bodies « WordPress.com Tag Feed

100 Best Quotes From “The Wire”

Stretch MacGibbon — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 20:59:10 +0000

Mos def

Ya feel me

Robbie Williams in diretta radio: "Ayda mi vuoi sposare?"

chriup — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 13:50:00 +0000

Il re del Brit-pop, Robbie Williams dopo essere tornato al successo con il suo nuovo album, “R

One Winter's Night

1writegirl — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 08:04:39 +0000

One of these nights
When words are
Too heavy
When the darkness is
Too cold

Lay me down
Beside you
Flesh against flesh
Warm and tender
Under llamas wool

Let our dreams
Come and go
Like fingertips

Grazing temples
And souls

In the midst of breath
Between us

Loose
Unbound
And
Gentle

For the duration of
One winter’s night

One blue moon
One light in the shadows

From spellbound dusk
Till breaking dawn

For just a few hours
Banish the hate
Shut out the fear
And despair

Forget you don’t know
How to love

Find reprieve
With me
In the silence

Of night

In the act
Of silent

Communion

She Had Some Horses by Joy Harjo

littleREDelf — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 19:53:41 +0000

She Had Some Horses

She had some horses.

She had horses who were bodies of sand.
She had horses who were maps drawn of blood.
She had horses who were skins of ocean water.
She had horses who were the blue air of sky.
She had horses who were fur and teeth.
She had horses who were clay and would break.
She had horses who were splintered red cliff.

She had some horses.

She had horses with long, pointed breasts.
She had horses with full, brown thighs.
She had horses who laughed too much.
She had horses who threw rocks at glass houses.
She had horses who licked razor blades.

She had some horses.

She had horses who danced in their mothers’ arms.
She had horses who thought they were the sun and their bodies shone and burned like stars.
She had horses who waltzed nightly on the moon.
She had horses who were much too shy, and kept quiet in stalls of their own making.

She had some horses.

She had horses who liked Creek Stomp Dance songs.
She had horses who cried in their beer.
She had horses who spit at male queens who made them afraid of themselves.
She had horses who said they weren’t afraid.
She had horses who lied.
She had horses who told the truth, who were stripped bare of their tongues.

She had some horses.

She had horses who called themselves, “horse.”
She had horses who called themselves, “spirit.” and kept their voices secret and to themselves.
She had horses who had no names.
She had horses who had books of names.

She had some horses.

She had horses who whispered in the dark, who were afraid to speak.
She had horses who screamed out of fear of the silence, who carried knives to protect themselves from ghosts.
She had horses who waited for destruction.
She had horses who waited for resurrection.

She had some horses.

She had horses who got down on their knees for any savior.
She had horses who thought their high price had saved them.
She had horses who tried to save her, who climbed in her bed at night and prayed as they raped her.

She had some horses.

She had some horses she loved.
She had some horses she hated.

These were the same horses.

~ Joy Harjo

Islamic Extremists Execute Young Convert in Somalia

Particular Kev — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 00:45:52 +0000

Christian accused of trying to convert Muslim teenager found shot on Mogadishu street. NAIROBI, Keny

Biopower - an effective philosophy of the body?

yafflecat — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 11:13:28 +0000

Biopower is a term invented by the French philosopher, Michel Foucault. It refers to the regulation of subjects of any modern state, and more specifically, to our bodies subjugation through “an explosion of numerous and diverse techniques for achieving the control of populations”. The term first appeared in The Will to Knowledge, Foucault’s first volume of The History of Sexuality.

With the term ‘Biopower’, Foucault designates the set of mechanisms, techniques and technologies through which the basic biological features of the human species become the object of political strategies in modern Western societies.

It relates to the Government’s concern with fostering the life of the population and emphasises the protection of life rather than the threat of death, through the regulation of the body.

But this has resulted in us all being force-fed a check list of responsibilities. From improved eating habits, constant health warnings, ‘correct’ reproductive practices, to rather more ‘PC’ concepts of “family”, “blood“, and “well-being”. Apart from the fact that we might think we know what our bodies need better than the state does – there is an underlying danger in the idea of power serving the ‘protection of the collective body’.

When the state uses its power to protect the health of the population – when the stakes are life itself, anything can be justified. Groups identified as the threat to the existence of the life of the nation or of humanity can be eradicated with impunity. This is indeed a dark side to the notion that Biopower is an effective philosophy of the body.

As someone who is still learning about how my body functions most effectively, and how far I can push myself (and the consequences of burn-out) – I have acquired a better understanding in Sanjuro classes of my limitations, and how to manage my stamina, injuries and attitudes to my health, through an emphasis on the individual. Unlike the concept of Biopower, Sanjuro respects that each body, and each of our strengths and weaknesses can all be used, and can all be rendered effective and understood. We are all the sum of our parts, just as the populations ‘body’ is a constantly evolving thing, which should be not subjugated and tamed, but listened to, instead.

hurr

colormegolden — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 04:25:11 +0000

I find few things in life so relaxing as having my hair washed, cut, and combed. My poor stylist must think I’m a social dunce with my inept conversing. Can’t carry it on when I’m in such a lovely daze, you know. She always tries so hard, except for that time after spring break when I flat out told her I was dealing with a hangover. Then she was nice and quiet.

