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Of Envy and Its Guises

According to Webster’s New World College Dictionary, envy is defined as 1. a feeling of discontent and ill-will because of another’s advantages, possessions, etc.; resentful dislike of another who has something that one desires.  2. desire for some advantage, quality, etc. that another has.  3. an object of envious feeling; and so on as described in the definition.  I have a particular interest in number two:  “desire for some advantage, quality… that another has.”

As I wrote about in my previous post She Was A Knockout, I have been visiting my new orthodontist for major dental work.  My orthodontist is a very pleasant, kind, engaging man in his late sixties and probably on the verge of his retirement.  In fact, after he is finished with me I am sure he could easily retire!

washing-feet-jesusYou might already know, Texas is considered on the fringe of the southern bible-belt.  In some places – like this small southwest Texan town I’m temporarily in – at times you’d think it was firmly in the deep ultra-conservative south.  Everyone knows everyone according to two badges:  what 1,000 acre ranch you own or its family you hale from, and what Christian church you attend.  With those badges come the assumption that on either Saturday afternoon/evening, or Sunday morning, you along with everyone else in town are sitting in a pew; when you’re not in the pew then you are “spreading the Good News!” during the other remaining six days or at least talking about how great the “news” and life is…or I should say, reborn life.

All throughout his office and patient rooms are table-top statues (image above) with no inscriptions but which clearly depict a familiar scene and New Testament story:  Mary the prostitute or a disciple kneeling down washing Christ’s feet.  Up on several walls and on several counters are negative (as opposed to photographic positive) shapes that when closely examined spell “Jesus.”

I am humored by his obvious proclamations.  After all, it is his office and patient rooms…..that he leases from the property management and owners.  And he and his practice, fortunately for him, do reside in a country of religious freedom and speech.  Like him, I am certainly grateful for that privilege.  I smile thinking that as his paying patient, I must represent Jesus in those statues!  Oh no, wait a minute!  Could I be the prostitute, or rather gigolo paying my growing dental bill in whatever manner works!?  I could easily be enslaved to my dentist for several years after all the services rendered!

Like Penis-Envy But Really God-Envy

A submissive gladly shows service to her Dom/Master

A submissive gladly shows service to her Dom/Master

On that note, I have this itching urge to share another interpretation of those many statuettes thoughtfully placed in each of their locations.  It is this:  Did you know that this statue also symbolizes the servitude of a submissive to their Dom, Domme, or Master in the BDSM lifestyle?  I chuckle inside imagining their expressions.  And then my warped sense of humor whispers to me:  this is like penis-envy, except in this office it is God-envy.  I realize my itching ill-expressed humor might exact many more extractions of teeth if I don’t guard my tongue.  I repress.

So you might be asking, what does this have to do with envy?  Bear with me.

As my dentist popped his rubber gloves to work inside my mouth, we got sidetracked by my curiosity to his two digital clocks in the room.  I explained to him (with intended humor) the big one displayed the room temperature, barometric pressure, and weirdly 6:35pm Sunday.  That cannot be so because my appointment was for 8:30am Monday; I was on time.  Furthermore, there is no place on Earth where it was presently 6:37pm Sunday…so I ask you Dr. Einstein – that is the name I’ll give him here to protect his innocence – have you invented a patient room and chair capable of time-travel?  He played along.

But then our conversation turned.  He mentioned that my astrological sign/reading for the day might be treacherous (being in his office laid back in the chair) as he smirked.  And before I could play along with his wit, he quickly retracted his comment apologizing for mocking a system that is a bunch of hogwash and that he doesn’t believe in any of that stuff.  Then he continued, That stuff [astrology] is demonic!  And then he quickly apologized again and stated he should not have said that either because I might like it or believe in it!

Now I’m really enjoying The Orthodontic Squirm Show!  And then he digs his hole deeper and asks me Do you like that stuff?  Do you believe it?

Let me say here, that earlier itch on his statuettes, never wanted to be scratched SO BAD as it did with that question!

Given my situation and trust in his upcoming surgical expertise with my mouth and teeth, I answered, I love space exploration, cosmology, astrophysics, and quantum mechanics.  He replied But that has nothing to do with astrology.  I know it doesn’t I answered.  I hoped he was witty enough to understand my read-between-the-lines answer.  I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing one way or the other if his fumbling had been intrusive or not, even though it wasn’t in the least.  But….Let him sweat!

