Sunday, February 15, 2009 @ 9:25am

As God's beloved, I am here to remember and to reveal the perfection of the Divine that is within me. www.scienceofmind.com affirmation.
Sunday mornings are my favorite time of the week and the day when I feel the most expansive not necessarily in a spiritual way but in a physical way. The need to be doing something is completely eliminated on days like today, I commune with my body and spend time walking, stretching, assessing what the status of my physical body. A time of being in tune with my bones, joints, organs as well as many of inner and outer workings of my body. Today I am looking at my hands. I have big hands, more to hug someone with. They are manly almost if it weren't for the delicate fingernail beds and smooth skin. I have the hands of someone who didn't have to do much physical work but my hands are starting to age, wrinkle in places, slightly bulging blood vessels and spots of discoloration. I look at my fat fingers, long and my midle finger is crooked, this is something that was passed down to me from my mother. Her middle finger is this way and I believe either my sister or brother has this trait and perhaps one of my children. I was never a big ring wearer and in this moment I realize I have never received a ring from anyone. Rings were problematic for my long and fat fingers, finding a size 10 I think it is ring was like finding a needle in a hay stack, always impossible. Every now in then when I am at a store that is selling hematite rings I try to find my size and it's usually in the basket for men or extra-large sizes. I used to have my high school ring, my mother kept it but knowing the consequences of my brothers drug addiction, I'm sure that ring has been long pawned off to someone or someplace for drugs, I dare not ask my mother for fear of knowing this to be true and how disheartening it would be.
I'm prompted to look for some rings, lane bryant and the avenue stores, clothing stores for full figured women have a selection of jewlery but I never tend to veer to that part of the store and look. Also, I like the funky big rings with large precious stones or something colorful and dramatic. I used to get my nails did, french tips but long nails get in the way of me doing the things I find myself doing. It did make my hands look nice but it seemed like a waste of money and for some reason it never lasted. On the inside of my palm are long thick lines, very similar in look for each hand but one hand has a really pronounced break in one of the lines. They say these lines are predictions of your life path, I've heard that the break is an indication of major changes in my life and someone told me it meant death at a young age but since I was prepared to die young and didn't, I can throw that theory out of the wall. The truth is there were many days I wanted to die and was attempting to find a means but in the end I choose life.
I hate to admit this but my hands are extremely ashy this morning, I washed my hair yesterday and never put any lotion on them. Mostly because I spent the better part of the day re-twisting my hair and it took over four hours just to get it twisted. Another one to two hours to wash and condition the hair and the night before it took nearly two hours to take the twist down and comb through the bushel of dirt and tangles. This hair thing is a day long adventure but what better way to spend valentine's than making oneself look good for their future valentines.
I put it into the universe this small statement of what I am accepting as fact. For the rest of my days on the earth, I will have someone special in my life, a long term intimate partnership and this person will be my valentine. That is to say, I will spend every valentine's day starting in 2010 and until my departure back into the spirit realm, I will spend that day with my soul mate, the soul I choose to mate with. What a wonderful gift to myself, I deserve it and so it is.
These hands are actually my fathers hands, when I met him this one of the first things I noticed about him and the first thing that indicated that he was really my father. It's in the bone structure, length of the fingers, the girth of the hands and the way knuckles are made as well as the strong pronounced lines in the palm. I suspect that these are also my paternal grandmothers hands, I think I heard somewhere vaguely that she was a tall woman of pronounced stature, meaning she was big boned like me. I sometimes wish I knew more than this recollection of information that I am unsure if it is fact or fiction. I would love to see pictures of her and learn about her life, her love of a man and the subsequent birth of my father. What kind of man doesn't want to share his mother with the world? Maybe I will search for her myself, I'm certain that she is not alive or so I think but someone out there must still know her or remember her or there has to be some pictures somewhere. I think my father said that he was an only child and that his parents were only children. This information is pulled from somewhere and could be completely untrue. I do think that my father is an only child but he could of lied about this.
Hands hold history, they tell stories of lives lived. They are reminders of appendages that are most seen and felt and utilized. Sometimes they give away many details of a life and sometimes they hide the horror of living but either way they are what we take for granted. I look at scars and can't recall their origination or how severe or how they healed. I embrace my hands and I am determined to use them often in my partnership with my beloved. I am using them to hug more, I am using them to touch more, I am using them to till the soil, I am using them to massage the body, I am using them more as a device to bring about peace, I am using them to wave, I am using them to tap on guitar strings, to write the stories I was meant to write, to paint, to color, to tap on computer keyboards, to wear rings, to dig in my nose, to scratch those itches, to praise God, to clap, to play the tambourine, to wash clothes, to clean dishes, to fold clothes, to vacuum, to turn switches, nobs, buttons, to pray and I promise to take care of my hands, clean the nails, push back the cuticles and keep them moisturized with lotion.
The phalanges have begifted me a good life. Have withstood lots of neglect and abuse but they keep on, keeping on. What is most true is that my hands reflect strength, a physical strength but also a spiritual strength and for that I am grateful. My nails tend to grow but I bite them or tear them off in a fit of nervousness and it amazes me when I look down at my hands again, to see the new nail growing long and stronger before. I've been blessed to not have issues with my hands, they have cooperated with me and have been good at both large motor and fine motor skill functions. As big as my fingers are, they can dig things out of small places. Lastly, my middle finger is the largest and have served many purposes including the salutory purpose of flicking someone off in a not so nice way. I have sometimes wondered if my middle finger was made just for the 'fuck you' signature pose. With such a big finger, long, pronounced and dark you can't help but get the message, there is no denying what I am trying to say when I allow this middle finger to take center stage alone. I haven't used this finger in this way in a long time and I was never really a fan of the middle finger expression, I was never really a fan of any expression that degrades people. I rather use my whole hand to provide others with a healing and loving touch. I'm super affection and enjoy rubbing, touching and massaging the body. My son always gets tired of me rubbing my hands through his hair although he never pushes my hand away, I know he secretly loves this. My daughter loves to sit on my lap even as she is now at age where she can legally drink, she likes when I rub my hands on her back. And my other son just likes for me to touch him in any way that shows affection, he is a hugger. I think he just likes the sense of protection that comes when I put my arm around him or on his back or on his shoulder or against the side of his face or on his bald head.
I am perfect and I am whole and I am complete. I LOVE ME.