No one ever massages your head, you know? Well, no one ever massages my head, at least. I go to the salon, stick my head in the sink, and the shampoo girl slathers my hair with delightfully scented soaps. And they linger! Those first couple days after a cut I’m always sniffing my hair for trace aromas. Then my locks are teased and lopped, snipped and chopped. All the gentle tugging and feathery brushes. It’s sensory delight, I tell you.

I miss the days when we used to braid each other’s hair. Kids know what’s up.

Music Monday - Not Perfect

sanabituranima — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 19:20:36 +0000

Oh Lord, You have searched me and You know me. And for some reason, You still haven’t given up

Mexico

raphaelraphael — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 03:08:58 +0000

To all the Mexicans
To all the Mexicans in Mexico, who kill women for sexual pleasures, personal gratification, dismembering their bodies and torturing them! You have been weighted in the balances and found guilty of inhumane acts against humanity; your days are now upon you.
An ugly disease shall take over your bodies, a worm shall eat your genitals and it shall lay their eggs there and its offspring shall travel to various parts of your body and eat away body parts, as those parts of the body of the women you have dismembered to satisfied your urges.
There are no cures; your death shall be a slow process. You shall lie in your bed of affliction to recount the innocent young women you had so violated and mercilessly killed. There shall be no mercy on your dying bed, only excruciating pain and
remembrance.
©2008

moderndallas.weekly..... Clifford Miles Welch house // RISE by Joshua King // Float + BODIES

moderndallas.net — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 13:58:04 +0000

moderndallas.weekly….. Clifford Miles Welch house // RISE by Joshua King // Float + BODIES // modern open houses // http://bit.ly/903RTp

Spirit Search Five - Rye

traceinthislife — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 03:35:58 +0000

It almost seems like a lifetime ago that I was on my last spirit search. And even though these searches are a very important part of my life, one thing about being spiritual that you learn fairly quickly is this – everything happens in it’s own time, no matter how much you want it to be different. And although I desperately wanted to pursue more spirit searches, Spirit had decreed it was time for me to take a break….I had other things to do.

And they were quite boring in comparison! Being artists, Mal and I decided to take a couple of months to get some of our “wares” together for a market stall in January. And while we were excited at that prospect, I knew deep down – and Spirit showed me – that this was to be my focus for a month or so. So I begrudgingly agreed – I would put my searches aside until “they” said differently.

A long, uneventful month passed, and when I got close to finishing my market products, the most wonderful thing happened – I started to get some guidance about where to do my next Spirit Searches. I was excited! Finally, a chance to “get away from the grind”, so to speak, and go and do something fun! So I began back at the start – searching the internet for haunted sites around Melbourne.

I read some very interesting information about “haunted Melbourne”. For one, there seems to be so many haunted sites in the city that ghost tours are held on a weekly basis. And they are somewhat of a tourist attraction, something that puzzles me a bit. Why are we as humans so fascinated with grisly crime, or tortured souls that roam the streets at night? Why is that entertaining? And why wasn’t anyone doing anything to help them? Deciding that I would put that on my “to do” list, I searched on, and found one more interesting fact. Apparently the State Library of Victoria is haunted with more that one spirit…but no one has ever died on that site. So why was it haunted at all? The ghost tour dude’s theory was that there used to be a Women’s Hospital across the road, and when it was demolished he thinks some spirits migrated across to the SLV. Interesting theory, I thought, and then another thought occurred to me – if a death doesn’t have to occur to make a place haunted, what does?

This opened the door for me to try some more experiments. And although I was anxious to go into the city and see what “ghosts” I could “bust” there, I figured the best place to start was right in my own hometown. And the common denominator, it seems, was sudden and violent death. I mean, I’m sure there are plenty of hauntings that occur for other reasons, like the person just doesn’t want to “move” away from family, friends, or their home – but there was something about violent deaths that seemed to be a precursor for hauntings. So, I turned my search to here, right on the Mornington Peninsula, to see what grisly things I could find!

And, it turns out, not that many grisly things have happened here! I mean, we’ve had our share, sure, but when compared to the city, it just didn’t seem like I had much to go on. But seeing as so many hauntings occur after a murder, I researched, and found two interesting occurrences – one murder, and one “Underbelly” type body burial….and they had both occurred with a km of each other, near the back beaches of Rye, Victoria.

I kinda have to laugh to myself at how Spirit leads the way sometimes (ok, all the time!) I had found that these two crimes had occurred, and when and where, but other details were very hard to find. For instance, there was the one murder, but I could not find the victims name, or the house number where it happened, The newspaper gave the street name, but that was it. And the “Underbelly” body dump mentioned the names of the victims, and that they had been buried in shallow graves at Rye back beach. Great, I thought, that back beach is huge….where the hell do I start?

