There are times in our lives when we are labelled certain things. In grade school, teasing and bullying is quite a serious offence in the eyes of a principal. Reprimand is forthcoming and reflection is required. But adults don't respond to the same set of rules, do we? It has becomes okay to scorn others without forethought as to their situation or events surrounding their actions. We are quick to judge and it seems easy to toss people into categories that suit our social organizational tendencies. We compare ourselves as parents, compare what we have, what we do, how we live. Now, is there any wonder that our children do the same? Listen to your children, you will hear yourself. Where we fail ourselves, we are failing them. Being 'good' is not subjective, depending on how others around you behave.
I am suddenly aware that I am just as much a hypocrite as the rest of you. We are all guilty at some point, at some time, of judging others without cause, without full knowledge of the circumstances. It is not for us to judge. It is not for us to give 'solutions' or even to 'correct' someone's thinking. That is God's place and His only. It is our place to foregive, to accept we are all different, to find ways to push each other up, not destroy our sense of worth.
I say to those that have the wonderful tendancy to make me feel belittled and always wrong, however subconscious those comments or glances may be, that I have a goal, after many years, to take a stand against the constant soul destroying negativity. Funny how negativity has fostered negativity...but that chain must be broken. I chose to break it. How you respond is your business. I forfiet my hold on your negative influences and seek out those who I know will only help my soul to grow and find happiness.
Now, this does not mean I give up on the people that have brought that negativity to the forefront of my life (all the while casting a spell to make me think it was all my doing, and claiming to be completely positive themselves...look in the mirror...listen to yourself speak). I simply am going to try my best to not let the unsupportive responses to so much I say get under my skin. No hard task for this elephant! I remember too much detail for my own good...but I have to start remembering more of the good and leaving out the bad.
Okay, this has become somewhat of a personal rant...but a healthy one at that. Sorting through my thoughts and feelings before responding I believe is a better start than to fight back. That's what my grade school principal would have told me. Now, it's high time we all took a close look at how we treat each other, how we relate and how we give ourselves the right to judge. Think twice, speak once. And remember who is listening...for you will certainly hear your words come back to haunt you sooner or later...right mom?
This is me, full out me.... Some of this is new; writing what has been placed in my mind's eye as I interpret the world around me. Some of the pieces are older, added because they still hold meaning (or new meaning) for me. All in all, they are my thoughts and I am, I hope, righting my life as I write....
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Rose
There was a young girl on the pier. Tiny and delicate, her long blonde hair was blowing to the side of her tear-stained face as she stared out to sea. Her thoughts were instense and almost audible as they rushed through her mind. It was as if the wind could speak to her.
Dan watched her and became connected to her intensity from his seat by the beach.
The girl took the sea air in and her shoulders lifted and then dropped with her exhaled breath. Her gaze turned upwards as if for answers and her eyes closed tightly as more tears escaped from each side of her face again.
Drawn to her, Dan approached with caution. He didn't know if she was alone by choice or design, but he yearned to reach out and take her hand. Though a stranger, something about her saddened his heart - her broken spirit poured onto the pier like waves. Intent on finding out more, he gently stepped forward enough so that she would see him there, a few feet away, but slightly ahead of her. He tried to look casually at the sea swells and take them in, but now his position was precarious - if she had seen him, she hadn't acknowledged his presence, so he was left wondering what the next move would be. He could no longer see her expression to see if conversation was welcome. He knew he had to do something so as to not look obvious, so he stepped back and quietly whispered, "Oh dear, I am sorry. I didn't realize you were upset. Are you alright?"
Realizing the absurdity of his words in the sound of his own voice, his heart leapt through his chest. In an instant he went from being drawn in by this sad stranger to wanting to flee as fast and as far as he could. But he stood his ground. He couldn't decide whether it was sheer fear or compassion that kept him there, but he waited what seemed an eternity for the girl to answer.
She turned to him slowly, trying to hide her look of surprise at the invasion of her world. She was too distraught to be angry with him and sighed as she saw the look of terror on his face. She knew he was genuine and was both relieved and comforted. "I will survive" she muttered as the back of her hand wiped at her cheeks. She attempted a weak smile to show her gratitude. He gave her the same weak smile back and offered his name;
"Hi, I'm Dan. I'm sorry for whatever it is that has made you so sad. This is too beautiful of a place to be sad in."
