Stories, Stories--Everything's a Story

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I am now also writing and posting all my articles on X in support of Free Speech. Above is the link to this latest:

"Stories, Stories--Everything's a Story"

I started a community on X called Benevolent Revolution in order to invite others who've awakened to the more that we each and all are to share their own stories of what it was like to transition out of the old hypnosis and into the realization of the more true version of you. Currently, I'm its only member, but, hey, you've gotta start somewhere, right?

All the best,

The Benevolent Rebel

@binekpenny

 Stories, Stories—Everything's a Story

It was a much-loved 50-degree day in March in Minot, ND, and I was on the last leg of my walk home from my laps around the soccer park. I felt an extra spring in my step as I walked past our friends' and neighbors' homes. Memories circulated through my mind of a fun interaction that day with a lady friend who used to walk with me but couldn't in the past couple of years because of foot issues. She's one of those people who always brings a smile to me--she's just got that certain attitude about life that even if things are difficult, she finds the humor within to get herself through them. She brings candies for the staff to her doctor's appointments. She's simply a lovely, lovely being--always there to help out a neighbor, a loved one, a friend, even a stranger in need. And best of all--to have a hug and a laugh with.

Then there are some other beloved friends--a couple of cashiers, a guy who bags my groceries, and the samples lady who now works in the meat department at my grocery store. We have wonderful chats about life in general--perspectives on things, pets, what plans we have for the day or weekend, trips, favorite foods, coffees, recipes, how we plan to spend holidays. When spring comes, one of the cashiers works at the local greenhouse, and our chats turn into gardening ideas. I can get my groceries at other places way cheaper than there, but I choose to buy them from this store because of these people.

Unfortunately, it's this type of person who seldom makes the headlines of our news, and that's a sad commentary on what the majority of humans find attention-worthy. You see, I've found that the more attention I give to anything--doesn't matter if I deem it good or bad--I get more of it.

There are these amazing human angels all around us, quietly doing such grand work while seeming to go about fairly routine, even mundane, daily lives, and pretty much unaware of how amazing they truly are--what a gift they are to me in simply being. Unaware that their very consciousness makes the worlds of the lives they touch an even more wondrously beautiful and fun place.

As I made my way home, I had the profound realization that all of life here on Earth is a collection of stories. What happens in the stories doesn't really matter in the end because the details and pain are all distilled out--I've recognized that I don't remember the sensual feeling of the physical pains I experienced. Thankfully, I just remember the stories and only the gems of compassionate wisdom gained from them. This wisdom is acquired through living our lives out within our own creations as a human being. It's all that the soul--that the "I am" divine and eternal facet of us--cares about and retains.

So, we're all just creating and living out stories....

I LOVE stories! My favorite memories of growing up are sitting in my brothers' bedroom and hearing the tales they and their friends shared. Of course, they got even more exaggerated as the years went by, and those stories eventually became family memories and legends shared in the living room on holidays or get-togethers of some sort.

My brothers have such wonderful story-telling capabilities. I especially love the stories where they have no problem compromising their image if it can be turned into a good laugh.

For instance: I have a nephew named Heath who acquired the nickname, Beef, and he preferred that name when he was little because he connected it with being tough like roast beef. Oh, do I love that kid--and now he's all grown up with kids of his own, yet he let me know not so long ago, "Pen, those little boys you remember are still right here." This as he pointed to his chest.

Anyway, I digress. We were all at the graduation of my oldest nephew, milling around, a few of us hanging out on the stairs, when my brother, Uncle Tim says to Heath, "I hear you like to be called Beef." Then Tim gets this macho swagger of a stance, head-nodding, chin-in-the-air cool attitude, and sniffs with his lower lip out a bit more than the upper, "Ye-ep! They call me chicken." There he stands, proud as a peacock.

Oh, the roars of laughter as we sat around the kitchen table when friends and neighbors, old and new, and extended family members dropped in for a visit. I never wanted to go to bed when we had guests at night for fear of missing out on something fun.