* * * * * * * * * *

In almost every case, I have never been offended or put off by Christian evangelicals or proselytizing, or even self-perceived prophets.  The kind folks that clutter their front yards with crosses representing Calvary don’t really bother me either.  Having grown up in Texas, having spent two and a half years in seminary myself and four years at a Christian liberal arts college and then five years as a deacon and singles ministry leader all in Mississippi, I know the canonical New Testament teachings and doctrines very, very well.  Those evangelicals, or proselytizers, or prophets, or simple common folk proclaiming Good News are actually obeying quite well what scripture teaches ALL followers to go and do…daily with humility.  I greatly admire their obedience and courage even though I thoroughly disagree with their foundations for doing it.

So why do they do it?

In my mind and reasoning, they are unaware (or in denial) of how amputated, and how misconceived – and maligned through Greco-Roman lenses and traditions – the stories and passages of their bible was canonized versus the real historical events and context of their Savior Yeshua.  Those historical facts are apparently boring and unnecessary.  So I ask myself again, why do they do it so faithfully?  Then the light bulb turns on.  God-envy.

The human brain and body is a remarkable coping mechanism to the sometimes brutal unexplainable force of life.  So we envy those who seem to lift themselves above the pain and chaos and offer a form of hope (and power?), peace, and order.  Fortunately, there are a plethora of successful ways of achieving the happier life or a less anxiety-ridden life and subsequent conquest of death WITHOUT surrendering your soul and innate gifts to an ancient proxy shrouded in Greco-Roman traditions.  In the doctrines of mainstream Christianity that “surrendering” is referred to as humanity’s total depravity.

Geocentric2

Geocentrism/Egocentrism formerly taught by the Roman Church…which begat all later Christian churches today.

Consequently, and to humanity’s detriment for two plus millennia, mainstream Christian doctrines don’t teach self-reliance, self-empowerment or self-actualization because that was not the Greco-Roman way of control and imperialism during the formation of the canonical New Testament; so we envy its Messiah…a greatly diluted form of individual potential.

I wonder if my orthodontist knows that it is because of astrology and other fields of science that mankind successfully navigated the vast oceans, understood when crops needed to be planted and harvested, that the Earth circles the Sun and not the Sun/cosmos circling Man’s planet, or more importantly three Eastern Arabian kings bearing royal gifts followed a great Supernova in the night sky — which astrologers and cosmologists have determined was not in the month of December — with navigation built upon centuries of incredible Arabian-Persian science and astrology?  What do you think?

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Footnote – If interested in the historical context of the Greco-Roman deification of Yeshua of Nazareth, start with my post Constantine:  Christianity’s True Catalyst/Christ or the other The Suffering Messiah That Wasn’t Jesus.  For further reading and understanding of Yeshua’s/Jesus’ deep Jewish-Roman world, I recommend Dr. James Tabor’s work and website at The Jewish Roman World of Jesus.  It is an excellent highly informative site of overlooked context by today’s Roman Catholic and Protestant churches.

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Live Laugh Love

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She Was A Knockout!

I had retired from my semi-pro and professional soccer career and was in a transition trying to decide what I wanted to do next.  It was 1996 and for the time being I was helping a friend manage one of north Dallas’ well-known nothing-but-soccer retail stores.  Many times coaches, team captains, and booster-clubs would come in for assistance in ordering team uniforms for the upcoming school or amateur league seasons.  This time of year also included the local women’s teams and co-ed teams.  But before I go any further, let me explain the well-known fact risk a “retired” male professional (and lifetime single-gender) soccer player takes when joining an amateur co-ed team and league.

The Play-At-Your-Own-Peril Rule

Notice-Play-At-Risk-SignI began playing soccer at the age of ten.  By middle school I was playing competitive soccer – what today is called select soccer – and wanted not only to play professionally, but try to at least make the U.S. Men’s National Team roster.  What was often whispered among such serious players with such lofty dreams was try your best not to play with or against the clueless recreational teams and players, but more critically never play with or against girls.  Now ladies, before you go into your rant, please bear with me and let me explain what it’s about and why it was a whispered rule.