"Agreed. It is wondrous. I love it here. I have since I was a kid." She turned to look up to him fully; "I'm Rose."
And suddenly, with the ease of a relationship that has borne the test of time, they began to talk. They shared their love for the seaside and what had brought them there. They strolled the beach and chatted until the sun fell low in the western sky. Dan felt renewed from his afternoon with Rose and pleased with himself that he had gathered enough nerve to speak to her, for he would have lost so much if he had simply turned away. As he was wondering what the next step would be, he saw something incredible. It was a tiny soft pink rosebud just beginning to bloom at the edge of the beach where the wild grass was growing. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, he thought. He smiled and turned to Rose, "Wait here!" and ran to fetch the rose.
When he turned back, a proud and loving smile on his face, she was simply gone. The long beach was empty and the sun was setting over the horizon. There was nowhere she could have gone. Nowhere. Dan stared and searched, his eyes flying wildly over the sand and water. Then he stopped and looked down. What he saw next sent chills up and down his spine. The trail of footprints all across the beach - all the way as far as his eyes could reach - were single file. She had never really been there.
Racing back to his car, tears from both fear and frustration now stinging his face, he reached for his keys. As he ran, he fumbled with them and they fell to the ground. "Dammit!" he thought wildly. As he picked up his keys and reached for the car door he looked up to the pier again. He stopped just long enough to hear the wind talk to him. He swore he just about heard "Thank you" coming from the end of the pier somewhere, yet no one was there. A calmness washed over him and he even managed a smile. Rose, he thought. He took the rosebud he had plucked for her out of his pocket - now somewhat diminished in stature but just as beautiful and tossed it into the sea. "Take this with you" he said under his breath. Then he turned and headed home as the sun finally diappeared into the sea, leaving the pier in peaceful darkness.
Dan watched her and became connected to her intensity from his seat by the beach.
The girl took the sea air in and her shoulders lifted and then dropped with her exhaled breath. Her gaze turned upwards as if for answers and her eyes closed tightly as more tears escaped from each side of her face again.
Drawn to her, Dan approached with caution. He didn't know if she was alone by choice or design, but he yearned to reach out and take her hand. Though a stranger, something about her saddened his heart - her broken spirit poured onto the pier like waves. Intent on finding out more, he gently stepped forward enough so that she would see him there, a few feet away, but slightly ahead of her. He tried to look casually at the sea swells and take them in, but now his position was precarious - if she had seen him, she hadn't acknowledged his presence, so he was left wondering what the next move would be. He could no longer see her expression to see if conversation was welcome. He knew he had to do something so as to not look obvious, so he stepped back and quietly whispered, "Oh dear, I am sorry. I didn't realize you were upset. Are you alright?"
Realizing the absurdity of his words in the sound of his own voice, his heart leapt through his chest. In an instant he went from being drawn in by this sad stranger to wanting to flee as fast and as far as he could. But he stood his ground. He couldn't decide whether it was sheer fear or compassion that kept him there, but he waited what seemed an eternity for the girl to answer.
She turned to him slowly, trying to hide her look of surprise at the invasion of her world. She was too distraught to be angry with him and sighed as she saw the look of terror on his face. She knew he was genuine and was both relieved and comforted. "I will survive" she muttered as the back of her hand wiped at her cheeks. She attempted a weak smile to show her gratitude. He gave her the same weak smile back and offered his name;
"Hi, I'm Dan. I'm sorry for whatever it is that has made you so sad. This is too beautiful of a place to be sad in."
"Agreed. It is wondrous. I love it here. I have since I was a kid." She turned to look up to him fully; "I'm Rose."
And suddenly, with the ease of a relationship that has borne the test of time, they began to talk. They shared their love for the seaside and what had brought them there. They strolled the beach and chatted until the sun fell low in the western sky. Dan felt renewed from his afternoon with Rose and pleased with himself that he had gathered enough nerve to speak to her, for he would have lost so much if he had simply turned away. As he was wondering what the next step would be, he saw something incredible. It was a tiny soft pink rosebud just beginning to bloom at the edge of the beach where the wild grass was growing. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, he thought. He smiled and turned to Rose, "Wait here!" and ran to fetch the rose.
