to cough, as she recalled nations overwhelmed by smog,
pollution filled her lungs, and toxic waste filled her arteries with clogs.
"I am unsure what I did to deserve such ungrateful guests,
who took the resources I gave them, then raped me and took the rest.
You asked me where it hurts, and I can only reply with 'everywhere,'
no mother exists who could survive her own child's chemical warfare."
as she tightened her grip on my hand, and began to speak:
"You asked me where it hurts, and forgiveness would not be an easy task, if I were to lie and pretend I am fine, instead of wearing many masks."
"It hurts everywhere", she continued, "there is no inch of me without pain. Nor is there a moment in my day without ache, tension, or strain."
Then the dam broke, and her sadness poured from her like a flood,
waves of nausea washed over me at the sight of her sadness stained by civilian blood.
"Take for instance, Israel or the Gaza Strip, right here in the Middle East," at this, she pointed to her abdomen and winced like it was being devoured by some unseen beast.
Humans have destroyed me, killing one another in the process,
the ugliness of man is unlike any other to prevent its own progress.
Their bombs rip me to shreds, and replace my beauty with craters;
once there was a time the other planets envied my never-ending nature.
Now, they laugh at me, for allowing myself to grow old and decay,
if I could do one thing over, I would have refused to let humans have their way.
As soon as they invented gunpowder, I knew the end was near,
now I peacefully await my death, I no longer have any fear.
They forced one another into camps, waged wars creating wastelands, drained my oceans of water, and shortened my once eternal lifespan."
At this, she sagely crossed her legs and sat down on the ground,
she began to cradle Africa and screamed, without emitting a sound.
"This is where it all began, but then greed robbed my daughter of her speech, every evil man on Earth had his way with her, then erased her history with bleach
Once, her wildlife was teeming, elephants, and rhinos roamed the Serengeti, but now even her diamonds have been plucked and resold, although they were once free."
She began to cough, as she recalled nations overwhelmed by smog,
pollution filled her lungs, and toxic waste filled her arteries with clogs.
"I am unsure what I did to deserve such ungrateful guests,
who took the resources I gave them, then raped me and took the rest.
You asked me where it hurts, and I can only reply with 'everywhere,'
no mother exists who could survive her own child's chemical warfare."
Friday, November 04, 2016
Wrecked.
Reduced to rubble, from missiles careening,
sirens wail, signaling incoming threats.
Blood dyes the streets red from casualties,
filling the air with the unmistakable stench of death.
Children orphaned in seconds,
from wars waged for the greed of men,
there is no humanity under duress,
when will we learn to love instead?
Entire cities destroyed in an instant,
they say all is fair in love and war,
widespread suffering and sadness
replace the peace that existed before.
All this ugliness for no reason,
for hand drawn borders in vain,
until mankind relinquishes its ego,
history will repeat itself again.
sirens wail, signaling incoming threats.
Blood dyes the streets red from casualties,
filling the air with the unmistakable stench of death.
Children orphaned in seconds,
from wars waged for the greed of men,
there is no humanity under duress,
when will we learn to love instead?
Entire cities destroyed in an instant,
they say all is fair in love and war,
widespread suffering and sadness
replace the peace that existed before.
All this ugliness for no reason,
for hand drawn borders in vain,
until mankind relinquishes its ego,
history will repeat itself again.
Friday, October 21, 2016
Birds Of A Feather.
She walks with her head held high, with the majesty of birds of prey. With her hips swinging rhythmically, she commands any room she enters, turning heads for different reasons. Her gait emulates American bald eagles, yet society solely see her as a peacock.
A woman can only be pretty, they say her beauty is all that defines her. These double standards are restrictive, and prevent girls from becoming hawks; it forces them into a brand, then keeps them locked up in a box.
Pigeonholed by the age of three, young women are being programmed to believe they can only be desired for their looks.
They are discouraged from being bold, ridiculed for being brave but males—they can be anything and are supported by their peers.