First of all, not playing against recreational teams is a policy most major sports franchises enforce and hence protect their high-valued stars.  Second of all, and a lesson I learned several times in my career, from a tactical and confidence standpoint the stronger professional players gain very little or nothing at all by playing the weaker/amateur team other than a practice, or an opportunity to let 2nd and 3rd stringers get playing time.  In those rare cases the pro team takes a slim chance in damaging their status or image if they play poorly or worse, lose.

The reason male pro players almost never play competitively against women – and I am genuinely not trying to insult female athletes – is for the simple reason that both teams and genders risk unnecessary injury.  In sports, on the whole, women’s bodies move differently than men’s.  Momentum, for whatever reason, is initiated and managed differently between the genders.  If you don’t believe me, simply watch the two sexes in slow-motion action and how they ‘collide’.

It is a well-established unspoken rule that in competitive contact sports a man plays at his own risk against women.  I had known this law for eighteen years.

The Never-ending Beer and Female Introductions Carrot

Returning now to 1996, three attractive female soccer players have been visiting our soccer store often in preparation for the upcoming co-ed season opener.  Their player roster is also not complete; they desperately need a goalkeeper!  For reasons unknown to me, no one presently on the team wanted to play goalkeeper.  And before these very charming women asked, I knew exactly what was about to come out of their seductive mouths…. “We have heard about how good a goalkeeper you are and that you’ve even played professionally!”  Huh!?  I wasn’t expecting that approach!  Hmm, I’ll give ‘em that…. stroking my ego is a good tactical move.  But you ladies, I was thinking, are going to have to come up with a lot more before I even entertain the remote possibility of risking my safety!  I shook my head two or three times, No, sorry ladies.

ColdBeerHotWomenAnd then came the coup d’état.

We will buy” they countered with smirks “all of your beer after every game and promise to introduce you to a minimum of three HOT women players each weekend!”  To say I was aroused would be gross understatement.  “When does the season start?” I replied.

In my hyper-excited mind, I imagined consecutive weekends of hot dates galore and massive amounts of sleep-overs.  The score line of our games or whether we had a winning season or not was of absolutely no concern for me.  I happily signed my lop-sided contract!

Game 1 of 12

The referee’s opening whistle blew.  The comical usual cheering and smack-talk began from both teams and their fans/family members on the sidelines.  It truly made me laugh; I had already heard the most abusive and slandering and loudest rhetoric in my career having played around the world.  I was more entertained by my thoughts of the post-game festivities.  Damn, we were only about ten minutes into our game.  Ah, here comes a cross into my penalty box from my left, between the penalty spot and the eighteen-yard line….easy, easy pickings.  I quickly come out to snatch it.

I scream the usual scream to my defense “Keeper’s!”  I launch into my usual very high-vertical leap, snag the ball with extended arms ABOVE my head, and as per my umpteen years of training and experience proceed to pull the ball down into my chest….. but then SLAM and everything goes black and silent.

The next moment I remember are the EMT’s putting the smelling sauce under my nose.  HOLY SHIT my entire jaw and face are in excruciating pain!  The EMT’s keep asking me several questions, load me onto their gurney, and I am transported to the nearest ER.  There the attending physician informs me that I need 10 stitches on my right under side edge of my chin, and my jaw is broken in two places on the left side near the front of my ear.  I will also have to have my jaw and mouth wired shut for six to eight weeks.  Two of those three women who talked me in to playing are there consoling me “…they didn’t score.”  With my best scolding look I murmured what I hoped sounded like “This is NOT how I wanted to frickin meet women!”  I mean shit, I never even saw her!  How many beers could have been bought with the upcoming ambulance, emergency room, and doctors bill!?

My co-ed season was over before it began.

