I LOVE beings. Beautiful radiant crazy wild devoted dangerous strong weak beings.
I see the divinity in ordinary humans. They glow… with subtle halos. I am filled with awe daily. I marvel... How does it all happen? How do these beings come to exist? What a show!
...Somehow I am able to navigate my mundane tasks while existing in this dumb-struck state of awe.
Feminine beings catapult me into a special flavor of awe. Women & the Female-in-spirit. The dreamers of creation. Their feminine power effortlessly clears my mind and softens my heart. Women, rooted to the earth while synced to the sky via lunar cycles. The mothers. The Grandmothers. Women seem to float a few inches above the ground.
I am a Goddess-worshipper. Something about the feminine face of God sparks my heart. It's not about which gender is better. It's just a profound, inexplicable, destined affinity. Perhaps it's just my place in the cosmic mandala of devotees. There is balance in all things.
So, as I make my way through city streets, subway trains, errands, anywhere in the rat race really, I hold back from offering spontaneous puja rituals in wild devotion. Spontaneous puja is not really a social norm - yet. Instead, I just offer a few words, still loaded with adoration, but ones that likely won't freak them out.
Then I channel this impulse into "performance art," because people seem more likely to tolerate the breaking of social norms when there is a stage and costumes.