I tentatively planned my investigation. Firstly, I would go to the murder scene, located at Roslyn Street, Rye, and walk up and down the street to see if I could find, or feel, where it had occurred. If the victim was still stuck there, I should be able to feel her, and help her to move on. Then I would try and locate the body burial site via dowsing, and see if we could pinpoint the location while in the area, to help those victims if needed. The investigation was planned, so now to get to the scene of the crimes!

As it turns out, we had business to attend to in Rye on this Friday morning, so it was Spirit, again, giving me the go-ahead. We drove to Rye on this humid, sticky Friday morning, and while Mal was conducting business, I stayed out in the car with a pendulum and a map to try and find exactly where we were going! The first problem the pendulum had to help me solve was which Roslyn I was looking for – Street or Avenue? Of course, Rye had both, and I hadn’t thought to write down that specific before I left. So I found both on the map, and asked the pendulum to circle the street where a murder had occurred. Roslyn Street was quickly circled, and it sounded right, so I marked it (and checking later, found, of course, the pendulum was spot on). I then asked the pendulum which section of the street it had happened on – this end or this end? It circled the right side of the street, so I decided that was enough, I had my directions to get to Roslyn…now, to that back beach!

This was to be interesting! As I said, the Rye back beach goes for miles, so trying to find where bodies had been buried and then discovered was kinda going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack! But the pendulum seemed to know something I didn’t, because there was this one are that it circled very strongly. I marked the spot, and off we went. Spirit search, psychic experiment, call it what you like….I was doing my thang again, and loving it!

I decided to go to Roslyn Street first and check that out. We found it easily, and it was in a lovely, rural type setting – very quiet, lots of trees, dirt roads…very hard to believe that something as cold as a murder could take place here. But facts were facts, and we were in the right place. After driving down the street once, we stopped at the end of the road, and Mal pulled over. “I’m going to need to go for a walk” I said to him. “Thats fine, take your time” says my wonderful hubby, “I’ll just pretend I’m checking something under the bonnet” So he popped the bonnet and went to stick his head in the engine bay, while I got what I needed – my camera. I actually felt a little conspicuous taking my camera down this little country lane – I mean, not really a good look! – so I opted to take my phone instead. I flipped it open to check the battery…and it was turned off. “Oh, my phones off?” I said, “Wow, thats not good, what if school had been trying to call me? I don’t even remember turning it off…” I quickly switched it on, and waited for it to find reception so I could get moving.

There I sat for a minute, and when I looked at the phone screen, it displayed a message: “Emergency calls only” Huh? I’d never seen that before…what the? I yelled out to Mal, who was at the front of the car, “It says Emergency calls only….what’s that mean?” He kinda shrugged, and then it clicked….I asked Spirit, “Are you showing me emergency calls only because THE emergency call about a murder was made from here?” I didn’t hear an answer…but the message disappeared from my phone instantly. Ok, I knew I was in the right place….now, which house?

Opening my camera, I decided to take a photo of the street sign, and when I did, I noticed that it had been played with as well. I saw a big “2″ displayed in the corner, which made me go “Huh?” again. My phone camera was a 3mp, and I had not changed the setting…but someone had. “OK, emergency calls, and the number 2. There’s my clues. I’m off”…and off I went, down this lovely little country lane…to find the site of a murder.

Luckily the street wasn’t that long, so before I knew it, I had reached the end, and turned to start back. Which house is it, I wondered. I got a few houses down, then felt pulled to a stop. I stood in the street, looking right, then left, then right, then left…like I couldn’t decide which house to focus on. So it had to be one of these, I thought, as I hadn’t felt anything at all anywhere else….but which house? Left, right, left, right….and then I remembered – the murderer had also lived in Roslyn Street…apparently right across the road from his victim. That explained it then, and when I had that fact “whispered” in my ear, I easily ruled one house out, and concentrated on the one on the right of me. This was the one. I stood back, grabbed my phone to take a photo, then noticed the house number….2.

So I had found what I was looking for; the question now was did I feel anything? No, I did not. Maybe because I was on the street, and not in the house….but thinking of those immigrating ghosts at the SLV made me think I would have felt something. The only way I wouldn’t, I reasoned, was if the victim had immediately crossed over, therefore not needing my help at all. I figured it better to be on the safe side; I called in Archangel Michael, and asked him to escort any souls that had been stuck here back to the Light. As I finished, I looked to my left, and there, flying across the driveway, was a beautiful white butterfly. And in spiritual circles, that represents two things – spirits on the Other Side, and transformation. OK, so going by Mr Butterfly, she had, indeed crossed over. Phew, I thought, that’s one less for me to worry about! Stepping away, I was guided to look down to the street – and there, in the sand, was a love heart, made with damp sand. Seeing as I was the only one in sight, and the day was dry and hot, I knew it to be a sign – a sign from this nameless victim (the most I got from her was her name was a “SH” name, like Sharon) that she was ok, but she very much appreciated my efforts. Cool, job one done….now to find that needle in the haystack!

