Religious Rights

Cannot say I am a big fan of John Boehner but what if Ted Cruz actually took what he said about being Lucifer in the flesh to HEART and felt a little bit of remorse for all of the hurt and harm he has caused others over the years with his hatred and discriminatory words and actions and THEN actually REPENTED from the OLD WAYS and became NEW.
will likely never happen that he would follow Mother Theresa’s advice, “On the day I discovered I had a Hitler inside me, I decided to turn around and do good.” After all, Mother Theresa was a good Christian woman dressed up in an old Indian female body, heavens to betsy, forbid me from saying this but right there that would certainly disqualify her from anything good or godly according to Ted Cruz and his ilk, right.
and further to his dismay would be that
“she spent her life opposing the only known cure for poverty, which is the empowerment of women and the emancipation of them from a livestock version of compulsory reproduction.”
― Christopher Hitchens
an exorcism, hmmm….
never mind, Ted Cruz, keep on being Lucifer in the flesh along with your cohort in sin, Carly Fiorina. Great pick for VP of  your fantasy presidential win.
There must be a special place for all of those women who tell lie after lie after lie, all in the name of what exactly ? oh yeah, depriving poor women from health care. Great cause there, Carly. And Carly, you ain’t no Carly Simon, either. “You’re so lame, you probably think…” 
so just a word here about the lie of fetal personhood
“a fertilized egg is a fertilized egg—no less, no more.”
and the real origins of the anti-abortion and discrimination against gay folks stuff
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Smile Harriet smile

I thought it was just me, that people were always telling me to smile. You have such a pretty face, you should smile more. What’s wrong with you, why don’t you  smile or how about Would it kill you to smile just a little. I guess so then the whole world can smile, because when you’re smiling, the whole world smiles with you, right.

Girls and women are constantly being told to smile usually by men. And we are also supposed to be seen but not heard. Like children. We are supposed to fulfill our roles as decorations, eye candy, T and A, trophies and / or pretty little girls / women. Stay in the background looking good and for God’s sake SMILE.

It was good to find out that I am not alone, but pathetic are the responses to women who are important public figures.


Do not want to get into all of the racist rhetoric that came after it was announced that Harriet Tubman, who saved slaves lives by coordinating the Underground Railroad, is going to replace Andrew Jackson on the twenty dollar bill. But the sexist nonsense is just too ridiculous. Think we all need a laugh. I know I do.  And I BET Harriet IS smiling now.


“Apparently women can’t ever escape commentary on their facial expressions — even when they’ve been dead for more than a century.”

…Many compared the request for a more cheerful photo of Tubman to the annoying trend of men telling women to smile more.







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Men talk too much

Rebeccaa Solnitt, author and writer from San Francisco, coined the phrase mansplaining when she wrote about how men always seemed to be explaining things to her. She gives examples in articles and her book such as how a boorish man at a party who went on and on about this book refusing or not even hearing her and another woman when they told him that he was telling her about her own book. She had written the book that he was mansplaining . He did not believe them.

Now an Australian woman, Julia Baird talks about men and their endless monologues.

How to Explain Mansplaning


I think she was being much too polite about men mansplaining

Here is what i would have said, and yes, I know the title is wrong and I will likely be accused to being sexist for pointing out these society realities. Or  they will call me a bitch. Maybe you are just being too sensitive, dear.  Calm down. Smile. That’s a good boy.

Boy men, Peter Pan types, aka mama’s boys, you know those insecure little bullies in big boy pants, also known as a vocal minority of politicians, political leaders and business types, CEO’s, etc. just love to complain ad finitum ad nauseum  forcing us to listen to their opinions about women talking too much. Some do it more profusely online.  Insert foot into mouth, guys. How ironic.

There was even a song by Frankie Ford about how women talk too much back in 1960, “you talk about people, you can make me scream, you just talk too much.” Or they make jokes about women talking too much that are not really funny but expect everyone to laugh because of their male privilege.