Manchester United's Jones is carried off the pitch on a stretcher during their English Premier League soccer match against Arsenal in London

Image courtesy of rakball.net

Further details of the collision shared by them made my predicament even more depressing – and over time, made theirs a favorite pub story.  A long story short, the girl THOUGHT by unimaginable lotto odds, she’d have a chance to head that ball…. with her eyes closed for God’s sake!  The top of her head hit my chin if that gives you ANY idea of how wrong she was!  And by the way, that ball she thought she could head was firmly in my hands three-feet above my chin!  In my profession, on my futebol pitch, with other professional male athletes, it was a NO BRAINER that no one could have had any chance of getting their head on that ball.  They would not have even jumped!  I hope as you are reading you are picking up on my enraged astonishment.

May 2013

I am fortunate to have great dental genetics from both parents.  As I was taught by my parents, I take above average care of those teeth.  As a result, I have learned that my mouth is fine with irregular orthodontic checkups; like on the every 3 to 5 year frequency or more.  In fact, I did not get my first cavity until I was 24-years old and it was barely a cavity.  Often orthodontists would admire my teeth, entire mouth and all my wisdom teeth.

This time I was returning to the dentist after twelve years.  However, this visit I knew I was well past the “praise” of the hygienist and her doctor:  I had what was likely a developing abscess.  I was expecting the dreaded line “Yes, it will have to come out.”  But then my new orthodontist asked a question that was totally from left field.

Have you ever had a traumatic facial injury?

The Good News, the Bad News, and the Recurring News

My orthodontist confessed that he really didn’t have to ask that question; he knew I had had a traumatic facial injury.  He was viewing all the evidence on the x-rays up in the light.  In his many years of practice he had seen it a thousand times.  And once again, I had to retell the above story to him.  As I was about to begin, I thought to myself, that damn invisible woman is STILL haunting me!  And that proverbial line:  I didn’t even get her name.  The dentist begins his verdict…

The good news is that for not being in for a checkup and cleaning for ages, your condition is good and normal.  The bad news is that not only does that abscessed tooth need to come out, but you have two more that need extraction, probably a fourth, and maybe a fifth.  “And you know what’s strange about your condition,” he asked, “you don’t have cavities in any of those 3-5 teeth!”  The erupting roots in all those teeth are a result of that facial injury.

Now over the next 3-weeks, I will be getting surgical extractions, fitted for a 3 or 5 toothed denture, and paying $2,500 – $5,000 to stop any further problems; from a problem that began with:  When does the season start?

The 1970’s Carpenters song Close to You goes on and on in my head:

That is why all the girls in town
(Girls in town)
Follow you
(Follow you)
All around
[But I saw nothing!]…
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you

* * * * * * * * * *

An All-Points-Bulletin for athletic men who have weakened will-power around all things seductively female:

Sooner or later, one way or another, you WILL pay for a woman’s company, that introduction, and anything else you desire of her!

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Live Well — Love Much — Laugh Often — Learn Always

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Sometimes

Attaching music to a message is one great way to make that message stick and stick deep in the heart and soul.  As I have been hearing and reading lately the news about equality for all American citizens of all races, religion, ethnicity, and ever so inevitably…gender and orientation — Minnesota being the latest — I thought of this artist and song.  I think it (and feel it) very appropriate for these wonderful and right Winds of Change.  This post is somewhat a continuation of the previous post:  along the lines of genetic and hormonal development in all people.

NordhausenI can only imagine how scary it must be and feel to be chastised for simply being biologically and neurologically different than the accepted norm since being in your mother’s womb; being different since your embryonic stage.  What a sometimes hopeless feeling not to understand why so many people think you and/or call you inferior, sick, or worse a product of evil.  In some homes growing up, the bitterness and shaming could even turn violent if a mother or father had a volatile temper.  When I thoroughly imagine those horrid circumstances at home or in public, like at school, or possibly every corner you turn….it begins to enrage me against moronic uninformed uneducated bigotry; let alone a lack of compassion, understanding, and peaceful tolerance.  Imagine a young child or teen not understanding their “unusual” feelings that seemingly NO ONE agrees with or condones.  And perhaps they are always so ready to pound you into conformity for something which was firmly developed in your embryonic stage!  If you would like to be quickly tutored on exactly what scientific medical research has been compiling for non-standardized gender relations….read my post Toss the 2-D Glasses.  Meanwhile, listen, read the lyrics, and hopefully enjoy this relevant song “Sometimes” by the German band And One.