We drove down the three streets that it took to take us to the circled section of back beach. There was a walking track that had been marked by the pendulum, and it didn’t look long, so off we went. Well, I did stop to grab one thing – my new toy. Called an EMF reader, it measured fluctuations in the energy around you, and is used by many paranormal investigators. I got a cheap one from Ebay to play with, and hadn’t had a chance to use it up until now. Because, you see, EMF readers are affected by electricity and mobile phones….which happen to be everywhere. Everywhere, that is, besides dense bush leading to a wild beach! So it would be perfect to play with my new toy here, where it would only be affected by spirit energy. Taking that in hand, we set off on the bush track…only slightly cursing the hot, humid day!

As we were walking the track, every now and then the EMF would go “BEEP!”, and the gauge would go off the scale. I would stop, check…and nothing. Maybe the spirits were just flying by me, I thought. So we kept on, climbing through this tiny little track, up hills, through trees and brush, with the EMF doing it’s little “BEEP” thing every now and then. After a while I stopped. “This is ridiculous” I said to Mal, “It is impossible to find this burial site. I mean, this brush is so dense it could’ve been anywhere. We may as well turn back” “It’s up to you.” replied Mal, and hearing oncoming voices decided it for me – no privacy? Out we go then.

So we turned and headed back. After walking at a brisk pace for a few minutes, we could hear the other hikers gaining on us – in fact, every now and then I heard a male voice say “Hello?”…and I assumed it was the hiker. (well, I still assume it to be the hiker, but you never know!) They seemed to be approaching us quickly, so we stopped to let them pass. And it wasn’t surprising to see that it was a couple, husband and wife by the looks, that passed us. The burial site we were looking for had contained the bodies of two people – a husband and his wife.

We hesitated at that spot for a second, and sure enough, here came the “BEEP” from my EMF friend. OK, so now we had the couple that passed us, the EMF giving its opinion…anything else to confirm we were in the right place? We both turned our eyes skyward as we heard the cawing of crows. And they kept coming – not just one to two, but many. And who knows what a number of crows is called? That’s right….a MURDER. So we had our signs that we had discovered the place, so all that was left was the usual – call in my mate Archangel Michael (we’re close, but I’m not quite at calling him Mick just yet!) to make sure that this poor husband and wife had crossed over.

Funnily enough, it felt unnecessary to even ask Archangel Michael’s help. Deep down, I felt that both of these cases had been closed before we even arrived…these souls had crossed over long before we got there. And that was great. It told me something too – that just because someone meets a gruesome end does not mean they are stuck here to roam restlessly until help arrives. No, it seemed to me that crossing in to the Light was a personal choice that all of us make – it’s just that some people, some times, choose not to make it. And these are the ones that I am looking for…..and will continue to look for as long as I’m on this side of the Light.

Gratitude

Katie — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 03:20:50 +0000

It’s that time of year; the (American) Thanksgiving Holiday is approaching in just a few days. And as I’m looking forward to sharing dinner with my family on Thursday, I’ve also been reflecting about what I’m grateful for.

It started a few weeks ago, at the gym, sitting in the sauna after a jaunt on the elliptical machine and a few laps in the pool. My whole body felt the perfect combination of relaxed and energized, and I felt so immensely grateful for the body that allows me to experience these things that feel so good. I love the sort of “floaty jogging” feel of the elliptical (at least that’s what being on the machine feels like to me!). I love the way the water feels on my body, providing both resistance and support, and so soft. I love the instant relaxation of the heat from the steam in the sauna.

In that moment I was awash with the realization of just how much I’m grateful for my body.

In my body I can dance, playfully shaking my hips or intimately swaying with a partner. In my body I can kiss, caress, and make love to my husband. In my body I can hug my sisters, touch the arm of a troubled friend, take the hand of a small child. In my body I can squeal or laugh when I’m happy and cry precious tears when I’m sad. In my body I can savor the delicious taste of just-barely-undercooked fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies and savor the juicy goodness of crisp, cold, fresh cucumbers. In my body I can close my eyes and listen to music or open my eyes to gaze at art, both of which inspire and transform me. In my body I get to feel the world around me—the wind on my face, the temperature of the air, the feeling and texture of my steering wheel or the crosswalk button or the straps of my purse. In this wonderful body I get to move throughout the world in a sensual way, experiencing both pure delight and transformative pain that challenges, teaches, and matures me.

And the cool thing? That my body size has no bearing whatsoever on my ability to delight in my body’s ability to do these amazing things.

So this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for my body, exactly as it is.

What are you grateful for?

Drowning Pool - Bodies Şarkı & Şarkı Sözleri & Çevirisi

kaangural — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 00:40:49 +0000

Bana 3 ay önce kuzenim dinletmişti . Kendisi rock dinlemez ama bu şarkıyı çok seviyordu . Bende sevmem ama bir dinleyeyim dedim ve beğendim . İzleyin & Dinleyin (:

Bodies
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the …
Floor!!!

