What is Evolution?

“We began as a mineral.
We emerged into plant life, and into the animal state, and then into being human, and always we have forgotten our former states, except in early spring when we slightly recall being green again.
That’s how a young person turns towards a teacher.
That’s how a baby leans toward the breast, without knowing the secret of its desire, yet turning instinctively.
Humankind is being led along an evolving course, through the migration of intelligences, and though we seem to be sleeping, there is an inner wakefulness that directs the dream, and that will eventually startle us back to the truth of who we are.”
— The Story of Evolution
Rumi, 13th Century


Mrs. vs Mistress

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
 By any other name would smell as sweet  

Shakespeare said it best. The words we used to describe the things of this world give them their meaning and substance. 

Which brings me to today's Matey topic. I grappled with making this a work of a fiction or a blog post and finally decided to save all fictional stories for my book:  "Matey Chronicles: A Mistress' Tale".

Yes, I'm still writing just not publishing publicly for copyright reasons. Nothing before its time. 

Alas I digress. Back to the topic at hand:

Wives call themselves Mrs. upon receiving their beloved marital band from their object of affection. An honorific title. Status defined. 

Mrs. originated as a contraction of the honorific Mistress, the feminine of Mister, or Master, which was originally applied to both married and unmarried women. The split into Mrs. for married women from Ms. and Miss began during the 17th century.

The evolution of woman's role and rank is ironic to say the least. A position of prominence sharing its title with its arch-nemesis.

The wife, the Mrs., the owner for the man is constantly at war with her counterpart, the Mistress. 
The charlatan who dares to separate her mans affections, a bothersome distraction. A source of ongoing contempt and dismay. The Mistress stands on the outskirts of marital bliss, blowing airs of disruption. A hurricane brewing on the high seas. 

If it wasn't for that simple dot, a mere abbreviation, both wifey and matey would be known by the exact same name. 

A play on words -- in a patriarchal world, women rarely get the last laugh. Trapped in the reality of choosing between being a wife or a mate, she relinquishes her fate readily to another. The owner of her heart. 

Her man, her lover, her Master.


belongs to noone but the Divine Creator of All Things. 

NadYa Dee 

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Our Deepest Fear by Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."