When he turned back, a proud and loving smile on his face, she was simply gone. The long beach was empty and the sun was setting over the horizon. There was nowhere she could have gone. Nowhere. Dan stared and searched, his eyes flying wildly over the sand and water. Then he stopped and looked down. What he saw next sent chills up and down his spine. The trail of footprints all across the beach - all the way as far as his eyes could reach - were single file. She had never really been there.
Racing back to his car, tears from both fear and frustration now stinging his face, he reached for his keys. As he ran, he fumbled with them and they fell to the ground. "Dammit!" he thought wildly. As he picked up his keys and reached for the car door he looked up to the pier again. He stopped just long enough to hear the wind talk to him. He swore he just about heard "Thank you" coming from the end of the pier somewhere, yet no one was there. A calmness washed over him and he even managed a smile. Rose, he thought. He took the rosebud he had plucked for her out of his pocket - now somewhat diminished in stature but just as beautiful and tossed it into the sea. "Take this with you" he said under his breath. Then he turned and headed home as the sun finally diappeared into the sea, leaving the pier in peaceful darkness.
Release
Though I sit and wait, nothing seems to find it's way.
I know the words are there, just waiting to pounce,
Yet they sit, abated by the keyboard
That once was so inviting.
Come on...let go...
A writing plague,
After so much time away
Should not be my curse!
Silence. Nothingness.
Like the edge of the universe.
Inspiration fails me
Though I know it's in me.
These tired hands match my tired brain.
My heart aches to be in the game,
But my mind won't connect.
Ahhh, a spark of recognition begins...
I understand where the kink in the thought is!
Damned self-intrusion!!
I undermine myself once again....
I am stuck in a moment, an instant of regret...embarrassment...when something you should be doing properly goes awry because you aren't on your game. Admittedly, the first stage of the downfall is internal frustration and then avoidance. Somehow we bounce along, thinking that as long as it's only ourselves that know, we can live with our own shortfalls. However, as soon as someone acknowledges the err of our ways, the game changes. We become accountable. Embarrassed. Regretful.
So, I did something I regret...no, it wasn't evil or intentional or hurtful, but it was irresponsible. Period. Oh, and let's add to the equation that this isn't the first nor shall it be the last time I have a moment of regret...because the reality is, I am human. It's in our nature; it's how we learn...and how we teach. The goal is to remember and not to repeat. What is the definition of insanity? Albert Einstein once said "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results".
So there it is. I've let it out. Now it's time to do something different before someone thinks I'm insane!
I know the words are there, just waiting to pounce,
Yet they sit, abated by the keyboard
That once was so inviting.
Come on...let go...
A writing plague,
After so much time away
Should not be my curse!
Silence. Nothingness.
Like the edge of the universe.
Inspiration fails me
Though I know it's in me.
These tired hands match my tired brain.
My heart aches to be in the game,
But my mind won't connect.
Ahhh, a spark of recognition begins...
I understand where the kink in the thought is!
Damned self-intrusion!!
I undermine myself once again....
I am stuck in a moment, an instant of regret...embarrassment...when something you should be doing properly goes awry because you aren't on your game. Admittedly, the first stage of the downfall is internal frustration and then avoidance. Somehow we bounce along, thinking that as long as it's only ourselves that know, we can live with our own shortfalls. However, as soon as someone acknowledges the err of our ways, the game changes. We become accountable. Embarrassed. Regretful.
So, I did something I regret...no, it wasn't evil or intentional or hurtful, but it was irresponsible. Period. Oh, and let's add to the equation that this isn't the first nor shall it be the last time I have a moment of regret...because the reality is, I am human. It's in our nature; it's how we learn...and how we teach. The goal is to remember and not to repeat. What is the definition of insanity? Albert Einstein once said "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results".
So there it is. I've let it out. Now it's time to do something different before someone thinks I'm insane!
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