Beaten why for? (why for?)
Can’t take much more…

Here we go! Here we go! Here we go!

One - Nothing wrong with me
Two - Nothing wrong with me
Three - Nothing wrong with me
Four - Nothing wrong with me
One - Something’s got to give
Two - Something’s got to give
Three - Something’s got to give
Now!

Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor

Push me again
This is the end

Here we go! Here we go! Here we go!

Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor

Skin against skin, blood and bone
You’re all by yourself but you’re not alone
You wanted in
Now you’re here
Driven by hate, consumed by fear

Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor!

Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor
Heey!
Go!
Heey!
Go!
Heey!
Go!
Heey!
Go!

Vucudlar
Birak bedenini dibe vursun
Birak bedenini dibe vursun
Birak bedenini dibe vursun
Birak bedenini dibe vursun

Yenilmek ne icin (Ne icin ?)
Dayanma gücüm kalmadi

Hadi bakalim, hadi bakalim, hadi bakalim

Bir- bende hersey yolunda , ben iyiyim
İki - bende hersey yolunda , ben iyiyim
Üc - bende hersey yolunda , ben iyiyim
Dört - bende hersey yolunda , ben iyiyim
Bir - bir seyler yapilmasi lazim
İki - bir seyler yapilmasi lazim
Üc - bir seyler yapilmasi lazim

Simdi

Beni tekrar sar
Iste bu son

Hadi bakalim

Ten tene karsi, kan ve kemik
Sen seninlesin ama yalniz degilsin
Bunu sen istedin
Simdi burdasin
Nefretle ilerledin
Korkuyla kaldin

Birak bedenini dibe vursun
Birak bedenini dibe vursun
Birak bedenini dibe vursun
Birak bedenini dibe vursun

The Lychee Toilets Experiment: Trial 1 = FLAVOUR

arisenphoenix — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 15:08:39 +0000

<GONG>

THE LYCHEE TOILETS EXPERIMENT: Trial 1 = FLAVOUR

Go ahead. Let your imagination run wild. What kind of experiment would possibly combine lychee with toilets? Maybe for cleaning, or sanitizing, or even, dare I say…for FLAVOUR?
…Now, I don’t know what you’re thinking in terms of flavour, but let me say, that I’m just thinking in terms of the “flavour” of aesthetics haha.

Okay, I’m completely lying. I have no idea what I mean by “flavour” either. It just seemed to fit really well with lychees (which do have lots of flavour), and toilets (which probably do not have much flavour…I would think you have not tried…Though I suppose you could ask your dog or cat. But that depends how well you can communicate with your animal. After all, if you can’t speak “canine-nese, or feline-nese”, how can you really know if your pet enjoys the flavour from the cleanest water in the house?…ahem.)

Hmm.. I also have no idea how to combine lychee with toilets, though I suppose I could come up with all sorts of ways. The experiment is just my little psychology thing to see whether the combination of lychee and toilets is enough to get your attention to shift your focus away from your either really fun or really busy life. Stop paying attention to the daily complexities of your life and enter a world of senseless, fantastical nonsense–The world of my Blog. Haha. Then again, if you’re already “living the dream”, well, God Bless you…that’s a great attitude to have…and may my oddly entertaining blog add some nonsensical wonder to your existence

Ok, so here’s an idea: Offer your comments. Be creative.

What do you think about when you hear the words “Lychee Toilets” + “Flavour”? I’ll post my thoughts too eventually

But for now. Here’s a random picture of a toilet shaped house. Maybe surrounded by lychee trees?

<GONG>

The Life and Death of the Identity

Sarah Lidsey — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 18:41:09 +0000

The Life and Death of the Identity

If you have been reading my posts you may have guessed that a major driver for me has been awakening. I have enthusiastically followed a path that has moved me to ever deepening levels of understanding about the true nature of being, consistently opening up and dropping into places within me that now hold no identity, where the personal is totally unimportant, and the impulse of pure, unrestricted creation is able to shine out. As I have shed the structures that have held my identity, I have come across some interesting challenges in relating to others and in relating to all those things to which our culture in the West gives value.

I have been looking at my experiences as my relationship to the ego and identity – prime structures of separation – have changed and how that relates to my movement through life back towards the pulse of Creation….. It starts for us all around the time of birth when we come into form, into Life, and create an I-dentity.

The ego-identity is part of the personality structure that develops throughout life. As a young child we are loved, nurtured, fed, held….or not. Out of these experiences we individuate into the people that we bring into our relationships both with ourselves and with others. We individuate from our parents but also from the pure impulse of Life, learning ways that hold us apart from the true nature of our beings as unfettered expressions of all creation. We move from a state of universal union in which the heart freely resonates with everything, without fear, to one that sees itself as a unique thing, separate, special, quantifiable, defended, and we develop a personality with defenses formed by fears related to perceived threats to our survival. These defenses create protective armoring not only in our musculature – affecting how we hold our bodies – but in how we express our energy through our emotional and mental responses to specific situations. With the fleshing out of our defenses, the ego is fully formed and with it a sense of ‘I’ – the I-dentity is born. And the bulk of this happens before our 7^th birthdays!!