You talk too much, you worry me to death

You talk too much, you even worry my pet

You just talk, you talk too much

You talk about people that you don’t know

You talk about people wherever you go

You just talk, you talk too much

You talk about people that you’ve never seen

You talk about people, you can make me scream

You just talk, you talk too much


Then there are the comments made when women dare to raise their voices, especially if and when they are powerful women in positions of leadership and authority that are breaking new ground, i.e., hillary clinton. how dare she think she can become president, you know. they comments about her voice. a woman’s voice is too loud, raucous, too soft, or too ahem too feminine for us to dare speak to people in public.

When we have the audacity to STAND UP for ourselves, our bodies, our health care, the voluminous sexual assaults men perpetrate upon women, well, then, we are told that men molest little boys or not all men assault women. Doctors, husbands, even rapists know better, pat pat on the head, don’t you worry your pretty little head about such things, we’ve got it covered, dear. And, oh by the way, it’s all your own fault if you dress, go to parties, and / or heaven forbid, go out in public and work. Equal pay for equal work, daycare, and birth control. You feminazi murderer of babies, you.

#‎EqualPay isn’t just an issue for working women – the gender pay gap extends into retirement. Women live longer and have less in retirement savings — and they have to get by on Social Security benefits that are considerably smaller than men’s.

Read more about the pay gap and Social Security at: #‎EqualPayDay

They’ve called reporting statutory rape “whiny,” claimed sexual assault victims have a “coveted status,” said the sexual assault epidemic is “not happening,” blamed feminism for encouraging sexual assault, and said attempts to curb sexual assault constitute “a war happening on boys.” #‎SexualAssaultAwarenessMonth

‘At its core, the movement cares more about the fruitless attempt to stop people from having sex than actually reducing the number of abortions.

‘Time to read this VERY important op-Ed in the New York Times by Delaware Governor Jack Markell titled “What States Can Do on Birth Control.”

if men breastfed babies


There is nothing to talk about here, either. Harriet Tubman being put on the twenty dollar bill brought out a bunch of misogynist and racist talk by Ben Carson who noted that she should be put on a two dollar bill that no one uses anymore, lots of debunked nonsense about white slaves, and criticisms about why not an important man.

Then there has been all of those pesky bathroom bills sold as protecting little women and children. Bills written by men who say that they want to protect and keep women and children from boogey men that do not exist except in the minds of homophobic bigots.   These bills discriminate against already much maligned and abused transgendered people. And were signed hastily to counteract a bill in Charlotte, North Carolina. The city passed an ordinance to ALLOW transgender folks to use the bathroom of their choice. The state legislature threatened them and then passed the law.

But hey, gay men dare to flaunt their sexuality and pride. They are much too feminine for real macho men’s taste. You know, those macho men who secretly want to sleep with other men and/or molest little boys. And for a man to want to be a woman, what is wrong with them. We don’t want them peeing in our rest rooms like normal folks.  And some blame it all on God or Jesus.

Bathroom bills: yet another attempt to use women as a shield for discrimination

If Jesus were to weigh in on this and other issues online and/or a public figure today, he likely would be labeled a fag, pansy, and/or libtard for all of his feminist and pacifist rhetoric. Plus, all of that touchy feely love thy neighbor stuff. And all of that talk about helping the poor, the widows and little children. He clearly encouraged people to feel entitled and / or supported their being dependent upon the government for clean air, water, food and shelter, not to mention livable wages. An outrage. Not a real man like Donald Trump.

Now, there are some men we would lot listen to, who wax on eloquently…

“Changing someone’s sexual orientation is simply not your business.

It’s out of your jurisdiction.

It’s way above your pay grade.

It’s far beyond your control.

“Stop spending so much time and energy trying to make gay people “not gay”—it isn’t going to happen.

Instead, try spending that time and energy, making:

hungry people not hungry,

hurting people not hurt,

lonely people not alone,

victimized people not victimized,

invisible people feel seen.

bullied people feel protected.

grieving people feel comforted.

