It is time to create and to light up. Light up and the creativity pours out of its own accord. I don’t sit down to be creative, I just fall in love with life in this moment and my heart starts to sing.
Women need to be in love: with themselves, with a man, with a child, with a project, with a job, with their country, with the planet, and – most important – with life itself. Women in love are closer to enlightenment. For angels and lovers, everything sparkles. ~ Marianne Williamson, A Woman’s Worth.
I am in love with beautiful me, with life, with the butterflies, with this time and place, with the sunshine, with my own heart’s song. So in love with it. My own Joy feels like heaven to touch. It’s the edge of almost unbearable pleasure, tasting my own joy like electric nectar inside and holding it in my body. This abundant bliss fountain in my body.It is the source of everything else.
I do recognise the privelege of this moment. The privelege of feeling this. It is not a common thing, although it ought to be. Our own joy is freely available to us in every moment of life. Revelling in our own existence like wriggly cats on a sunny patio, is an option in every single moment. Yet I do recognise, it is a rare privelege.
What keeps us from this Joy? Put it down right now, and play in the sunshine of your own magnificence like a butterfly, just for a change. Why not?
I do recognise, so much of what I am making visible here is taboo. The sweetest taboo. Delighting in my own self.
When the immense drugged universe explodes in a cascade of unendurable colour. And leaves us gasping naked. This is no more than the ecstasy of chaos. Hold fast with both hands to that royal love. Which alone, as we know certainly, restores fragmentation into true being. ~ Robert Graves, Ecstasy of Chaos