None of us, unless Avataric, are spared this process of separation from the Mystery that is the Divine Creator. As we incarnate numerous veils of separation are created with the strength and resistance of Teflon, yet so thin as to be almost undetectable to microscopic ethereal examination. They are part of the spiritual skeleton of our beings. The presence of these veils makes any evolutionary move back into the unified field of pure creation impossible. You cannot awaken with them in place, and your unique life challenges and dramas will continue to repeat themselves for as long as you identify with the places of forgetting that they support. Unless spiritual evolution is one of your drivers they are unlikely to go, and you are equally unlikely to be interested in what might be the deeper truth behind your identity. But if it is, and when they do go, the ego can no longer hold onto its position as the leading character in the play that is your life, and so you lose your identity.

The persona that we identify with is reinforced throughout our lives, firstly by our parents who name us and generally instill in us certain values, beliefs, and prejudices that create the foundations of our realities. Then the reflection of our friends, acquaintances, and life experiences are added to the pot, and all these elements are embraced by our egos. Our identity, unique and separate, is then constantly reinforced by whoever we come into contact with. It happens on many levels but the first one is likely to be on meeting someone, when the questions we ask help form an impression of ‘self’ and ‘other’ in our minds. These ‘I am’s….’ that we exchange with each other help us to relate and each question asked builds an instantaneous picture, giving a sense of identity, interests and lifestyle. For example:

What do you do? ‘I am an art consultant/I am an energy therapist’

Where do you come from? ‘I am English, and I live in New York’

You can change your identity superficially by leaving your job without having the security of another to go to, or selling your home without any plans to find another, as I did. Either will most likely send a tremor of anxiety through your community of family and friends, and you may find that they attempt to lure you back by sending out tendrils of fear unconsciously designed to scare you back into the fold. You will be breaking the accepted mold, leaving behind the identity that defines you to them, and which they have helped you forge. You will probably find that you need to make adjustments as you create new relationships that reflect the movements in the axis of your existence.

Evolutionary levels of transformation and the human response to it, will occur when you move from merely swopping or adding identities to undermining core positions and beliefs, and the supports that hold them in place. When you do this the ego will be seriously threatened and the nature of the ego-identity has to adapt or die. Surface changes, like the ones mentioned above, can be the forerunners of the seismic movements that are going on in the inner planes of your being as you start dissolving the structures of your existence, and so too your I-dentity. A signature of significant change is the dropping away of things, habits, and people whose presence in your life no longer resonate with you or serve you. In relationships, if you can’t bridge the divides that can form as you change – and the onus falls on you to do this – then you will find that gradually your worlds drift apart.

As you embrace a new direction and challenge the nature of reality your extremely resilient ego is dented, but it takes on the changes as if it was going to gain from the direction you are taking. It embraces this change from an intellectual place and creates a new identity as you embark on your search for the truth. My ego-identity took on the identity of a spiritual path AND the spiritual seeker alongside the existing identities and the defended personality structures it already ruled. It was happy! It was behind this new venture! Everything was under control, and all was well in its new world. My interest in returning to Source had become something that my I-dentity , my ego, embraced as being fruitful to its long term wellbeing as an individual, even though it was not. It didn’t recognize that it had everything to lose – that for it the perception of gain was just another illusion.

Personally speaking, my journey is not unique. Like many, I created a fabulous and strong ego that allowed me to successfully navigate the challenges that I met on my life’s path. The impulse to awaken to the true nature of my being was not apparent to me and it didn’t start to emerge until I was in my 30s and I started to feel some dissatisfaction with what I was creating in my life. Whether we know it consciously or not, there is generally a subliminal pull that leads us, by hook or by crook, forward towards a reunion with Self. Until that point the ego, and its many masks, rules. In my case it was never asked to step aside and allow what was behind the mask of identity to come through, because there was no awareness that there was anything other to relate with. My identity until that time, had shifted, morphed, been knocked a little, but remained clear. Looking back, I can chart how I, as an adult, moved through life and how I got to where I am today. My true nature remained quietly hidden, waiting until I got fed up with the play that I had created. It has gone something like this:

I lived a materially successful and socially active life – I conformed with the accepted standards of my peers to a large degree.
I started to get panic attacks when some of the most painful relational woundings of my childhood began to appear in my adult relationships. My passion for my work into which I had put 100% of my being was seriously compromised and I turned to the healing arts for help, through therapy and hands-on healing.
I connected, with the help of my healer, to parts of me that I never realized existed before or had forgotten – I experienced expanded states of being and became fascinated with quantum theories and realities.
I started to read about, train in, and experience other levels of existence. My awareness and my energetic container expanded enormously.
I found teachers who reflected to me the true nature of being and encouraged me as I stepped into the stream of the awakening path. Their awake and aware consciousness helped me to evolve.
I stopped planning, dropped structure, and went with the flow of Life. I sold my apartment and put all my belongings with the exception of a suitcase of clothes into storage and I traveled to places around the world that I felt called to visit.
I lost my sense of the personal; my sense of being in any way special; my identity with a spiritual or any other path; my templates for existence, and my identity.