“There are hopeless situations that you can step into, blessings you can provide, people you can care for, paths you can beautifully alter, healing you can accomplish, prayers you can answer, wounds you can mend, kindnesses you can extend—right now.

“The question is, do you really want any of that or are you married to this ultimately fruitless cause that is doing nothing real but damage?

The clock is ticking.

The sun is fading.

Time is wasting.

People are waiting.

Christian, do something worthy.”

“I know that the loudest voices often carry the greatest weight, and right now those voices speaking for my faith tradition are heavy on acrimony and painfully short on compassion. Those voices reek of bigotry and entitlement and manufactured martyrdom. They speak with cruelty and malice and malevolence—but they do not speak for me.

I absolutely don’t believe they speak for Jesus either.” 

Blasted are the Peacemakers…/04/20/blasted-are-the-peacemak…/…

You have been blabbering on for millennia expressing your opinions and making them into cultural norms, policies and laws. And just look where it has gotten us. Endless wars. You wrote the Bible, Old and New Testament. Ignored the Goddess and blamed Eve for Original Sin.

Would Fewer People Get Killed if More Police Officers Were Women? Men are 8x more likely to use excessive force

All your rhetoric boils down to is you blaming and punishing everyone, especially women, poor people and girly boys.

Now, Just shut up, man. Close your mouth, dude. And for God’s sake, She really wants you to THINK before you speak. Men and boys should be seen but not heard. It is our turn to speak now.


Posted in #yesallwomen, Christian right, GOP politics, Uncategorized, women's choice | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

waiting for a sign

It is true. I am waiting for a sign. I know it is too early. It has just been a week after all. And I could have, should have gone to see her before she passed. But I’d convinced myself that she was going to get better. And I did not want to see her sick. I hoped and prayed and yet, somehow in the recesses I knew. She was going, going, gone.

To me, she was always the very dictionary or encyclopedia meaning of healthy. Alive. Laughing. Joyful. I could not bring myself to imagine her deathly ill, a skeleton, in a hospital room. That smell of sickness, drugs, chemicals and lingering odors of those who have passed hanging around the hallways.

I could not bear it. I wanted to keep her memory alive and fresh and juicy with life. And not ruin it with the ugliness of sickness.

Of course, when my father passed, i knew it was time for his demise, too. And I had convinced myself that he was still with us even when i went to see him early that morning. I had prayed for him all night. And was sure that he would be there in the morning. A healing miracle would happen.

When i went back to his bedroom though, one look at his blue tinged face, i realized that the father that i knew and loved was gone. He was no longer in that body. His spirit and soul or essence had left the building.

A few years later, or maybe a few months, it is a blur, we visited a temple in India, near Calcutta. And Johannes, who is also now no longer on this earthly plane, insisted that we watch the holy men’s ritual of killing the goats. I am squeamish and did not want to watch as they swung their axes. So i turned away at that moment.

What struck me afterwards was the head of the goats on the fence. They were pieces of meat, ripe with the stillness and emptiness of death. No longer alive. They reminded me of how my father looked when he was no longer there. I wept at the memory. And deeply felt the loss.

How do you go on without someone so crucial and important to your life? The person who introduced you to your Spirituality, Your Higher Self, God, Goddess, All That is ? You want to call them up and talk to them on the phone. A song, a smell, or a word brings back a memory of how you held hands and walked around the neighborhood or the beach.

With Rannette, how she called me Pretty Lady, got me to do things I had no idea that I could do. How she laughed that amazingly melodiously lyrical sound. It was music like a river flowing out of her mouth and throat. And those eyes filled with the most love I’ve ever known from any human being.



Even when she told me harsh truths. And when I ran away and did not want to listen to her, i knew deep in my soul that she loved me. It was palpable and throbbed like a beating heart. She once gave me a double rainbow for my birthday.

How do you go on in life knowing that you cannot talk to her the same way again. Oh yes, I have had numerous encounters with those who have passed. Furry ones, my cat Abundance came to me in a dream purring on my belly as he did in life. My dad brought me an umbrella as a symbol of safety and security and protection at a very difficult time in my life.