Daddy said that I’m a good boy
Caus I always did his will
But I can’t remember,
was it me – how did I feel
I call’em family,
but in the heart of hearts I know
There’s something wrong with me,
what can I do?

Mother said that I’m a good girl
I was always dressed to kill
But I can’t remember,
was it me – how did I feel
Now this is long ago
But today I’m really sure
I don’t wanna crawl no more
No I don’t want to

I want to be all alone
(to be all alone)
(leave me all alone)
(I’m so lonely)
Sometimes I don’t know what I prefer to be
That’s all that I can see

So I burnt down the house of hate
The key to close the door
What a nice September
I found out it’s not too late
Its happened yesterday
But today I’m really sure
I don’t wanna crawl no more
No I don’t want to

I want to be all alone
(to be all alone)
(leave me all alone)
(I’m so lonely)
Sometimes I don’t know what I prefer to be
That’s all that I can see

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DRD4-7R

orchid

Orchid?

No, it is not a new type of iPhone, or video recorder, or measurement, or even the launch code for your nearby missile silo.  Give up trying to guess what DRD4-7R is because it is so small, so tiny, that you will never touch it.  It could be inferred that cats have it, but that assumption would fall short when they returned home, every time.  No, it is not explicitly manifested in any animal on Earth and it cannot be found in any plant or stone.  But it is indeed part of our human wiring.

Many times throughout my adult life I have asked myself Why am I so intrigued with new things, new places, new feelings, and new people?  Why do I start to get restless over a long period of time seeking new adventures?  I accepted long ago that I have this Marco Polo type personality; I love to inquire.  I love to explore!  Why?  If you understand the purpose and nuances of goalkeepers in sports, like hockey or my lifetime sport soccer, then you’ll understand this one:  why did I choose to, no persisted in playing the position of goalkeeper?  What sane person wants objects hurled or kicked at them hard?  Then the other day I read a fascinating article in the January 2013 issue of National Geographic magazine ironically asking and answering my same questions!  This totally explains my addiction to everything National Geographic!  More please!  I read further.  Ah, dopamine.  It’s the dopamine!  Hmm, duh.

Or dandelion?

Or dandelion?

For those of you with a slight variant of dopamine than perhaps I and others may have, dopamine “is a neurotransmitter that helps control the brain’s reward and pleasure centers.  Dopamine also helps regulate movement and emotional responses, and it enables us not only to see rewards, but to take action to move toward them.  Dopamine deficiency results in Parkinson’s Disease, and people with low dopamine activity may be more prone to addiction.  The presence of a certain kind of dopamine receptor is also associated with sensation-seeking” according to Psychology Today.  Not so coincidentally, though I am not an “addict,” several of my extended family members are addicts…as well as my sister.  I guess I selfishly stole most of it from mother’s womb before my sister could snatch any.  I know she’ll argue this, but I was always quicker than her!  And not surprisingly, several laboratory studies in Europe, Israel, and the U.S. have found that a lack of the 7R variant is linked to depression or lower motivation.  I found this result very interesting.

As I continued to read, in my mind all the dots — from the broad picture down to the microscopic — were connecting and making perfect sense; perfect harmony like a homecoming.  But not permanent!  A homecoming and going!  And my fascination with bird cages — naturally with an open door or no door — now made sense too.

Orchids versus Dandelions

Am I an orchid thriving in stimulating environments, or am I a dandelion that manages to adapt and survive in harsh environments?

Perhaps the better question would be could there be hybrids of the two?  David Dobbs has written several articles on this gene and the genetic-cultural roots of human temperament, and is the writer of this National Geographic article that has captivated me.  He explains:

“If an urge to explore rises in us innately, perhaps its foundation lies within our genome.  In fact, there is a mutation that pops up frequently in such discussions:  a variant of a gene called DRD4, which helps control dopamine, a chemical brain messenger important in learning and reward.  Researchers have repeatedly tied the variant, known as DRD4-7R and carried by roughly 20 percent of all humans, to curiosity and restlessness.  Dozens of human studies have found that 7R makes people more likely to take risks; explore new places, ideas, foods, relationships [guilty in the 1st degree there!], drugs, or sexual opportunities [should I say it again?]; and generally embrace movement, change, and adventure.  Studies in animals simulating 7R’s actions suggest it increases their taste for both movement and novelty.  (Not incidentally, it is also closely associated with ADHD.)”