It wasn’t until the supports that maintained the drama of my existence began to crumble that the ego’s throttle-hold on my life weakened, and so did my sense of identity. But it wasn’t until the core veils went that held me in separation from Self, that the nature of my journey shifted. I had had transcendent experiences, tastes of bliss or emptiness that felt like they must be what enlightenment is all about, but until the structures of separation disappeared, I didn’t recognize that these were little more than expanded states, amazing experiences that have very little to do with true awakening. My I-dentity remained intact until the intellectual understanding dropped from my head and traveled right through my heart into the core of existence. Often, for this to happen, you are called to face your greatest fear – the one that holds your deepest life-long wounding – and this is what happened for me too. Only by surrendering did the structures that I had thought were there to protect me reveal themselves to be keeping me from my heart’s desire for reunion with the Beloved, the Creator of All that Is, and with this awareness they dissolved. When this happens there is no choice but to wake up from your dream to the reality that there is ‘no one’ there.

Firstly, and most importantly, you wake up to the knowledge that there is no personal I-dentity with who you were. When you actively hunt for it in the corridors and rooms of your existence there is no ‘I’. I was then aware that I am nothing but an expression of the pulse of creation. This knowing was slim at the beginning, but as I started to live life from this place, embodying it as fully as I could, each aspect of identity that had built up over the course of my life started to crumble. For me it was two years from a point where I recognized that the Identity had gone to a point where I had embodied this awareness to a place of real understanding. Like me, you may feel echoes of your identity through the conditioned responses that still trigger you – and language demands that you refer to it all the time – but the seeker, the do-er, the sense of personal, they go, along with other aspects of your being. For me, one amazing part of this was in finding commonality with beautiful or mundane lifeforms around me, and really seeing that with the ‘death’ of my ego-identity I was just another essence expressed in Life, no different from any other, and part of the whole.

This life is a journey, that’s for sure! The death of the identity is not The End. It is one step deeper into The Mystery!

B(alloons) flat

Cami — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 08:01:25 +0000

as i fly over this time
Thulani Davis

for Dianne McIntyre

as i fly over this time
rising over only this
so much painted suffering
unseen grimaces and stares
among spruce greens
these few forests left
all of us trying to be alone
quiet and blind.
*
i see soldiers in bus stations
with colored names
polaroid shots
their girlfriends chew gum
smile wide
*
in all this silver of sky
like stars these wheels
car gears lampshades
electrical refuse
zen oiled and greased
the believers now so many
now so tired of the sad songs
the endless yearnings for war
and more and more
*
dumb cries i sigh
trying to get out of town
i am writing on the wall
it will be painted over
like all the songs
once outside
but as i fly over this time
*
dianne is dancing
touching the far reaches
leaping and teaching
she strokes and struts the air
none of us stumbles
or fears their lives
steel beams and rail tracks
strike an E-flat, B-flat, A
E-flat, B-flat, A
dianne is dancing
no one can handle the hostages
terror is abandoned
because of light
breaking in leaves
because the center is gone
we are still breathing
and the swing is our bodies

New Moon Review

cherrykillsme — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 02:14:04 +0000

Spoiler alert.

So, I just got back from the Twilight + New Moon evening here in Stockholm.
And I am.. well.. it haven’t really gotten to me yet.

The evening started with entering the cinema to watch Twilight with a billion fifteen year old girls again.
And although I’ve seen the movie and read the books so many times, it still gets to me every time.
There is something magical captured from the book in that movie.
And it left me all warmed up, as the clock finally passed twelve and New Moon was up.

And I feel empty.

I’m gonna be honest. (Yes I’m a dork).
The novel New Moon made me cry my heart out.
Not only because of Edward and all the drama, but because I recognized myself in Bella’s agony, the pain, the grief and in the way she closed herself into her own world and stopped living.
I could feel her, touch her thoughts.
I wanted to comfort her, because I understood.

So yes, I had high expectations.
I knew that I probably would be disappointed.
But it had to take a guy to ruin the magic that the movie Twilight captured.
Yes, Twilight didn’t have the budget and it’s far from perfect.
It even has a lot of flaws and ugly cuts.
And still - every single time Bella gets on the plain to Forks, it gives me the chills.
It’s like you could touch her, feel the moisture in that cool air.
You could have been the one moving, the one to accidently catch Edwards gaze that first day in school.
It was all there. The way he looks at her, their body language.
The love.

New Moon doesn’t have that last edge.
The special effects were magical and the movie had a lot of warmth and humour.
It is a good movie – but it doesn’t hold that last twist that Twilight owned.
New Moon has the romantic scenes, it succeeded in Jacob.
But you couldn’t really get Edward and Bella.
You can’t feel how extremely ripped open she is - and why he wants to die.
I waited and waited to understand.
Yes, I heard a few sobs next to me from the girls. They probably loved it, who knows, maybe I will too someday.