If my Aunt Leona could muster calling my name out loud, audible as I was coming home from work, a couple of weeks after she passed, then surely Rannette, masterful magician that she is, can conjure up a miracle or two or three from the beyond.

Right before she passed, i had a dream where i kissed Rannette on the cheek. I’d never have the audacity to do that in real life. But then, she kept hugging me the last time that I saw her on my birthday. She was not that kind of touchy feely person. At least not with me. And yet, that night, she drew me near to her over and over again. And i felt her in my heart, experienced her big heart energy flowing into mine in a way that is hard to explain. I’ve never felt the kind of love she gave to me so freely.

I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her laughter, and felt it whenever she spoke. No matter what she said. There were a few times that were special, intimate, when she let me sleep beside her. For comfort. As one does for a child who is afraid of the dark. One night before I was to fly home to the USA from Germany. She knew how much I was afraid of flying.

When I met her, I was a terrified 25 year old who had a mentally ill mother who rejected and abused me. I had aunts who loved me, yes. And it was not the same, not even on the same planet, in the depth, breadth, and scope of Rannette’s powerful heart beating madly out of your chest love.

She just knew what to say, how to say it and how to look at me with those wisdom filled blue green gray eyes that touched the core, the essence of who i am. Every time. She just knew. And she sprinkled her love upon me like confetti. Whenever i needed a boost. She sent me light and healing energy. And i felt instantly surrounded by her presence.

No one had ever talked to me the way she did. No one ever loved me like she did. No one else called me Pretty Lady. No one else told me that I was too magical. No one else filled me up buoyant with hope and inspiration until i was floating up up and away on clouds dreaming BIG dreams.

One of my visions and dreams was to someday live at or on the beach. I did a meditation about it, casting the dream out to the earth, wind, water, and fire. I forgot about this and a few years later, as I was driving along the coast to my new home on Bodega Bay where i would live for a year, across from the beach, in someone else’s home, i remembered that meditation.

She knew how to tell me things that i did not want to hear. One coaching session, she played Helen Palmer’s Enneagram tape of the Number Four (my type). And she kept stopping the tape and sharing with me how uproariously she giggled when she heard that or that or that. It described me in such a way that she wise woman, sage and mentor, had never imagined in her guts. She was truly rolling on the floor laughing.

And one poignant moment, she looked me directly into my eyes, her eyes glistening with tears, she apologized to me. She was extremely sorry for something private that I will not say. No one has ever apologized to me like that.

Rannette Nicholas loved people and places and things in a way that was unique and special to each person. She knew you. She looked right into your heart and soul and scooped up your wildest dreams. And encouraged you to go for them.

Not long after i met her in 1975, she gave me an assignment. She used to give everyone such tasks. Impossible crazy things to do. Mine was to work for her for a week or ten days. Without pay. We called it assisting. And she guaranteed me that at the end of the time, i would have a job. A job that would pay me cash, money, a paycheck.

How could that be i wondered at the time. We discussed it. Mostly, i balked and she laughed to discourage my fears. What did i have to lose? I had no job and no prospects either. I no longer wanted to be a secretary. I had walked away from the safety and security of working for the City of Los Angeles. I wanted to find my life’s work. And I had worked for a week or two for an abortion clinic. That was not it. And i had tried this and that. And now, i was confronted with the idea of working with this mad in a wonderful way woman without pay. Crazy, huh.

Still, I decided to go for it. And it was the most fun i had ever had working. She gave me the task of being in charge of the tape recorder of her first Successful Living weekend workshop, a two day event. I sat captivated at the back of the room, watching how the participants were transformed by the seemingly simple communication exercises and silly jumping jacks and other antics.

“The Duke of Cumberland. He had 10,000 men. He marched them up to the top of the hill and he marched them down again. And when they were UP they were UP (Everyone stood up). And when they were DOWN they were DOWN (everyone sat down). And when they were only Halfway UP, they were neither Up nor Down.” (calisthentics of being half way up and down).