"Take one 10mg tablet once daily; for severe cases take with liquor in a Hazmet suit."

“Take one 10mg tablet once daily; for severe cases take with liquor in a Hazmat suit.”

In another March 2012 article on Wired.com, Dobbs further explains:

“This revisionist hypothesis is known variously as the sensitivity hypothesis, the differential susceptibility hypothesis, or the orchid-dandelion hypothesis — a term that Thomas Boyce and Bruce Ellis coined based on the vernacular Swedish term “dandelion children,” who seem to grow up okay in almost any environment; to that they added “orchid children,” who thrive under good care but wilt under bad. It is a young hypothesis, hatched 15 years ago and obscure for most of that time. But in the last two or three years it has gained enormous traction, spreading through behavioral genetics, child development, and anthropology.”

At this point in my reading and research I feel as if I’m reading parts of my biography or journal called This Is Who I Am and Why.  It helps me at least process further and understand so many how’s and why’s, like Why have I been single unmarried most of my life?  Have I not been hanging around long enough in the right flower or weed gardens!?  Does this explain my need for Zyrtec at certain times and circumstances of the year! Geeezzzz.  It does make sense:  like a love-hate thing for the beauty of new outdoor places, but then you discover all the annoying bugs, insects, reptiles, and yes, inevitably Medusa!  No, I’m kidding…..about nature’s creatures.  Hah!

On a serious note however, geneticist are also associating the 7R variant, and another:  the 2R, back to our ancient ancestors in Africa 70,000 – 50,000 years ago.  For a quick tutorial read my post Our Family Reunion.

Anthropologists suggest that this minority of humans are the reason mankind migrated out of Africa; to find new sources of food and a different way of life.  Scientist do know that astronauts or cosmonauts, or whatever title the sponsoring group bestows on their explorers/adventurers, 7R is definitely found in their genetic code.  They are the risk-reward breed and today they are found in many walks of life.  On a spectrum left to right 1 through 5, left being pure orchids (1)….right being pure dandelions (5), I am firmly a two if not one-and-a-half.  I most definitely get restless after long periods of routine.  I am not saying I am ADHD and can’t focus — on the contrary I am very task-oriented — but I am most certainly not a permanent settler!  This is probably why I have some, umm, excuse me….(ahhh-CHOU!) dandelion in me:  I am happy to adapt….to what I want to adapt to….and as long as a few other Bohemians are around, then I will be first in line!  Let’s go!

Are you an orchid or a dandelion?  Or perhaps something in between?  And why?

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FootnoteFor the full Dobbs National Geographic magazine article, go to this link:  Restless Genes

Live Laugh Love

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Let Your Fears Go

Sunlounger+feat+Zara+shah++zara

Sunlounger & Zara Taylor

As my previous post stated, I have done a lot of work outdoors.  Some of it enjoyable and some of it down right exhausting.  Up, down, up, down…kneel, squat, bend over (don’t let your imaginations go there!), then repeat.  Yet what has made it all more a labor of love and not just labor has been the addition of my music.  My vocal trance music which is energizing and upbeat with gorgeous vocals and addicting rhythms.  The addicting rhythms are most definitely the cause of my many sore stiff shoulder muscles and abs!  Ah, the wonderful pain that is good and healthy!  It is welcomed soreness that some of you, like me, who have been and a part of the BDSM lifestyle can deeply understand.  In the lifestyle it is described as flying or sub-space; a natural euphoric high of neurons, hormones, and soulful dimensions.  And my music lifts me and launches me there every time.  Here is one of those tracks that propels me, especially at the 5:25 mark building up to the 7:08 mark…oh my frickin GOD that part puts me in a timeless oblivious place!

My favorite part of Zara’s lyrics:

Just let your fears go
You might find your way back home
Let your fears go
You might find that you’re not alone.

One of my favorite quotes I reference many times and which means so much to me is “Fear stifles, courage fulfills.”  Four simple words with enormous power!  Think about it.  And in this case while this fantastic song plays, FEEL IT!

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Live Laugh Love

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