Anytime We Feed Soul, It Guarantees Increase.

Within Every Woman There Is A Wild And Natural Creature, A Powerful Force, Filled With Good Instincts, Passionate Creativity, And Ageless Knowing.

It Makes Utter Sense To Stay Healthy And Strong, To Be As Nourishing To The Body As Possible. Yet I Would Have To Agree, There Is In Many Women A 'hungry' One Inside. But Rather Than Hungry To Be A Certain Size, Shape, Or Height, Rather Than Hungry To Fit The Stereotype; Women Are Hungry For Basic Regard From The Culture Surrounding Them. The 'hungry' One Inside Is Longing To Be Treated Respectfully, To Be Accepted And In The Very Least, To Be Met Without Stereotyping.

I Come From A Long Line Of Tellers: Mesemondok, Old Hungarian Women Who Tell While Sitting On Wooden Chairs With Their Plastic Pocketbooks On Their Laps, Their Knees Apart, Their Skirts Touching The Ground... And Cuentistas, Old Latina Women Who Stand, Robust Of Breast, Hips Wide, And Cry Out The Story Ranchera Style. Both Clans Storytell In The Plain Voice Of Women Who Have Lived Blood And Babies, Bread And Bones. For Them, Story Is A Medicine Which Strengthens And Arights The Individual And The Community.

Ours Is Not The Task Of Fixing The Entire World All At Once, But Of Stretching Out To Mend The Part Of The World That Is Within Our Reach. Any Small, Calm Thing That One Soul Can Do To Help Another Soul, To Assist Some Portion Of This Poor Suffering World, Will Help Immensely. It Is Not Given To Us To Know Which Acts Or By Whom, Will Cause The Critical Mass To Tip Toward An Enduring Good.

Be Wild; That Is How To Clear The River. The River Does Not Flow In Polluted, We Manage That. The River Does Not Dry Up, We Block It. If We Want To Allow It Its Freedom, We Have To Allow Our Ideational Lives To Be Let Loose, To Stream, Letting Anything Come, Initially Censoring Nothing. That Is Creative Life. It Is Made Up Of Divine Paradox. To Create One Must Be Willing To Be Stone Stupid, To Sit Upon A Throne On Top Of A Jackass And Spill Rubies From One’s Mouth. Then The River Will Flow, Then We Can Stand In The Stream Of It Raining Down.