Healing the Divine Masculine - in ALL of us

I'm studying Rapid Resolution Therapy (RRT) and realizing how far I've come. I understand that our thoughts make us sick and not the things in and of themselves. For example, I'm crushing on the RRT senior there, yet I know (no, I don't know, but I imagine) that he might be seeing someone.  So, the image of them together could bring feelings of jealousy... yet, now I've learned that I can change my thoughts about jealousy, make that concept incomprehensible, and it happens in seconds. Even if he was married, it doesn't bother me at all. I'm happy for them already. We must wish one another well; it's in the highest interest of all people that we feed the collective consciousness with good wishes and unconditional love. The book - A Happy Pocket Full of Money also reminds me that there are no conditions! Our thoughts create corresponding conditions for our specific situations all the time. So - change your thoughts, and you change your external conditions.

I made so many bad mistakes in my sex and love life, more than I could count. The good news is that we can’t make fatal mistakes with the wrong people. They’re wrong for us, so good riddance. In all other cases - mistakes are lessons that still move us towards what we want, only in unexpected ways. I don’t know what it is about my attracting - or succumbing to - the wrong characters for me. Weak boundaries, low self-worth; maybe some kinda naïveté? My naive heart wants to believe in good souls, loyalty, real love, and honesty…. Yet each year, I collect more and more evidence that these qualities are scarce in my world. I could be a good 17th century poet. But when I open my eyes, there’s no Romeo and Juliet, a romantic novel to be written with a happy ending (unless it’s his hj), neither do I observe knights in shining armor around me, and so I can’t be more bewildered when I finally see the guy for who he is. Warts and all. Why couldn’t I see that right away? I’m stunned at the realit

While cuddling my borrowed cat and looking up at a framed picture of Marylin Monroe on the wall, it occurred to me that she was 36 when she committed suicide. Still very beautiful, famous, a sex symbol lusted by many...  I'm more inclined to a theory that they could have poisoned her and then staged it as a supposed overdose; honestly, nobody will ever know. (They lie to us about so many other things on a daily basis.) She would have been 61 today. Her life as an erotic muse, hanging out with powerful men, yet most likely sleeping alone every night, being childless, a movie star that had to live up to a certain role even in her private life.... it sure must have been tough. Some of her quotes and her idolization of death hint at melancholy and possibly mental health issues... so yes, suicide wouldn't have come as such a surprise.  I once read a book, The Seven Husbands of Emily Hugo, and I realized that all those Hollywood marriages and other 'pairings' were fake as wel