One man looked like a bull dog. He had an extremely angry face. A mad face. And by the end of that weekend, his face had softened and he looked radiant, like a newborn infant.

At the time, i had been in therapy but i had never experienced such results and joy in group or individual therapy. I knew by the end of that weekend, that THIS was my Life’s Work. That I wanted to work with this woman forever. At the end of my assignment, she actually offered me a job as her secretary. Whether she had intended to do that when she gave me the assignment, i do not know. We never discussed it. But I got paid a small stipend. And she had me writing for her company newspaper, taught me how to lead seminars and workshops, and eventually had me travel around the world, go to John Robert Powers modeling school, complete college (finally), co-write seminars and workshops, do public relations for her businesses, do coaching and so much more. For 40 years of my life.

She taught us how to Direct Our Intention and utilized several exercises that I shared with her in the experience (giving me full credit). One was called the Nametag Exchange. It was based upon a powerful exercise I had done in therapy, when my therapist had taken on my mannerisms and acted like me, saying the things I would say. During the experience, people would act out the other person’s pretend self. The one that they showed to the world. Not their Real Self. And people were astonished, wept, and their lives were changed just by being seen in such a way. No one before in their lives had ever mimicked them. Not in a mean way. But in a way that they could see how their Fake Self did not serve them. They were SEEN. No longer invisible. And the gig was UP.

And every week, month and year, when I write down and collage my Intentions, I will think of how Rannette encouraged and supported me to get what I want, my preferences and dreams. And sometimes beyond what I wanted for myself or could even possibly imagine. She wanted more for me at times than I did for myself.

One time, i wrote out a bunch of travel and other dreams that i wanted to embark upon. I wrote and put the papers away. A year or two later, i found the papers and realized that they had all come true. I had wanted to travel on the east coast. I was living in Florida at the time, completing college. And i had decided during one hiatus that i would travel by train and escape the heat. I changed my itinerary numerous times. Too many times. And yet, when I reviewed what i had written a few years later, I had visited the places that I had wrote about and in the exact order i wrote about them. Weird, huh. But that was how magical it was to be around Rannette and do the things she suggested.

And now, i will no longer lead seminars and workshops with Rannette on this earthly plane again. it was all that i had hoped for the last many years.  The rebirth of Earthplay, the organization she founded, renamed and offered her workshops and seminars, the SLS experience, through. Her workshops became popular and flourished in Germany and Los Angeles. In 1975, she had christened her business the Daniels Institute of Successful Living, paying homage to her father, Dr. Ranald Daniels, who had taught her all about seminars from the time she was 4 years old.

Ranald had one of the largest motivation institutes in Southern California in the 1950’s. He also was a friend of Ernest Holmes, founder of the Church of Religious Science, and in the 1950’s they, and a couple others, had weekly luncheon get togethers. He also did a radio show and interviewed folks like Think and Grow Rich author Napoleon Hill and Dale Carnegie.

Rannette created her own creative and power filled, life changing, and evolving of consciousness work: the experience and The Completion Process™.  The Completion Process™ is a complex integration, an intricate, healing, and empowering method of transformation and transcendence.

She trained me and others to become Experience Leaders and we designed and led workshops and seminars such as The Family Experience, The Money Experience, and The Process, as well as dozens of seminars and series such as Freedom Eating, Relationship Realities, and one day and weekend workshops such as Assertiveness and Anger.

Later, in the 1980’s, Rannette and her husband Dafydd, founded OIM (Obedience Intercessory Ministry), an educational, interfaith, interdenominational, international, intercessory prayer ministry. Numerous people from different countries (America, England, France, Germany, Israel and others) traveled around the world and participated in various projects such as The Holocaust Journey and the India / Thailand / Bangladesh project.

The Holocaust Journey:  In March and April, 1986, over a six week period, eleven members of OIM, including  two German families, two Jewish women, and Dietrich courageously rented a VW bus and visited 21 Concentration Camps, amongst them:

Dachau, Hamburg, Buchenwald, Ravensbrueck, Auschwitz, Birkenau, Treblinka, Majdanek, Lublin, Belsec, Sobibor.

