jillsimagination.com

This is a test

Jill — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 18:26:35 +0000

of ifttt

Eros

Jill — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 16:26:54 +0000

I don’t have a name for it.

The closest I can get is “Eros.” But, given the sexual connotation, that is not correct.

It is an energy. A feeling. A passion.

It is the “Bliss” once spoken of.

It infects, insidiously, with the buds of spring and the warmth of the sun on the skin.

It is in the passionate laughter experienced with a friend and the innuendo shared with a possible lover. It is in the tete-a-tete and in the dance.

It has a vibration that is experienced throughout the physical body.

I can sense it. I can feel it. I can almost smell it. But, alas, I can not adequately describe it.

For those of us most alive when immersed in it, however, it truly is our life-force. And, without it, we die a slow, excruciating, death.

Healing The World With Pleasure

Jill — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 16:23:27 +0000

What if, as Amit Gotswami postulates, consiousness does indeed create matter. It follows, therefore, that it also creates the “human condition.”

And, what if one who is debilitated by that condition is, instead of being limited by it, actually contributing to it simply by being debilitated.

Wouldn’t it make sense, then, for one to enjoy each moment to its fullest knowing that the consciousness behind the pleasure is actually HEALING the world?

Perspective

Jill — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 16:06:20 +0000

Interesting (to me) conversation as I was walking in to the endodontist’s (one of the battery of dentists I see on an all-too-frequent basis) office: I held the door for an elderly woman who thanked me. I held a second door and replied with, “It’s my pleasure.”

She said, “You’re still young.”

“I’m forty-six!” I boasted. “Not THAT young.”

“Well, I’m eighty-four and I’ve got everything wrong with me.”

I smiled and tried to reframe: “You look like you have lots of things ‘right’ to me!”

She would have none of it; “I have diabetes and I’m a cancer survivor.”

“Yes! Survivor!” I kept trying.

She looked at me, trying to teach me a lesson, “Honey, sometimes you just have to face reality.”

Clearly her ‘story’ was her reality. I choose a different one.