Stumble

Sometimes the Lord must brings us low before He can lift us higher. -Joseph Smith

For I have gone and hurt myself
Almost as deep as bone
Lost in the pain and darkness
Lo! I do not weep alone.

Right by my side I find
In my heart a warmth
Soft and gentle, loud and clear
Even as I soar.

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Ironic Island – One-Liner Wednesday

Ah yes, that is the logic that a child of 11 years has.


My thoughts when re-watching Pixar’s “Inside Out” and you’ve passed the sequence that talks about the different Islands of Personality and Joy has stated that she ‘loves Honest Island, and that’s the truth!’ Which is followed up on in an ironic way later when Fear mentions how happy he was to hear from Joy that the whole earthquakes happening in California were just rumors and weren’t true.

I kind of just sat there and went, huh. Before remembering the logic I had at that age and that my nieces and nephews have had at that age and then nodded.

Check out the original One-Liner Wednesday.

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Given

Too often we all demand
Reaching out with grabbing hand
Unstable in our own ways
Searching for more honest days
Taking instead of giving most days

Sometimes we forget that trust has to be given in order to be built up in the first place.

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A Burden?

But I find it hidden deep
Undisturbed, but ready to leap
Requiring nothing more than a word
Dancing about as quick as a bird
Even when I’m so tired
Not going to leave you in the mire

Was reading through the various pins on Pinterest when I came across a description of River Song (from Doctor Who). At the end of the description about her, it mentioned that she had the ‘feistiness of her mother,’ but that she had also ‘inherited the great burden of compassion from her father.’

It made me stop and think about compassion.

Compassion isn’t just something that you give to others, but something that is a part of who you are.

I looked up the word on Google (because my gigantic Webster dictionary (that my family loves and uses as the Last Word on Words) is currently boxed up and in a storage unit two valleys over) and what caught my attention wasn’t the definition given, but the list of synonyms at the end.

Pity sympathy, empathy, fellow feeling, care, concern, solicitude, sensitivity, warmth, love tenderness, mercy, leniency, tolerance, kindness, humanitycharity.

Humanity caught my attention, because it made me think of something that I grew up believing. Humanity isn’t something that can be given. It’s isn’t manners or etiquette or anything that is learned. It is something that you are born with even if you don’t recognize it as such. It might not even be something that you feel strongly for in regards to another human. It might only be animals that really stir your heart and mind with tenderness or warmth, but to me, that is still showing humanity.

Now charity is something different and yet the same. It’s all of the words before it and more. It is something that is for others, but because it is for others it also affects us in a way that is difficult to describe. When you show love for others, even if at first you don’t feel it, it changes something inside of you. Practice makes progress after all.

But in the end, charity is something that you have within yourself and it changes the way you think when you are using it for others in a way that doesn’t showcase yourself in any way. Sometimes charity is the ability to forgive and love someone even when they have done you a great wrong.

Because you care more about them than about what they have done.

(This doesn’t mean that you forget it or don’t try and protect yourself. You can forgive without forgetting what happened even if it’s one of the hardest things to do.)

Compassion is a heavy thing to bear, but in my mind it’s kind of like carrying a small child who has fallen asleep. They are heavier asleep than awake because they aren’t helping to hold themselves up at all, but it’s one of the best weights I have ever held.

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Guard Dog

Because
All
Residents
Know I will protect them

This little thing popped into my head while my dog Vincent was chasing a skunk away from the hen house a few minutes ago. He does regular round around the property at night at random, but he spends most of his time either near the hen house or the garage so that no predator, however small, gets to the chickens, ducks, turkeys, or the rabbits. I’m pretty sure he would chase them away from the goats if we could leave their gates open at night.

(I think the only reason Vincent doesn’t get grumpy with us for cutting off his access to the goats is because the goats are bigger than him and aren’t afraid to use their horns on anything that threatens them.)

I guess the biggest difference in his behavior now versus in winter is that he pretty much stays outside all night. In the winter, Vincent would wake someone up (usually me) to let him outside to check on ‘his’ animals and then wanted back in again because it regularly gets below zero here at night in the winter. (The winter of 2016-2017 it actually reached -15 degrees several times. Vincent as a nice thick coat, but it wouldn’t be good for him to be outside in those temperatures for too long.)