And the man I partnered with--his sense of humor is one of the main things that attracted me to him and continues to do so. Innuendo is a favorite pastime of ours. Plus, we've been together long enough that we think the same and often find ourselves having the same thought out of the blue at the same time. That's always good for a shared chuckle.

The importance of open communication....

I've realized communication is key in any relationship story, and my husband and I have definitely improved in that area. I've recognized how vulnerable I feel when stating and standing in my own truth, but also now see and empathetically feel that in him and others, too. None of us is really out to hurt one another. We've just got a guard put up because of feeling so naked and not wanting to be rejected or hurt. 

The gift of having been in a marriage is that I learned to honor each of us as sovereign beings and to not only recognize, but also celebrate the different beauty of our individual paths. I learned to quit trying to guide and fix what I perceived as something he was doing wrong, and to embrace that his life was his own gift to live out. We can share tools and things we've realized for ourselves, but we don't try to force these things upon the other. It's a whole lot less hassle and burden and worry. And if I can do that with someone I'm close to, then it's easier to do with anyone else.

There is a freeing and flowing sense of being when I make it a point to drop my armor, to shut off my own thoughts about how right I think I am and quit trying to dominate our conversations; and instead, actually listen to what he has to say. When I can do that, I've come to realize we understand and often agree with one another more than I gave us credit for. He just has a different way of expressing the same ideas based on his own unique experiences. In short, we have less arguments and more fun times together.

I'm ready to write new kinds of stories....

I often dream of, I've actually even started writing, my own novel. I love music so I can feel it eventually evolving into a musical. But while I desire to make it relatable with other humans, I have no interest in writing the same old, same old story that's been told over and over ad nauseum with humans having issues with diseases, drugs, sex, alcohol or any other abuses or relationship dramas. Have you noticed that all the series written for TV have plots similar to the headlines in the news? You can tell what general year one was written by what stories were happening in so-called real life.

Then I watch people around me make those plot lines their own truth because they've accepted it as "this is just the way life is." And, frankly, I don't relate to people with addictions. Contrary to how my peers in the 1970s and 80s are portrayed, I didn't do drugs of any kind. None of it appealed to me. While I like a glass of wine or beer or maybe even a bit of whiskey once in a while, I don't feel the desire to drink it every night like I'm seeing plastered all over the shows and on t-shirts. It's not the way I grew up, nor is it a routine I care to make my own. Watching the use of substances to cope, escape, or get a buzz on to party more heartily, or seeing someone, with an obvious agenda, manipulating others is not entertaining for me. "Reality" TV is a waste of my time.

If you like that, that's just fine--please enjoy yourself. It's your life to do with as suits you. I'm just saying out loud what appeals to me, and that what's seen on TV or in the movies is not necessarily a true representation of everyone in society--possibly not even most people. But some often claim that as their own narrative.

I'm looking for something more--something magical and new. Something where there may be some dark night tunnels of the soul, some mystery or puzzle to solve, but it has great humor sprinkled in with the tears and fears and colorful characters--and always has a light at the end. I love uplifting sagas--not that commentary on the state of the world crap someone's deemed classic just because it leaves one feeling depressed and hopeless about the world we live in. I have to ask--what was the purpose in writing something like that? To me, that's not art--not really. It's someone succumbing to the whole victimhood identity and trying to bring the rest of the world down with them. It's a manipulative power-play--an energy sucker.

Ultimately, I perceive us ALL as divine and loving beings, regardless of the roles we act out here in our Earthly plays.

I like happy endings--a resolution that's a win-win, even for those who played the bad guy or bad lady parts. Most of the stories today either kill them off or put them away. They seldom show the villain awakening and sincerely having a change of heart and opening up to becoming the more that I've realized we all are. What if they were just volunteering to act out that badass role out of love for us, as fellow divine beings pretending to be just little humans? So that through all these stories, we get to discover all there is to learn about oneself and how our own energy fields serve each of us?