They worked with healing and forgiveness energies and forces, and interceded for the healing and freeing of the land, for the souls, for the shocking inhumanity to all concerned.

During the years, 1983 to 1990 it was a time of Service and Exploring the complexities and wonders of today’s religious institutions.  As we traveled from church and temple to mosque, community to community, throughout North America, Europe, the Middle East including Israel and Egypt, and on around the world, we spread hope, understanding, kindness, tolerance, and wisdom.

In 1990, Rannette designed and developed the Forgiveness, Prayer, and Praise Workshop which was given in churches of many denominations in over 30 cities in North America. We even gave one in Bangkok, Thailand. Johannes did not want to do it. But he said he would pray about it and he did. The next day he registered an entire church and their pastor for it.

The foundation of OIM, intercession is respect for each individual and their chosen and personal relationship to the Divine, however, whatever that is or isn’t.  Whatever name each gives it.

To pray and meditate for the highest and greatest good of a person, a family, a church/temple/mosque, a community, a nation, and the world. With harm to none.

Individually and collectively, we explored The Crisis of Dignity.  The Crisis of Character.  The Crisis of Vision.  The Crisis of Vitality.

Often those who participated with OIM stopped, paused, to not be drawn into the drama, the tragedy, the situation, but to seek a higher ground for a pressing or vital issue of the times, be it health, a passing, war, abuse, a weather or earth issue such as the Berlin Wall coming down peacefully in 1989;  the June, 1991 Mount Pinatubo eruption in the Philippines; the August, 1991 coup in the USSR that ended with virtually no bloodshed; the AIDS crisis; peace in the Middle East; the 9/11 Twin Towers attack;  the undeclared war in Iraq; the Tsunami of 2004; Hurricane Katrina in 2005; the revolt in Burma in 2007.

Rannette Eva Nicholas met with gurus, best selling authors and zen masters around the world and was committed to healing her own internal wounds. She told me once that whenever she was shown intuitively by her guides something most people would consider awful, horrible, sinful or dark, she would fill with bubbling excitement because she would have the opportunity to heal whatever she was shown. When most people are confronted by their dark side often called the Shadow in metaphysical circles, they cringe, are filled with guilt, dread, shame or regret but not Rannette. She would Go For It. And dig deeper and deeper and process internally until she felt cleansed and the healing was complete. Even if it took years to do.

The gusto and zeal to which she devoted herself to the Light was epic. I could not imagine another human being who was more committed to healing herself and supporting others to heal themselves. Her intention was to Serve Herself and Others.

And indeed she did, for all of the time she lived here on earth.

So tell me, Rannette, how am I supposed to Live without you?  Set free of the pain and suffering of this lifetime, I know you are soaring to new heights over there. And i long to feel your wings surrounding me again. I imagine you will send me a sign or two eventually. Am trying to be patient and i want to scream out. Hurry Hurry Hurry.

Not to be greedy, I know that you have other loved ones ahead of me to serve, your husband and children, grandchildren and dear ones i know and those i do not. Still, i know i have a place in there somewhere, where you and i can walk the beach, marvel at rainbows and hug trees together. Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

“Life is Eternal, Love is Immortal and Death is Only a Horizon,” Carly Simon.

Please feel free to share, donate, pray and/or support her family (link below), thanks.

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Birth of a New Year

Well, it has been an incredibly challenging year, to say the least.


And yesterday, I found out that this woman I’ve known for 40 years, who loved me relentlessly, who supported me even when I did not know or consciously want her support, who spoke truth no matter what, passed on the day after Christmas.  It snowed in Las Vegas on Christmas day and the day afterwards.


I was in Mesquite, NV and came to Vegas a few days ago. Drove to Laughlin, NV and Needles, CA yesterday.


