MSI Press Blog

  In a world increasingly eager to transcend gender norms, the concepts of masculine and feminine energies offer a symbolic vocabulary for understanding how we move through life—not who we are, but how we express. These energies aren't tethered to biology; they’re archetypal currents that shape our decisions, relationships, and inner landscapes. 🧭 What Are These Energies, Really? Masculine Energy  thrives in structure, logic, and forward motion. It’s the spear-point of action, goal-setting, and protection. Feminine Energy  embraces flow, intuition, and connection. It’s the chalice of empathy, creativity, and receptivity. Both exist in everyone. The balance between the two isn’t about neutrality—it’s about harmony. 🪷 In Leadership and Work Masculine energy in leadership says,  "Here's the goal; let’s get there efficiently." Feminine energy says,  "How is everyone feeling as we journey toward that goal?" You need both to lead well. Strategy without compassio...

  Every once in a while, a book comes along that isn’t splashed across every headline — but quietly shines with rare insight, lasting impact, and the power to stay with you long after the last page. We call these  book jewels . Each month, we spotlight one remarkable publication—a book that deserves far more attention than it gets. Through short, punchy reviews (each just a 1–2 minute read), we share what makes this month's jewel worth your time. You’ll hear from reviewers whose voices matter — people whose words are thoughtful, sharp, and well worth listening to. In just a few minutes, you might discover more wisdom, beauty, and brilliance than you find in an hour elsewhere. We'll leave it to you to decide — but we think you'll agree: some treasures are too good to keep hidden. This month's book jewel is  Lessons of Labor: One Woman's Self-Discovery through Childbirth and Motherhood   by Julia Aziz. Book Description What if labor—raw, painful, and unpredictable—was...

  Precerpt from Raising God’s Rainbow Makers (Mahlou) There was a gate agent. She called for staff. Once, twice—again. But no one came. The wheelchair sat waiting like a forgotten promise. Time ticked down. Our connection was slipping away. I pushed for her to let me push the chair, but that was against policy (likely liability concerns). I explained: Doah couldn’t walk the distance between gates although I think no explanation was necessary. She could see that he physically wouldn’t make it. He’s 4'7", with a short stride and a very, very, very narrow trachea. He tuckers out easily. We never plan on walking unless the gates are side by side. These were a quarter mile apart. She called again, checking her watch. Nada, nothing, no help. Finally, she nodded, “Okay. You can push.” With very little time left to make our next leg, I loaded my carryon onto Doah’s lap, strapped his bag to the back of the chair, and took the handles like a woman on a mission. We flew. Not just mo...