My best moments have been when someone approaches me and tells me that my presence brings a sense of ease or grace or joy to their own life. They've noticed me.... and....they took the time to tell me so....

I know many wonderful people who seek to live lives of cooperating peacefully with their fellow humans, and they are the ones who look for things we all have in common--not that which separates us even further. They aren't out to stoke the fires that keep everyone divided. This type of attitude is what will keep us from creating the very real possibly of another civil war in our beloved homeland--in our beloved world at large. Our greater community tales become the types of stories we nurture in our personal lives. 

Also, I've lived in the Upper Midwest of the United States of America for most of my life so really the only religions I've had much experience with are the many versions of the Christian faith. Around the time of the millennium, I read a book titled "The Urantia Book." It gave an overview on the origins of the various religions, and I could see that at the core of each there was a message that rang true with me. I don't practice any religion--I'm all about conscious awareness--but I appreciate all of them as being an important stepping-stone to the more that I know we all are.

I have lived a lifetime or two as a Bible-thumping Holy roller, who preached Hell and damnation for sinning humans who didn't come around to her way of thinking.... So, this isn't meant to provoke any arguments.

People are reflections of the type of god they worship, and if their god is a judgmental one--oofta!--they are often the most judgmental, condemning, and Un Christ-like people to associate with. I hear all kinds of stories of how undeserving someone is if the Holy Roller I'm talking with doesn't like that person. 

What pisses me off is that this preacher-type personality is so deep into her hypnosis that she insists on trying to proselytize me into taking on her own stories of trying-to-stay-out-of-Hell terror. I'm perceived as an unworthy, born in sin, heathen she's trying to get whipped into shape, so I don't end up burning eternally. The preaching at me gets old quickly. These types are not fun to be with. Nor are they in any way uplifting....

And.... then I have to step outside of myself and just laugh at the scene we're acting out together. I realize them being just the way they are has given me this insight into myself:

I'm more apt to actively listen to a story than I am to a lecture on how to be, what to think, how to feel.... 

And.... It's a waste of my own breath and our time to try to convince anyone else that they should be according to what I deem is worthy and right.

Part of me grieves at not having been able to openly share with the glass-half-empty lecturer in a more light-hearted manner--like we missed out on another grand opportunity for something more satisfying--for myself, for both of us.... but, unless they're willing to open up, we'll just disconnect for now....

It's your story--have at it. I no longer feel the need or desire to try to convince, fix, or change you to my idea of what's right. I'm done with the whole dinkin' around in stuff that isn't my business thing.

I know I unconditionally love these preachy individuals anyway, even though I may not like them in the roles they are currently playing out for me. I accept them where and as they are, always wishing them the best in life--and that's reassuring to know I feel that way--that I'm not putting the responsibility on some god-like entity outside of me to love them. I choose to love them, no matter what. Just as I've come to love myself, no matter what. After all, we're all just playing out stories to our hearts' content.... and we can come and go from each other's plots as we see fit.

I envision a different story, where we are thanking--with sincerity--the people whose lives touch our own, like those I mentioned at the beginning....

It was on that walk yesterday--by the way, I meet the most wonderful people, pets and wild animals and birds on my walks--that I realized I've been writing, casting, acting, directing and experiencing my own created stories my entire life--all of them starting from within. Not only do we plot, write, and create a story--we also immerse into them in a gritty, sensual way, and we can determine where the story goes while we're living them. And--our attitude (grudge or gratitude) has everything to do with what we draw to ourselves. What an amazing gift....

I can choose to actively participate in the development of my life story. Pick the elements that resonate and appeal to me, or I can sit in the rollercoaster car and pretend to play the victim who just has to endure, who has to cope with whatever some entity or other person throws my way.

We don't have a destiny written in stone here--we have FREE CHOICE even if we came here with a purpose in mind, made on the other side of the veil, about what we hope to experience in this particular lifetime. We can make alterations to it while we're living it out. We don't have to maintain an already-established identity--especially if it no longer serves us and our movement into being the something more than the little human we once thought was all we were. Even the bad guys can become good.