Had a beautiful dream with Rannette Nicholas the other night. Now, I know, that we were saying goodbye to one another. I was in denial that she was passing on. And yet, I have been flooded with memories of her. Mingled with sadness and grief.  Happy that she is free of the pain and suffering and do not know how I will go on without her. And yet… I also want to honor her, pay tribute to her and all that she gave to me.


Because of Rannette Nicholas, I am a published writer, editor and PR person. She believed in me, valued me, and uplifted me and always supported my highest good in ways that sometimes I appreciated and other times I had difficulty with. She spoke her truth whether people liked it or not. And because of her I got to travel around the world and lead seminars and workshops (that she taught me how to do). She introduced me to my spirituality, my Higher Self, Lazaris, God, Goddess, All That Is, and alternative therapies, supplements and health products that changed my life and relieved 98% of my symptoms of fibromyalgia. Many things that I never would have even considered doing (going to John Roberts Powers modeling school, for instance) I did in my life because of Rannette Nicholas. She was the Light of My Life, the wind beneath my wings, and so much more. Her family can use a lot of prayers, support and Light. Thank you.

Her husband of 30 years needs all of the light, prayers and support you can muster.  Please share, donate, do what you can please.  Here is his request for support with medical and funeral expenses.  May you all be blessed. Thank you.



Keep singing this song by Carly Simon (Life is Eternal, Love is Immortal, Death is only a Horizon):



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A fresh start, a new beginning

Well, folks I have not written for a long time.

And now, I am going to restart this blog with new info. I do hope you will read and enjoy it.

When I first met Rannette Eva Daniels Nicholas, in 1975, her hair was a golden color, it was long and flowing and a bit curly. But what I remember most is her eyes and laughter. Her eyes held a depth of wisdom and aliveness I had never seen nor known  before. She looked right into my soul with her gaze. And her laughter was at once lyrical, melodious and joyful. A hearty blend of  happiness and sauciness. I was entranced. Whatever her secret to living life was, I wanted to learn it and be a part of whatever she was doing.

At the time, she was leading men’s and women’s groups out of her duplex on Croft in West Hollywood. Later, she established the Daniels Institute of Successful Living, which became known as The Institute in Beverly Hills on Wilshire Boulevard.

After another incarnation, it became known as Earthplay. A few years later, we brainstormed that name in Munich, Germany. Because what Rannette’s work and teachings were always about living life with joy, playing on the earth. Having fun and creating success. Going for your dreams. And Be Do Having what you want while being a good, kind, professional person with honesty, integrity and consideration for other people. Serving others while serving yourself. But I digress.


I had wanted to find an ongoing Radical Feminist therapy group. And I called the Woman’s Building and asked for a referral. As a joke, this woman, Nancy, referred me to Rannette. What Rannette was doing, the men’s and women’s groups, were radical. And she considered herself a feminist. Nancy pranked me into thinking that I was going to a group like the one I had been participating in. But it was not at all the same.

My first inkling that this was going to be a very different experience was when a man answered the telephone. Now, I am heterosexual aka straight. But some of the radical feminists were gay and a minority of them considered themselves separatists who wanted to separate the genders. They wanted no part of men. I did not agree with that and yet, this new experience, even on the phone, seemed unusual. It was just plain odd for a man to answer the phone for a Radical Feminist therapy group!

John and I had a very strong connection on the phone. He invited me to an Open House where I could get to meet the woman running the groups and to see firsthand what they were doing. Sounded good to me.

Still, somewhat puzzled, I sat outside the address for a few minutes after seeing an older man going into the door of the place. What the heck was going on? Why were all of these men going to Radical Feminist meetings?  I tossed and turned the idea around in my brain and it did not compute. My shrink, however, had been supporting me to try new experiences. I finally decided to go inside because I could always leave if I did not like it.

Bravely, I knocked at the door and was greeted by the tall, dark and blue-eyed handsome man who I had spoken with on the phone. John was polite, charming and gracious and ushered me inside where I sat and watched a group of men and women share about their lives and experiences that week. The energy in the room was something that I had never encountered. I could not quite put my finger on it. But it was infectious. Everyone seemed happy. The women in the Radical Feminist group I had gone to were angry and / or depressed about how unfairly women were treated in the world. To say the least, this was nothing like that!