But how could that amazing and emotional story leave me so empty?
How could the director rush their love through the beginning like that?
How could he not get the jump scene right? (Were was the pain?!?)
How could he not use Bella’s distrust in Edward to make you FEEL the end,
FEEL how ripped and empty she was.
And the clock tower? What the? He had to freaking CONVINCE her for hours, not half a minute.

God, I’m starting to sound like a teenager again.
Better get some sleep over here.

Robbie asks the Burning Question

Keith Hitchman — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 00:00:48 +0000

And if Jesus really died for me
Then Jesus really tried for me

SEXY FASHION: Label Enamora with new Collection Photos at MyFashionShow

myfashionshow — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 22:46:49 +0000

MyFashionShow proudly presents Label Enamora Enamora is a fashion label from Berlin, Germany, specia

4futurereference — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 20:58:13 +0000

feeling strange.

a few days ago i saw the staged reading of a play written by a friend of mine on the dirty war in argentina, a project i knew she had been working on for some time. and it was very good. but i started thinking about the term los desaparecidos, the disappeared – not at all as it was used at the time, those taken by the government to be tortured/killed – but

i’ve always had a morbid fascination with suicide. not necessarily the act as much as the concept, although there have been dark days when the idea of it has stepped out of the theoretical. but what has always stopped me in that blackness is the simple fact of the mess, physical and emotional, that doing so would leave behind.

much better to disappear, neat and complete, like a stray hair removed with tweezers. a sting and then gone.

an idea for a sci-fi novel, perhaps – the reverse of ‘eternal sunshine’ in which you can make the entirety of the world forget about you, and then you can do what you like without repercussion – start over or end. making the step so easy to take.

and so sitting there in the theater, friends and closer on both sides of me, i thought about this, about how when you walk on air you leave no footprints behind.

i am going to be working on part one of ‘the cider house rules’ for the book-it, and a lot of the work that i am going to be doing on it is looking into the history of abortion. which is not an easy thing. i am pro-choice, certainly, in theory at least – but it is difficult to read even in the most clinical terms a description of how abortion is carried out, knowing that even wrapped up in the technical term of ‘fetus’ or ‘embryo’ is something… i hesitate to use the word ‘alive’ because legally that is the crux of the debate; not independently alive, but still the product of life, the process of it.

which when it comes to other people really means nothing at all, because for them it is not my choice to make. hence the argument of ‘pro-choice’ – it’s never an easy choice to make, but it is one that ought to be made by the parties involved and not anyone else. but i don’t think it’s one that i could make and live with myself afterwards. not morally, exactly – ‘moral’ for me is a word that has very little real use because it indicates an idea that is outside of actuality and situation – i just couldn’t do it is all.

anyway, to tie these ideas together, i just this morning began reading ‘choice’ – an anthology of true stories about abortion, adoption, single-parenthood, birth control, etc. and i realized reading this that if this happened to me now – if god forbid i should become pregnant – the idea of sudden and complete escape what instinctively the first to come into my mind. and that it wasn’t just the idea of pregnancy that brought this up, but the idea of being hurt, or being left – complete removal of self from the situation, either by starting over or ending, was the first reaction, faster than thought.

and that’s probably not a good thing.

Jeg lever!

mrati — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 12:58:22 +0000

Hadde fremføring på skolen i dag. Var kjempenervøs, som vanlig. “Nå dør jeg”-nervøs. Men jeg overlevde, og synes egentlig det gikk veldig greit, selv om jeg måtte stoppe opp for å hive etter pusten flere ganger. Det kommer seg for hver gang. Hadde satt meg mål om å ikke hoppe over store deler av teksten, som jeg har en tendens til å gjøre når jeg blir nervøs, og det klarte jeg, hurra for meg.

I kveld blir det studentquiz på Oskars, det blir gøy. Satser på å vinne hele greia – igjen.

I morgen blir det hjemmehelg hos mor. Skal jobbe på søndag, men på lørdag skal jeg og tre fra klassen på Møbelringcup. HEIA NORGE!

Er forresten kjempehekta på Bodies av Robbie Williams, refrenget er så fengende.

Synes egentlig musikkvideoen er litt usaklig, men jeg kunne tenkt meg å kjørt sånn motorcross i ørkenen, det ser himla artig ut.

Robbie Williams - Reality Killed the Video Star (2009)

frecuencia440 — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 22:37:51 +0000

Tracks recomendados: Morning Sun, Do you mind?, Deceptacon, Difficult for Weirdos Reality Killed the

So much, so much

Cami — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 21:47:16 +0000

Queer wing-ed

Angela Simione, untitled (sisters 6)

It hurts me.

Retro Record Cover Art

AGP — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 16:36:47 +0000

Christian Marclay, a DJ, artist and composer from New York, uses old record covers to create new art. More after the jump!

[via]