For a female to be confident like a crow, or as self-important as a snowy owl is demeaning. She must possess the grace of a crane, or like a bird of paradise, she should be aesthetically appealing.
Some of her sisters even keep their distance, choosing to side with their oppressors who coop them up like chickens. What they fail to see is that these false concepts were created by frightened men in suits in conference rooms, and board room meetings.
They were designed to keep women inferior, and confined to lives centred on their wombs which they cannot even control. Unjust ideals invented to prevent equality, to ensure that daughters of Eve stay in their lanes that lead to dead ends on one way streets.
For a sister or a mother to aspire to fly is laughable to men who have never even attempted to take flight. They think their superiority is innate, because their fathers tell them lies that are then corroborated by heads of state.
Whether equality is ever achieved or not, I still believe it is more admirable to be a bird with clipped wings who is determined to soar, than a cowardly ostrich with his head buried deep in the dirt.
It is still preferable to see these young ladies rallying together as ravens, instead of conceding to defeat from their counterparts, cackling geese who have become complacent.
Comfortable with the idea of spending their existence as common pheasants instead of daring to be different. Wrens whose wings were rendered obsolete, toucans who traded in beaks for pressed white dress shirts, higher wages, and a false concept of masculinity that is so weak.
They are threatened by free women, like the huntress lioness who provides for her hungry children. Men are emasculated by matriarchs who are self-sufficient as their existence relies on feeling needed. A woman who prevails without a male unnerves them to their very core.
Without the women they marginalized, upon whom they are still dependent, these daft dodo birds helplessly become endangered. They are then sentenced to death by the same double standards they delivered, a fate more bittersweet than it is sour.
Even the most explicitly misogynistic males transform into mourning doves once they are deprived of their subjugated swans' direction. Suddenly, there is no evidence of their strength and they are lost without the guidance of the quetzal queens they counted as mere possessions.
A woman can only be pretty, they say her beauty is all that defines her. These double standards are restrictive, and prevent girls from becoming hawks; it forces them into a brand, then keeps them locked up in a box.
Pigeonholed by the age of three, young women are being programmed to believe they can only be desired for their looks.
They are discouraged from being bold, ridiculed for being brave but males—they can be anything and are supported by their peers.
For a female to be confident like a crow, or as self-important as a snowy owl is demeaning. She must possess the grace of a crane, or like a bird of paradise, she should be aesthetically appealing.
Some of her sisters even keep their distance, choosing to side with their oppressors who coop them up like chickens. What they fail to see is that these false concepts were created by frightened men in suits in conference rooms, and board room meetings.
They were designed to keep women inferior, and confined to lives centred on their wombs which they cannot even control. Unjust ideals invented to prevent equality, to ensure that daughters of Eve stay in their lanes that lead to dead ends on one way streets.
For a sister or a mother to aspire to fly is laughable to men who have never even attempted to take flight. They think their superiority is innate, because their fathers tell them lies that are then corroborated by heads of state.
Whether equality is ever achieved or not, I still believe it is more admirable to be a bird with clipped wings who is determined to soar, than a cowardly ostrich with his head buried deep in the dirt.
It is still preferable to see these young ladies rallying together as ravens, instead of conceding to defeat from their counterparts, cackling geese who have become complacent.
Comfortable with the idea of spending their existence as common pheasants instead of daring to be different. Wrens whose wings were rendered obsolete, toucans who traded in beaks for pressed white dress shirts, higher wages, and a false concept of masculinity that is so weak.
They are threatened by free women, like the huntress lioness who provides for her hungry children. Men are emasculated by matriarchs who are self-sufficient as their existence relies on feeling needed. A woman who prevails without a male unnerves them to their very core.
Without the women they marginalized, upon whom they are still dependent, these daft dodo birds helplessly become endangered. They are then sentenced to death by the same double standards they delivered, a fate more bittersweet than it is sour.
Even the most explicitly misogynistic males transform into mourning doves once they are deprived of their subjugated swans' direction. Suddenly, there is no evidence of their strength and they are lost without the guidance of the quetzal queens they counted as mere possessions.
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