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Share your writing monthly. We want to hear about your journey and what moves you to create a stronger more positive existence in your lives. Send us your thoughts, stories, poems, experiences or ideas and we'll include them in our monthly, Inner Light E-news Inspi-RAY-tion section. SUBMIT TODAY (Scroll down for archive articles) WINTER 2007 A Woman of all Ages By Ariella Kristol Forstein It’s hard to imagine that one day I will be an old woman. I respect my elders immensely, and am intrigued by how some live their lives to the fullest of the full. I can easily say that someday, I hope to be a happy, vibrant old lady. I’d like to follow in the footsteps of my *Bubby Ruth, who always delights those around her with her warm heart and elegant charm, who at age 92 is so fragile and small and can no longer remember her thoughts from one word to the next, but who relentlessly smiles at each person she encounters, calls them “darling” and honors them with love while they remain in her presence. But me, 92 years old? I have no fear about becoming someone’s elder, it is just tough to imagine. When I was in 6th grade, I was shy, yet passionate and curious. My 13 year-old thoughts encompassed looking toward the future, wondering what I’d be like 10 years later, but not being able to fathom my future existence as a young woman. Me? A young woman? I remember wanting to jump out of my shy shell in middle school, longing to shout, “I’m here and I’m artistic, listen to my ideas because I have a lot to share with the world!” However, my self-consciousness got the best of me as I went about life with a subtle yet ambitious passion for all things living. And now, at 23, I stand in front of a classroom of 13 year olds, a young woman excited to lead discussions, field questions and evoke emotions that only a teacher with gusto can trigger. I see the students looking at me, at times with wonder. When I look into their eyes, I see a part of myself as a young girl, a part of my past. Do they know I was once their age, a mere 10 years ago? Women 10 years older than me who share common interests must glance at me with a knowledge and wonder only a woman 10 years my senior could obtain. And as my Bubby gazes at me, she must reminisce about her youthful escapades in love and life. After all, she had many. The thing that gets me about all this is that I understand it all now. I comprehend that I’m growing. I can’t ever go back to the innocent, free child I once was, nor can I go back to the era of “finding myself” I experienced in college. I have one life on this earth, and with this life I get to experience many ages. I am aware that each year is special and unique. As my body and mind continuously mature, I am given the opportunity to experience life with different feelings and viewpoints. When my body and mind begin to deteriorate, I will still have the grand option of living life to the fullest, as I plan on doing. When I look into the eyes of women before me, women my age and envision the eyes of women who have yet to be born, I can’t help but feel like we are connected, that we are all one. I know the legacy I leave will one day mesh with those who lived during my time on earth. I cherish the knowledge that I’m growing, that each age I become is special and that if I look into another woman’s eyes, I’ll endure a whole new world, which may just remind me of my own. *Bubbie = grandmother in Yiddish JULY 2006 solitudeinvisible By Vita In my solitude, I ask for a healing of the heart I know something that isn’t Truth has to die But I’m afraid that if I let it go I will be left with nothing Nothing at all No existence will prevail I will be forgotten Forever That is so hard to bear But then, I must assume That I exist somewhere. But where? If I were to find out the places where my soul resides that might blow my whole theory of life out of whack Too fearful to let it go for what I don’t know But if I could let it go perhaps I could find something else more like myself I was trying to survive but why would I want to survive? Survive what? What am so I afraid of losing that I can’t afford losing? My soul? I don’t think so That rhymes more with my ego. Because if I lose my ego I cannot be anything And I’m so afraid to be nothing But if I could be nothing perhaps I could be everything Maybe that’s what I am really afraid of being everything Because if I was everything I will also be nothing No one would know who I am I would be invisible like God. That’s why it’s so hard to believe in God Because God is invisible What a true dilemma to consider that maybe we are God Who could have the idea of such an absurd thing but the Great Power Itself The all seeing flowers of our souls The only thought behind our very thoughts That we might be that powerful makes our skin crawl We will fight it till the day we die And when we die, if we find out that we’re eternal just like God then we will know that we’ve been had by our mind and that this whole thing was a joke Just imagine, discovering that on our passing day? What a terrible blow to our soul So before the curtain falls why not going for it all! VITA artist, author, poet & visionary JUNE 2006 Like Mother, Like Daughter by Sierra J. Sullivan I love my mother. She was an amazing soul who taught my sisters and I many wonderful things about life, character, beauty and womanhood. She worked really hard to raise four young girls to be smart, strong and successful women and she did an excellent job- we’re living proof. ☺ Although our mother is no longer with us, physically, we still hold a piece of her spirit within our own. For better or for worse, this energy can create patterns of thoughts about who we are and how we view ourselves. My mother taught me many positive qualities along the way. But she, too, was human and had her own personal hang-ups about her body and the way she was perceived in the world. Like many women, she had weight issues and was persistently trying one fad diet after another. She constantly made comments about her weight. She never felt comfortable leaving the house without make-up and she wore padded bras daily to fill out her chest. I never knew to what extent this behavior affected me until years later. I’ve always had small breasts, but never really considered it an issue until my mother started buying me padded bras and talking about how she would help me get a boob job one day. I know that she was only trying to be helpful and didn’t want her daughter to have the same body issues that she dealt with- but in doing so, her thoughts on this issue created a whole ripple effect on my life and my own body image. Now that I am older and wiser, I understand this pattern in my life, and I am making a big effort to change it. I don’t want to be a women trapped into fitting some mold dictated by society. I am aware of the daily energy that I spend wishing I looked different, trying to cover up ”problem areas”, or thinking about a fad diet to fix what really cannot be fixed externally. In the eyes of society, yes, my mother had a weight problem. She was never a thin woman. But, the truth is, she was one of the most fabulous women I ever knew. She had so much light within her soul that she could light up any room that she walked into. People gravitated to her and felt good just being around her and her endless energy. She had the most amazing smile and her eyes were so beautifully big, and brown. She had class, sass and a whole lot of what she called, “Oh la la”! This is what the world remembers her for, not how much she weighed or how big her breasts were. One of the last memories I have of my mother had such a profound effect on me that I began to realize how silly our perceptions of our physical bodies actually are. Before her death, my sisters and I made a video collage of about 100 or so photos of her life, set to music. Her battle with liver cancer was taking its toll and death was inevitable. We planned on using the video for her funeral. The one positive thing about knowing a loved one is going to die is that you get to plan certain things together and share moments like this. We finished the montage months before she passed away and all sat down to view it one day. My whole family sat in the living room watching the video through teary eyes, feeling so connected to one another, to our past and to our memories- which were all we would have of our mother once she left. I can only imagine what my mother was seeing and feeling as she watched that video- faced with her own impending death and watching her life literally flash before her eyes. What she said in that moment was incredible. She started to cry and she turned to us and exclaimed, “I was never fat, girls!! I was never fat!” Here was a woman, who struggled her whole life trying to look a certain way, hating her body and obsessing to fix it. It literally took until her dying days to finally understand that it didn’t matter. We are more than a body and life is too short to waste our precious time worrying about it. Admittedly, I still have issues with my body and I understand that my mother passed on both positive and negative qualities for me to work through. I understand myself more and more as I move closer to self-acceptance and I am thankful to be able to carry on where she left off. I know that someday, when I have children, this awareness will be passed on to them and will help to bestow a better sense of self into their lives. It’s time to release the negative thought patterns that keep us trapped. Let’s open our hearts to freedom!! An Exercise in Self-Esteem... What did your Mother pass on to you? CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD PDF