We can choose to change.... and that often starts by opening to changing your perspective--opening up to seeing things from different angles, through different lenses--and not being so damned determined to be right, no matter what the cost....

The beauty is, as a human, we can plot and plan our stories down to the tiniest detail, but there is always going to probably be some aspect of ourselves that we are unaware of that can throw in a surprising twist--and I love those kinds of stories....

and.... here I am, getting to be in it, to participate in its creation along with my divine facet, and to sensually experience it from start to finish, however and if, I choose....

All the best, my beloved Humanity, as you create and live out your own stories, and thank you for being a part, in all ways, of mine....

The Benevolent Rebel

I have created a community on X called "Benevolent Revolution," 

I choose to create a safe and sacred space that nurtures open communication among us human beings--a space that seeks to enhance our awareness of the things we have in common. A place that unites us, no matter who we are or where we live.

I invite you to share your stories here of awakening into the more that you are. what it's like, any situations that led to an Ah-Ha! of personal realization. Sharing our stories helps all of us to feel seen, heard, supported and encouraged.... and to laugh....

Let's dwell in hope as we escort our beloved world into a new and broader spectrum of experiences now available to all of us as more conscious beings growing into deeper understandings of who we each and all are....and celebrating the joy and all the wisdom gained from playing together within our own sovereign creations!

I So look forward to reading and hearing all your stories!

You Get Old, Lose Your Mind, Fall Apart, and then You Die....Or Do You???

This big ah-ha of a realization was brought to me compliments of a little elderly lady with dementia and a peeing cat.

Believing you're a Little, Just-Trying-to-Survive Human at the whim of a big, bad world....and the words,"I don't want to be a burden."

"I don't want to be a burden," says the nice little elderly lady--as though she has no choice in the matter. She repeats that phrase over and over like a mantra whenever she's asked if she likes where she's living or if she wants to change it.  

Her every choice is pretty much given over voluntarily by her to someone else when it comes to taking responsibility for her own well-being. She's checked out from this reality. She has to be reminded to bathe, and often one has to insist on it and make sure she actually does it. She's frequently back reliving her childhood and acting like the kid she once was. It's especially noticeable when she's asked to do dishes or some chore she'd rather not perform. Dishes get banged around, or she runs and hides in her room when groceries need to be brought in. 

She truly is a lovely lady with a fun sense of humor when she's present in her body. And she's pretty easy to please and pleasant most of the time, but like all of us humans, she has her moments when she's not much fun to be around. The naughties take over for a bit. Then there is the sentiment that, well, she's lived to get this old so she's allowed to get away with crap that you wouldn't put up with from someone younger. But when you're the one dealing with the behavior, it's a whole different story and feeling, and that idea just ends up being a guilt-trip no one needs to take. Especially when you're doing your best to do right by a loved one. You may be feeling angry--and rightly, understandably so.

She may insist she doesn't want to be a burden, and being the polite and loving caretakers she has around her, everyone rushes in to reassure her she's not being a burden. But the truth is, she is a burden for whoever has taken it upon themselves to take care of her....

She is so dependent upon someone else that you can't leave her sight. It's hard to get away for some much-needed time apart from anyone else in order to keep one's own energies free and flowing. We all need that--time to clear our own stuff out and free ourselves of having to think about the needs of someone else.

I watched a rerun of an episode of The Golden Girls and observed one of the characters, a senior woman living in a homeless shelter, lamenting about not having a choice and just bearing with whatever life brought her. Life getting old was just a series of disappointments, according to her take on it. There was no gratitude emoted from her--just poor, pitiful me victimhood from a nice-sounding lady....and....I realized it was a commonly held belief that really no longer resonated with me. 

I saw a woman playing out a role of CHOOSING to pretend she was a powerless little human at the whim of some obscure puppet master called Life. She didn't perceive or value her own life as a gift....and so, she just created for herself more and more trauma and pain and loss.

