The Power is in the We

Let’s be clear… We the People did not choose him.

As life moves forward in “The World According to Trump” I see the similarities between this man that THEY chose as our President and the cartoon that childhood was for me.

Bombastic… Self-Righteous… Oppressor… Womanizer… Defiler of Children… Narcissist.

With sex offenders on every street.

Does this man who now is our leader represent the people that make up our United States? His character falls right in line with Bill Cosby the man with the reputation for his love of children. His persona bumps up hard against the reality of who he is as a person. Then Woody Alan the man who molests his daughter. We stand beside him again and again against his victim. She writes… She speaks out… We give him awards.

This happens all of the time with our spiritual leaders. Priests are having affairs or making advances on little boys. Osho got drunk on power and women. David Miscavige the leader of Scientology Or the even more famous Jim Jones from the Peoples Temple.

We have somehow been able to separate these men from their words and actions. We chose instead to be entertained.

His values and morals… his core beliefs. Is this the man we choose or want our kids to choose to emulate?

A man who abuses and objectifies women operates from a place of hate and division… Where is our God in that?

All of us out there who claim the ideas of a Creator or a Higher Power. Can we say that we are making choices in alignment with what our God would choose?

We have found acceptability, somehow, as his words and actions fly against Us… Women… We…We the people… We crucify one president for a blowjob on one hand and vote in a man whose sexual misconduct is plastered everywhere… Court dates pending… Yet the majority have voted his behavior acceptable or at the very least we have chosen to separate his words and behavior from his coming duties.

My belly yells at me with familiarity.

I’m sure many of you have backgrounds that bear some resemblance to what I am about to share.

My father was a poor man’s version of Donald Trump. My father spoke and we jumped. If not, well, we got the shit beat out of us. My first huge encounter with him I was 6 months old. I almost decided not to come back from that one. I mean why would I. The man in my nest was trying to kill me and the one that brought me here watched.

I slept with one eye open in fear of waking up to him lurking in my bedroom. I learned to be really still and pretend to be asleep while he did what he did. My brother slept with a baseball bat. Our life was unpredictable.

We were ruled by fear.

Women were dirt under his feet. They were on the planet to boost his ego. Make him feel good and then be slapped away. Prejudices. Every gay man was trying to hit on him. He was superior to any race. The depth of narcissism and fear ran so deep his clarity and judgment were like the head of a pin. He could not see outside of his I… Me… I…perception of every situation. Every horse show, every speech, every everything we did was a direct reflection on him. Loosing… Unacceptable. I hated for him to show up at the horse shows. did with the horse shows. If losing weren’t on the table already it was as soon as he showed up. The fear would take over. What is dad going to say? What is dad going to do?

The rise of I collapses the We.

My father is laying in the hospital waiting for his third or fourth back surgery. He is obsessed with the idea that there is going to be a child with black blood at their family Christmas party. “What if she decides to touch him? What is he going to do? He doesn’t want to be mean to the little girl. What is the matter with her? F…ing a black man.”

How could she do this to me?

I am being kind here with the language. He had just found out that his great-niece has given birth to a baby girl. The family had been keeping it from him in fear of his reaction. The father was Black. What? He hardly knew what to do with himself.

I know you are sitting there creating labels right now. And believe me, we could come up with more than a few.


I find life to shift when our reality reaches cartoon proportions.

I know as a child there came a moment when I looked at this man with the illusion stripped away. It was very clear to me that his behavior was not rational or acceptable. I got to a point where I felt him younger than me. He felt like a frightened, super angry, 13-year-old. It was crazy really. I was sixteen. I threatened to call the police and start talking. He shook his head and walked away… God D..b F…ing kid… Right? He didn’t know what to do with that.

The power of fear.

The words he implanted in my body have taken a lifetime to extract. His effect on the trajectory of my life was huge. Right?

So in my prayer time and meditations, these images rose to the surface.

In response to the images, the question that arose is what is our next choice. The next right choice.

The division that we are feeling collectively is an outward manifestation of what is going on and has been going on here from the ground up. When our families, our nests, our children are raped, beaten and worst of all denied any attention at all who do think they are going to become?

Life is reflected back to us in magnitude. The change that needs to occur is on the big screen for all of us to see. What he represents is in blaring loud and large what trickles all the way down to me… To you.

I see the uprise happening amongst our kids in outrage. I see the angry words of the Facebook posts.

Again I want to reiterate before a big change occurs life has to reach cartoon proportions.

Overwhelmingly I hear the power of the feminine… Of woman… Is what is missing.

Our fear is separating us from our birthright.

So as we step into this new phase in our country the necessity for us to take the reins and make our own choices is now.

We can change it. We can shift this trajectory.

I think that if one great thing comes from this mans display is a push to examine ourselves.

What do you stand for? What do you believe is important. Who are you?

Turning our focus to How we show up is the answer.

Tweaking ourselves. Working with ourselves like there is no tomorrow… Because there really isn’t.

Collectively, ladies,  we have birthed everyone here! We have given them the programming that makes them who they are today.

Mom energy is such an amazing example of the power of We. We come to the planet, with the ability to see for the whole while supporting each member of the clan as an individual.

When we are the focus the We the I will be supported. Together! Like minds coming Together!

Here are the secret ladies… As we create a circle all points are equal. As we join forces knowing that together and connected we are stronger. When a woman steps into momma bear mode. When she comes out, all forces, in defense or in support of we…. When she chooses to make we the focus of all of her attention… We will have a different quality of humans.

We regain our Power one choice at a time.

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