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Humans featured post, a Humans Media favorite.
What is the "Dark Night of the Soul"?
“The “Dark Night of the Soul”” is an expression frequently used to describe a deep spiritual transformation where your focus starts to shift from ego to soul. For many, this is considered the beginning of their ascension to a higher realm of being and becoming closer to the Divine. It is also known as the Descension before the Ascension. Even though the word implies going back, i.e., descending, this really is a process of moving forward in your spiritual development.
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warrior3 years ago in Humans
From Baking to Changing the Face of The Broken Music Industry
Well, you get the nickname, ‘The Baker’, and note the inverted quotations because you also flip the music industry like a pineapple upside-down cake. This is Carl Hitchborn’s journey in a nutshell. He’s a baker, turned innovator, turned music industry pro. And it all started when Carl realized, “no one in the music industry knows what they are doing.”
By Victoria Kennedy3 years ago in Humans
Tattoo as a Ceremony
Travelling on a flat plane can be disorientating, but travelling across a globe even more confusing, wouldn't you think? Anyhow, this is not the debate, the monologue here is about an argument I constantly and internally had when my dear birth mother commented to her margaritanese girlfriends, when I was at times invited to their Ubuntu inspired meet-ups, or community money-pool gatherings (I don't know how else to translate them from Indonesian), that -as proud a mother as she is, to her I am an attention-seeker. Although that is true (was mostly true at the time), a tattoo to me now is more than transforming my body into a canvas, rather, it is a ceremony.
By Onyx Tikal Sermet3 years ago in Humans
The Second, First Date
I was wearing my white dress, with the little pink flowers on it and puffy sleeves as I stood in the restroom at Charlie’s Bar and Grill, observing myself for the tenth time since getting ready. My date would be arriving in 15 minutes, so I wanted to make sure I looked perfect one last time. Touching my scar below my left eye, I wondered if I put enough makeup on to cover up the flaw. ‘Would he notice?’ Taking a deep breath, I gathered my new white Coach clutch off of the counter next to me. “You got this,” I whispered.
By Theodore Dembowski3 years ago in Humans
That Looks Like Me
I remember the first time I met Ty Allan Jackson and believe I always will. Please trust me when I say, you will never see a more bright and genuine smile. It was Third Thursday, a street fair in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, where local entrepreneurs set up booths to publicize and sell products. It’s the kind of event where one might evade eye contact with vendors in order to avoid high pressure or awkward interactions.
By Leah Parker3 years ago in Humans
Mute Words
Maya Angelou, wrote seven autobiographies as a civil rights advocate alongside Martin Luther King, and was awarded the highest civilian honor by Barack Obama. For myself, Maya Angelou is a relatable heroine, whose courage and words raised me up when I was pushed down.
By Honey Rachelle Graham 3 years ago in Humans
"Why I Dressed Like a Mad Man and Paraded the Streets," Nigerian Student Explains.
These pictures are insane! Do you ever just scroll through Instagram or Twitter or Facebook and get stunned by a picture? Like maybe you scroll past something and you’re like, “Wait oh! What was that?”
By Jide Okonjo3 years ago in Humans
The Pleasure Principle
How pleasure teaches us. In 1986 Meryl Streep won the Oscar for Best Actress for her role in Out Of Africa. A stunningly beautiful film that won several additional Oscars and told the true story of Karen Blixen, a Danish Baroness who has a passionate love affair with Denys, played by Robert Redford, whilst living in Kenya.
By Charles Leon3 years ago in Humans
The Cocktail Tables and a Little Game
I got out of the car, ready to make my way in to the Bradsford Oxen Club. It was my first time here, but for someone like me, it wasn't going to be my last. You may not know my real name, but to the people at the Bradsford Oxen Club tonight, my name is Miss Sophia Valencia Woodson.
By Denise Elnajjar3 years ago in Humans
The Library
Emily left the lawyer's office mildly perplexed. When she needed something to clear her thoughts, coffee was usually in order. She crunched across the snow-covered parking lot toward the café on the other side. At the Will reading months ago, Mr. Hunt, her grandmother’s solicitor, had explained that she had given Emily the house, and everything in it. There had been a stack of papers to sign, and a small pale pink envelope holding a notecard made of incredibly soft, heavy paper. “I love you so much. You already have everything you need inside the house,” it read in her grandmother’s thin swirly writing. The house. Most of her best memories had been in her Nonna’s house. Either in the kitchen baking one of her delicious floral pastries, in the library looking at her books and maps, or daydreaming about the strange art and masks from far-away places.
By Sunday Ann3 years ago in Humans