BE your own solution, Pen....instead of Life's victim....

I choose to not be a burden--I am not going to do that to my loved ones....and I am fully committed to that choice. 

I'm living my best life and gratefully taking care of this human life--The Experiencer--the gift to my soul that I am....

And when I'm done here, I'm walking out--no drama or trauma--just maybe a going away celebration to thank all my loved ones before I head off into other realms of exploration....

Trying to get someone else to accept my own ideas of what is right, playing the victim of someone else's choice--what a vicious cycle. Yet, it's so deeply programmed within every single human, down to our very cells--that this is just the way life is--that most of the time we're unaware we're letting it run our own lives.

No amount of do-gooding on my part can change the story of someone who is choosing to play victim to anyone or anything. It won't work. You can't heal someone intent on staying in an imbalanced form--whether it's a disease or a relationship or a state of being. And no matter how dire the circumstances, a CREATOR CHOICE is actually being made by the individual experiencing it, though they are most likely completely unaware of it. So, even not wanting to be a burden is actually a choice being made--wanting--being the key word.

Wanting and Choosing are two very different words. Feel into each one:

Wanting states that it isn't an experience you're currently having. It may be a potential out there, but it's elusive--you can't quite get it into full manifestation. It can even go so far as being something you can never attain. You're left wanting....you're left "in limbo." Just hanging out, nowhere to go....and so you don't. "I'm in limbo." is another statement often made by our dementia lady, as she waits for someone to tell her where she's going to live. She's been in the same place over 18 months, but to her, it's only been a week or two.

"I want...." also has a victimy whine to it--a defeatist attitude, if you will.

But choosing--now, that's a master's word. That's an I'm taking a conscious action word. It's a potential right here at hand, and I'm picking it and doing it. I am creating the life I choose to live--I'm done playing the role of being its victim.

That is how the Survival of the Fittest hypnosis is--you quack like a duck because you believe you're a duck. And that becomes the status quo of your life, where nothing much changes, until it's your time to NATURALLY awaken to the truth of who you really are. Then you begin to question all those once-accepted suggestions about how life is. That passionate knowingness deep within you springs to life, certain and singing, "I am so much more....I JUST KNOW IT!"

A slow grin starts to form on your lips as you imagine and contemplate new possibilities. And then you start literally waking up and living each new day according to that magnificent realization....I am the source, center, and creator of all my experiences--what a gift! What do I choose to experience today?

An itty-bitty little kitty taught me an important lesson on how to make a clear--and committed--choice based purely in love of all parties involved...

Who would have thought that the adoption of a 9-month old kitten could have created so much drama and trauma, and yet hold such a pearl of wisdom at its core?

Back in July, 2011, all I thought was that my husband had brought home a cat for me to take care of without consulting me first. He truly thought he was surprising me with a gift. 

I was hypnotically playing the role I CREATED of  "Victim of Husband Who Doesn't Listen to Her."

We already had two cats who got along famously--one of them was older, and I was afraid of him feeling like he was being replaced. Yeah, I know I projected my own feelings on my pet, but that's pretty much what humans do. I also was afraid there wasn't enough of me to go around to properly spend the time and attention with each cat as needed. It was actually a recurring nightmare with me. We'd had neighbors who had adopted three cats at different times and none of them got along. I just didn't want that upset in our home.

I was determined he would have to find some other home for her. I wasn't going to get attached. But when I'd go into the mud room where we had her separated from the other cats in order to get everyone used to one another, I'd sit on the toilet seat to visit with her, and this darling little thing would crawl up onto my lap and sweet-talk to me and gaze at me with such adoring eyes that my heart melted. She was mine--here to be with me, no matter the circumstances surrounding how she got here. Plus, she adored our eldest cat, Max, and on my three-cat escort down to the kitchen each morning she couldn't help herself--she'd throw her front paws around his neck as they walked. It was so cute and funny. Max wasn't so sure about this new kid, but he tolerated her.