The women in this group seemed empowered. They were achieving successes in their personal and career lives. And they were enjoying whatever they were doing.


Amazed, I continued to observe until the group took a break and went into separate rooms. Men in one, women in another. John took me into another small room and led me through a very short guided visualization. It was very powerful and insightful. My therapy had been good and I thought successful, too. But this was something more. Something completely indefinably different and I wanted more. After discussing the benefits of the groups, a lady entered the room, who John introduced as the founder. Her name was Rannette Daniels (now it is Nicholas). Hungry, I asked questions and devoured her answers.

She says that they could not get me to leave. I was there for something like six hours. I just could not believe that this was real. That she was Authentic. True. I am, at heart, a jaded, skeptical, even cynical at times, New Yorker. And so I had to find the catch, right. What was really going on? Was I being scammed? But I could find nothing wrong. I found nothing other than pure love, compassion, empathy and joy. Love seemed to emanate from her very pores.

Soon, I knew that I had found what I had been looking for. My life’s work and then some. And for 40 years, I have found knowing, working and assisting Rannette Nicholas to be a joy, challenging, difficult, and more.  I have done things like lead seminars and workshops (the best time of my life!),  travel around the world for three years as part of OIM, an intercessory prayer ministry, in the late 1980’s, completed college, became (my dream) a published writer (newspaper reporter, editor and publicist), relieved 98% of my symptons of fibromyalgia and so much more.

Which brings me to the present time. This week, amidst my own precarious life situations, I found out that this woman who I have loved, who has encouraged and supported me and had my back for so many years is very ill and needs assistance. I was at once relieved to know what was going on and immensely saddened by the news.

And hopefully, there are people who know or knew Rannette and others that do not, Angels, who will be guided to assist her in overcoming this difficult time and obtaining the resources that she needs.

You can read more about what is going on here:


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Some Men think they own Women

Am working on an article and blog post about men who cannot take no for an answer. It is getting long and complicated. But will pare it down to size, trim it, work it so that it is readable here. Meanwhile, here are a few great bits and pieces to share.


Apparently, a husband put his wife’s reasons for saying no to sex (he says excuses) on an Excel Spread Sheet and then he pasted the list online. The wife was not pleased and responded. And it’s become a thing online with some men thinking that women owe them sex, that they are entitled to have sex whether a woman agrees or not, and so there is controversy unlimited. Another woman actually posted her husband’s reasons for not having sex with her online, too. It does work both ways but more far more men complain and feel entitled to women’s bodies than vice versa. Look at all of the bills that have been passed by the GOP trying to regular women’s reproductive systems because these guys are terrified of women having autonomy, power, freedom and sex. Next thing you know, these uppity women will want to be considered FULL human beings with all kinds of rights and stuff, like equal pay for equal work. And they will want to have babies or not have babies and do whatever they want to do. Imagine that….


“Some men still believe that owning a penis entitles them to unlimited sexy times.

“…Cases of domestic violence against women in the U.S. are alarmingly frequent, and perpetrators often exhibit a similar attitude of entitlement toward their partners. … 1 in 4 American women will face domestic abuse in their lifetime, and one-third of those cases involve marital rape.

“…Entitlement to women’s bodies is one peg in the cycle of abuse. Whether it’s the Santa Barbara shooter who went on a shooting spree to “punish” every girl who has “never been attracted” to him, or the insidious, so-called Pick Up Artists who proclaim that violence against women could be averted if men learned how to seduce women properly, the refrain is always the same: Men need and, more importantly, deserve sex, primarily because they are men. Women who are perceived as withholding, whether it’s toward their boyfriends, their husbands or guys they met once at a fraternity party, are labeled prudes and bitches. Women who allege they were forced, meanwhile, get blamed by judgesjournalists and politicians. “









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