And now I’m going to sign off, because I am reaching the tired-rambly stage.

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Take a Breath

For I have found my loneliness
Infinite and sure
Now it has left me behind
Dancing away in history’s arms

My go-to thing to help when I am troubled has been music or words my whole life. I’m not talented in music the same way many of my sisters and parents are, but because it’s been such a large part of my childhood it continues to be the thing I turn to. The same for reading and writing. Reading both fiction and nonfiction has helped me center myself when I haven’t been able to sing for one reason or another.

As an adult, I have discovered that those two things, while still important and certainly helpful, haven’t quite been enough at times.

Increasingly, at times.

But the thing I’ve found is that you don’t have to stick to just one or even two things to find peace. And sometimes you need to branch out and find something new in order to stretch your soul.

For me, the last few years gain depth and peace as I have started to research my family history. As I’ve come to know these people that are long since dead, I have found that I feel less alone during the times when, physically, the only others around are my animals.

(Though working in the ground for our plants and spending time taking care of our animals has also brought me a peace I hadn’t thought possible. It has helped to balance and start the healing for my physical problems. There’s nothing quite like having a handful of goatlings sleeping on you while you read. Their warmth and gentle, unconditional love is something so sweet and soft that it can only exist in the hearts of the young of any species.)

This dive into my soul was brought to you by the Dungeon Prompt: The Healing Arts. Some of these things I hadn’t realized were having such an impact on me until I read through the prompt and the challenge it gave.

(laughs at self) I just realized that this is an old prompt. I had a pingback from it earlier today that I hadn’t noticed before and started writing before I even realized what it was about. I just went in and read the prompt and then this post was written before I had realized this. Isn’t it something how the past pops up when you least expect it?

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Point of View

“Heroes are unaware of the privilege inherent in their worldview and villains lack the luxury of ignorance.” –dls

She had to argue against what she had read. Lila had known plenty of villains who had remained ignorant of how the world worked, though most of those villains either weren’t actually villains (she tried not to think of the one who really just wanted a friend and had one in his nemesis. Maybe that was why the old man never really did anything too nefarious or dastardly…) Those that were real villains likely didn’t even realize that they were villains, because they saw themselves as the heroes of their story.

Like the one Lila had watched take over her planet.

Michael believed that he was helping the denizens of his new world have a better life. If he controlled everything, then there was no crime. Death happened, of course it did, but it wasn’t violent and was, in fact, something that was painless. Everyone who died did so in their sleep.

Mostly because everyone had a cut off age (decided, nominally by themselves for how long they wanted to naturally live, but no one ever knew what someone else’s cut off date was. Only the Officials that Michael put as the Overseers of the River of Styx knew when the cut off date chosen was. How could anyone else know if the cut off date was even what the dead person had chosen then?) You didn’t even have to go to the Officials.

They came to you.

No one knew how they got in your home, because nothing was ever moved. No noises were made to wake anyone else up in your home, whether they were animals or humans.

You just went to bed after wishing those you lived with good night (if you lived with someone) and then you didn’t wake up in the morning.

Everyone knew what had happened. It was covered in detail when you were sixteen solar cycles and asked to communicate your cut off date.

This wasn’t the kind of thing that someone else should be scheduling.

It wasn’t the kind of thing Lila thought anyone should be scheduling, much less actually following through on!

This wasn’t even the worst of things that Michael had set up, it was just always one of the first things that Lila thought about.

Mostly because she knew that the chosen cut off date wasn’t always the one that was honored.

She didn’t know how many others knew. There was no way to find out. You could never be certain who wasn’t a plant from the Overseers and who was genuine. There was really no safe way to find out.

Lila should know.

She’d almost lost her life and her freedom the last time she’d taken a chance.

She’d only lost a few fingers instead, but considering it could have killed her instead…

Lila’s still not certain just how she was able to get away and remain hidden. As far as she’d known up until that point, no one had been able to do such a thing on Michael’s New World Order.

A part of her wonders if it’s the only other lie told to everyone the world over. The practical side of her knows that it doesn’t matter unless she’s able to find others to work with.

Of course, finding others to work with will mean nothing if they don’t have a way to fight back.

And they don’t.

You only get access to anything that can be classed as a weapon if you work for a specific part of the New World Order.

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