And then...was that pee on her little pink princess cushion her previous owners had sent along with her? 

Indeed, it was....and for seven years I tried everything that occurred for me to try--from  burning sage to clear the energies in our house (she actually followed my brother from room to room as he burned the sage) to calming odor-emitting plug-ins, different litters, punishment by putting her outside for pottying where she shouldn't. She acted guilty and ashamed, but the story never changed. I tried getting mad at her, and then not getting mad at her. We'd get up each morning searching the house for pee spots, and I'd feel so embarrassed when someone would visit and I'd discover a spot and a smell that we'd missed. You know, you get desensitized after being in it for so long. I gave up trying to have rugs in the entryway, kitchen, or bathrooms--they were all an invitation for her to have a nice little wee on something that was easy on her declawed front paws. 

We didn't declaw her--her previous owners did that (most likely not knowing what they were actually doing to her)....and....I realized that is probably what brought on the peeing behavior because she acts out a poor little kitty show by limping out of the litter box room, especially when she doesn't have to go. The limp magically disappears when she hits the wool runner. A friend of mine told me about getting her Himalayan (same breed as our Bella) declawed like she had done with previous other cats without issue--but with that particular cat it changed its personality.

The limp has a legitimate basis for Bella because I see her favor it on cold services, but she also knows how to fake it in a bid to get sympathy. It's pretty cute to watch her act the part--and it was nothing I encouraged. She just knows how to work it.

I don't go in for declawing. I think it's inhumane--like removing fingernails from a human. You don't realize how much you use your nails until they're out of commission for some reason. Granted, our furniture looks like cats live here, but we're also finding that they have a tendency to leave microfiber alone and that's definitely influencing our next choice in furniture.

I made a choice to quit playing being the victim who wasn't listened to by whomever my finger was pointing at. Instead, I opened myself up to taking charge of my own life and experiencing something new.... 

Finally, January 2018 rolled around, and in the midst of Kel and I having yet another row over this frustratingly cute peeing machine, we both came to a clear realization and a mutual commitment that changed everything. 

He threatened to give her away for the umpteenth time when he saw how frustrated I was with her--with the whole situation. He felt bad and responsible and was just basically reacting from that emotional place. 

But this time I said and felt a clear, "NO!" An absolute ah-ha! came to me and solidified--giving her away was not an option I wanted to ever take. In that moment, I realized that she was family. She was our version of a child, and I said, "You don't give your bed-wetting child--someone you love unconditionally--away. You look for a way you can BOTH WIN! You do whatever it takes."

That perspective shifted everything....

This time, out of love for our cat and for ourselves, WE BOTH made the COMMITMENT to create a better life for ALL of us--and more importantly, we acted on that choice. 

We put that choice into actual, practical motion....

We decided to re-train her--using positive reinforcement and repetition. We united and made it our mission to make it work out. We brought a litter box up from the basement and put it in the mudroom along with a dish of cat food topped with a treat when she went in there. We put her in there morning, noon, night and middle of the night, and had her stay in there for five minutes at a time or until she went potty....and then we praised the daylights out of her. We all won when she went potty in the box.

Gradually, a new story emerged and she became a whole new kitty. She walks around with her tail up instead of slinking away and hiding. She hangs out with us throughout the day. She and Tiff love sharing DQ chicken strips with us. She knows that "picnic" means she gets to eat her wet chow outside when it's nice or inside by the furnace vent when it's cold. She now interacts and plays with Kelly, whereas, before, she was more exclusively my cat and was a bit wary around men. She waits for him to crawl into bed so she can have her special time with him, and she sleeps on him most of the night because I move around too much. She's such a fun little chatter-box--mewing at me sweetly when I clear a tickle in my throat. She knows to check the mud room for a treat which I often sneak in in order to get ahead of things. She'll saunter out licking her chops and I'll know I've been had. She'll go potty even if there aren't treats--it's become a bit of our time together. Our other cats like having company and compliments, too, while using the facilities.

