So, I take myself on an outing to my nearest town, which is 12.5 miles away and my first stop is the ATM that I pass enroute to the Post Office.
I wait for the woman in front of me, and by the time I step up to the machine there are at least two people queuing behind me.
After keying in my pin code I unfortunately read a little label that is stuck to the machine close to the keyboard. It reads something like
"Do not stare into the laser beam!"
uh oh. no please. not here. not now. at least not loudly.
please please pleeeease. Get a grip! Control yourself woman!
You are on your own!
Do you EVEN know how socially unacceptable it is to have a fit of giggles - while on your own... because of a cash machine!!??
Thankfully, my money came quick and I dashed left pronto, hiding my face from the queue of people behind me.
I have no idea why I find things soooo funny sometimes but warning about laser beams did it for me on this particular occasion.
Please tell me I am not the only one who gets random attacks of the giggles?
I love this post so much and know I will want to read this one again, and again, and again....
From the Wild Woman Sisterhood Facebook Post : :
There she is. . . the “too much” woman.
The one who loves too hard, feels too deeply, asks too often, desires too much.
There she is taking up too much space, with her laughter, her curves, her honesty, her sexuality. Her presence is as tall as a tree, as wide as a mountain. Her energy occupies every crevice of the room. Too much space she takes.
There she is causing a ruckus with her persistentwanting, too much wanting. She desires a lot, wants everything—too much happiness, too much alone time, too much pleasure. She’ll go through brimstone, murky river, and hellfire to get it. She’ll risk all to quell the longings of her heart and body. This makes her dangerous.
She is dangerous.
And there she goes, that “too much” woman, making people think too much, feel too much, swoon too much. She with her authentic prose and a self-assuredness in the way she carries herself. She with her belly laughs and her insatiable appetite and her proneness to fiery passion. All eyes on her, thinking she’s hot shit.
Oh, that “too much” woman. . . too loud, too vibrant, too honest, too emotional, too smart, too intense, too pretty, too difficult, too sensitive, too wild, too intimidating, too successful, too fat, too strong, too political, too joyous, too needy—too much.
She should simmer down a bit, be taken down a couple notches. Someone should put her back in a more respectable place. Someone should tell her.
Here I am. . . the Too Much Woman, with my too-tender heart and my too-much emotions.
A hedonist, feminist, pleasure seeker, empath. I want a lot—justice, sincerity, spaciousness, ease, intimacy, actualization, respect, to be seen, to be understood, your undivided attention, and all of your promises to be kept.
I’ve been called high maintenance because I want what I want, and intimidating because of the space I occupy. I’ve been called selfish because I am self-loving. I’ve been called a witch because I know how to heal myself.
And still. . . I rise. Still, I want and feel and ask and risk and take up space.
Us Too Much Women have been facing extermination for centuries—we are so afraid of her, terrified of her big presence, of the way she commands respect and wields the truth of her feelings. We’ve been trying to stifle the Too Much Woman for ions—in our sisters, in our wives, in our daughters. And even now, even today, we shame the Too Much Woman for her bigness, for her wanting, for her passionate nature.
And still. . . she thrives.
In my own world and before my very eyes, I am witnessing the reclamation and rising up of the Too Much Woman. That Too Much Woman is also known to some as Wild Woman or the Divine Feminine. In any case, she is me, she is you, and she is loving that she’s finally, finally getting some airtime.
If you’ve ever been called “too much,” or “overly emotional,” or “bitchy,” or “stuck up,” you are likely a Too Much Woman.
And if you are. . . I implore you to embrace all that you are—all of your depth, all of your vastness; to not hold yourself in, and to never abandon yourself, your bigness, your radiance.
Forget everything you’ve heard—your too much-ness is a gift; oh yes, one that can heal, incite, liberate, and cut straight to the heart of things.
Do not be afraid of this gift, and let no one shy you away from it. Your too much-ness is magic, is medicine. It can change the world.
Don’t believe me? Check this: All of your favorite women, the ones who’ve made history, the ones who’ve lent their voices for change and have courageously given themselves permission to be exactly who they are. Some examples: Oprah, Ronda Rousey, Beyoncé, Kali, Misty Copeland, Janet Mock, Mary Magdalene . . . they’re all Too Much Women.
So please, Too Much Woman: Ask. Seek. Desire. Expand. Move. Feel. Be.
Make your waves, fan your flames, give us chills.
We need you.
Author: Ev’Yan Whitney
OK, I'm doing it!
Living / Being / Doing something creative every day in September.
Thursday September 1st :
Facebook reminded me how enthusiastic and motivated I was two years ago to embark on a month of creativity.
I only made my mind up to do so again this year at 8pm this evening and so I got out the smallest 'canvas' I own - a mini journal.
And seeing king as it is so tiny I did three pages instead of just one.
The point of a month long project for me is not about end results, but consistency.
Even when I am tired / busy / don't feel like.
So whether stretched for time or art materials being packed in the car, I will find (creative!) ways to make it happen. This is my commitment to myself.
We are all lighthouses, shining our lights and, in turn, guiding others Home to their greatness too. Shine Your Light Bright One! xxx