Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.

A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.

Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who believes she is good.

A woman who trusts and respects herself.

Who listens to her needs and desires, and meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present.

A woman who has walked through her past.

Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.

A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.

Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and to her wisest voice.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.

A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.

Who designs her own spirituality and allows it to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.

A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.

Who celebrates her body and its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who honors the face of the Goddess in her own changing face.

A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.

Who refuses to use precious energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.

A woman who sits in circles of women.

Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman.

Patricia Lynn Reilly, M. Div. Copyright: 1995
from: Imagine a Woman in Love with Herself (Conari, 1999) Summer Blessings, Patricia Lynn Reilly, M. Div. Founder of Open Window Creations Author of: A God Who Looks Like Me (Ballantine, 1995) Be Full of Yourself! (Open Window Creations, 1998) Imagine a Woman in Love with Herself (Conari, 1999) I Promise Myself (Conari, 2000) Words Made Flesh (OWC, 2004)

Phenomenal Woman

by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies,
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size

But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.

I say it's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.

I say it's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.

I say it's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.

I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

My Daily Prayer

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everyone's affairs. Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and the love of rehearsing them is growing sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others' pains, but help me endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memory of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I can be wrong.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so hard to live with - but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.

(17th century Nun's Prayer)


President Barack Obama

His Holiness Dalai Lama XIV

Jimmy Carter

Maya Angelou


Joan Baez


Tom Waits



Live, Learn and Tell

by K.S. Bhargava

At age 16, I learned that mothers always know best, and sometimes fathers know best, too.

At age 20, I learned that crime doesn't pay, even if it is done well.

At age 25, I learned that a new baby keeps the mother from from having an eight-hour day, and keeps the father from having an eight-hour night.

At age 30, I learned that strength is the charm of a man, and that charm is the strength of a woman.

At age 35, I learned that the future is not what you inherit, but what you create.

At age 40, I learned that the secret of happy living is not do what you like, but to like what you do.

At age 45, I learned that life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you respond to it.

At age 50, I learned that a dog is man's best friend, and man's dogma can be his worst enemy.

At age 55, I learned that little decisions should be made with my head, and big decisions with my heart.

At age 60, I learned that you can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.

At age 65, I learned that to enjoy a long life, one should eat what he wants after he has eaten what he should.

At age 70, I learned that life is not a matter of holding good cards, but playing a poor hand well.

At age 75, I learned that as long as you think you are green, you will continue to grow, and as soon as you think you are ripe, you are rotten.

At age 80, I learned that to love and be loved is the greatest joy in the world.

Finding Her Here

Jayne Relaford Brown

I am becoming the woman I've wanted, gray at the temples, soft body, delighted, cracked up by life--with a laugh that's known bitter but, past it, got better, knows she's a survivor-- that whatever comes, she can outlast it

I am becoming a deep weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman I've longed for, the motherly lover with arms strong and tender, the growing up daughter who blushes surprises.

I am becoming full moons and sunrises. I find her becoming, this woman I've wanted, who knows she'll encompass, who knows she's sufficient knows where she's going and travels with passion, who remembers she's precious, but knows she's not scarce-- who knows she is plenty, plenty to share.





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