She was hanging out by the storm door one day when our postman dropped off a package and he turned to tell me as he headed back to his truck, "Your cat is beautiful!" Needless to say, he's my favorite mail carrier.  

This past year I found Dr. Elsey's Cat Attract Litter for cats that have an aversion to using the litter box. By the way, that's the number one reason cats are given away. It has an earthy herbal scent similar to that found in the ground outside--and all our cats love it and use it. Bella even covers her stuff up now, something she seldom ever did before. The limp isn't appearing as often either.

Learning the importance of practicing loving gratitude for myself....

Leading up to the Apocalypse back on March 22, 2023, I've realized that I had committed to the choice of taking care of myself. I walk to flow energies and I stretch every morning now with a sensual joy of being in a body that I enjoy being in instead of hauling around in shame. When I stretch, it's not about over-doing it or simply going through the motions of an exercise. I'm feeling into myself and appreciating the sensations of muscles responding to my attention. I'm enjoying this new awareness and improving flexibility. 

FYI: It's just occurred to me while having a conversation with a friend about doing exercises that all the stretching I do on a consistent, daily basis--I do it all standing up! When my back was at its worst, the last thing I wanted to do was to get down on the floor to do exercises--it was too painful getting up and down from the floor. 

I found a simple Japanese towel exercise (also done standing up and is over with in 2 minutes) that I added in a few months back that's simple and easier to do than sit-ups--and has been way more effective in toning my adductor (abdominal) muscles. It places the organs back down in the pelvis--you get a rounded tummy from those muscles going lax, and your organs start floating upwards, pressing on your lungs and heart. I got my waistline back--and with ease by doing that exercise combined with glide-walking as taught by Esther Gokhale (Google "Primal Posture" and stretch-sitting--she has my utmost gratitude). I now understand core strengthening--I can feel it, and I no longer injure my back or limbs when shoveling or gardening, and my walks are once again a sensual joy of being in a body.

I cut down on the baking and the sweets and chips intake. I used to bake and not care to eat it, and I'm finally experiencing that once again. I also no longer crave potato chips like I used to. It's a joy to bake and share really tasty creations with others, but I no longer want to eat a whole batch of something--a taste is often enough. Sugar is not totally eliminated--we still have cappuccinos in the morning, but we left off the practice of afternoon coffee and snacks, and instead have supper earlier. We eat an apple and a clementine daily, and I make homemade Dutch oven bread which we toast and have for breakfast, along with homemade jam. I crave salads and fresh vegetables again. I don't follow any diet--I enjoy meat and beans and potatoes, too, as well as grains. I follow my intuition and just mix it up as I see fit.

I never used to eat as often or as much as I have in the past several years--I dived into mass consciousness and started taking on issues that weren't mine--and I put on weight in the process. It's finally coming off.

We even played a game of kickball with our friends about a month ago. Yes, I felt muscles I didn't know I had afterwards, but considering I've been here acting out Life in this vessel for 60 years, it wasn't too bad--and I look forward to doing it again. That and other fun physical activities and games that I haven't done since my back started releasing its old stories when I awakened.

I've gained a significant understanding now in how to create a life I choose to experience by practically acting on it. Acting on it gives it that little extra oomph needed to get my energies aligned--because I'm letting them know I'm committed to a choice, to a direction. I'm no longer wishy-washy and playing at being the victim of my own world, which in truth is, my own creation.

Our beloved Bella is currently curled up on my lap, helping me write her story about her amazing contribution to my understanding on how to make a clear, committed, creative choice....CREATORSHIP 101....The greatest realizations often come in the smallest, simplest moments and packages....and I am so grateful for this one! She's one of the greatest gifts and loves of my life....

I'm also feeling deeply grateful for the contributions from a fellow divine being who's currently playing out the role of little old, helpless lady having memory issues--all for me, just so I could get really clear and honest about some things....and make some different choices for myself....