Posted by: Artsy Squibbles | September 14, 2006

The Gift Of Blog

A few things were said by another caring woman at another blog site and I was compelled to reply, as it is, I was in the wrong, and placed my two pennies worth where they did not belong. So I come back several days past to this post to make some sort of ammends…and repair, delete, how be it said…I am truly not a callous soul. My words were sincere and with thought.

It happens all over the world. Someone runs across a magnificent phrase, a turn of words, striking a resounding chord within ourselves…and we react.

And I said…

“Careful Dear, sweet and kind perhaps, filled with words of wonder and beauty, certainly, and his photos are magnificent and majestic in thought and vision…but remember…he is human, and as such as is the rest of us, fallible, if that is the right word. Change is a wonderful thing in that it teaches us how many paths there are. Look inside yourself, like a blind man with first sight, for the way. Pedestals are not a place to put people. And yes, I like this blog too. And come back frequently. Lots of blogs out there to experience joy, wonder and success with soul, spirit, life, sharing. And was that really peace that was destroyed or complacent thought.

Namaste. None of us are angels…all of us are loved.

Now, I think I will take heed to my own words, remembering that we are all searching for comfort, joy, acceptance wherever we turn. Like a mother’s arms, with a tender kiss on the brow before a sound sleep, safe at least for awhile.

Here’s to nurturing the best in ourselves! Sometimes we must see through another’s eyes, like a blindman, holding on, learning to let go, feeling our way along…until we see with our hearts and not our minds. I think I’ll finish this as a post, for someone very dear to me may think I do not care because I’m beginning to see… “

At this I returned to my own little spot.

****And as I edit this post, after a three day reflection, I can see and clearly inderstand why I reacted to her words. The first steps to the dance floor began with words strikingly like hers.

And so I am here, at this post sifting through a variety of emotions, because I gratefully have emotions. Because my senses are alive, so I am alive. Because I love, and hurt, and feel such joy when I read another’s words of care and thought. A word was given to me early on..discernment. Several others I have picked up along the way. Trust, perseverance, gratitude, humility…

But what I am absolutely most grateful for is the communication. The tender tidbits passed my way…So many of us stuck in our little worlds are reaching out and no one is there. Perhaps this is the best reason to blog. Not to show off some lifestyle, ideal, or poem, or piece of art as a showcase to “here I am and this is what I do” (as I have done, pretty shabbily at that)…but rather to commune, and comment, as another blogger (aka Human Being with a Computer) so nicely put it.

I believe that many of us have such a void in our lives that we are willing to fill it with anything and everything that arrives before us. This could be good, or not. And this is where discernment factors in. If your skills are below the radar, you can easily become lost and tangled in a web of wants and losses. And who needs more of that. So here is where I say, be good to yourself, nurture yourself, communicate as much as possible without divulging too much personal information. They say this allover the place. th papers, the news, advertisements against identity thieves, and for the safety of our children.

I too have made many mistakes, costing me dearly…most dear…my heart, ah…but then that is not a mistake but an experience. I learn this the hard way.

If I offend any one by speaking out on such matters, please forgive me. I am quite human, and feel the daggers of time within my body. I do not want to waste another minute being without love, living a complacent life, following some Patriarchal dream that was placed at my feet when I was born…

Rather, I search for the dancers, the doers, the dreamers, the live well and givers of life, and love. The ones that seek freedom for the soul, enlighten, enliven, edify and cradle the wounded bird until it flies. I seek tender mercies for my past. I seek the adornment of sweat on my brow with my hands in clay, my heart in whomevers hands that my God sees fit to place me…be it friend, please be it friend, and my soul in the Beloved’s Caress. I seek peace on this planet. In my mind, in my heart, in my home, and in my back yard…wherever I may be. A journey of a blinded heart to the mountain. Will I see a view when I get to the top? Will I ever get to the top?

A walking cane made from an pear tree is lost somewhere between here and then. And now I reach for a hand…pull me up to your level, let me see with your eyes what I cannot see for myself.

In the past I have lazily attempted to seek fortune and fame. Fortune, in essence of the word is good, so yes, I seek to be fortunate. To be protected is what I truly seek. Shelter, warmth, friendly conversations that willlast a life time.

I gave up much in one letter years ago, out of fear, youthful disregard, and plain stupidity. The course of a lifetime, or even a day changes everything.

I seek the nameless, the unsung song, the silent word, the river, the unloved, the broken…come share with me what I have. It isn’t much…a blanket of dreams, a weaving of words, a cup of love. Cover me with hope and endurance for the day is here…and I am awake.

And I wrote…a thousand dreams ago…

this prayer, a thought I will never let go… even at that time a huge mistake was occuring, and I remember the situations well, now spun into a story and a song.

To touch and caress each part of your mind,

Each part of your heart and soul,

with sensitive hope while searching to find

The love that’s my ultimate goal.

 

 

And so I say, good day, good morning, Hello, Howdee, Hey…

How are you today? I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve said all I need to say.

 

Sometimes I surprise myself. And it scares me. So I crawl into a shell, retreating, filled with anxiety and fear of rejection.

But today I stand up and say…I am awake. I am alive with feeling.

Thank you.

Am I the poet and the artist that I thought I could be if I do not make a living at it? This is where reality hits the wall, smashing dreams…oh, yes. Faith. But is blind faith strong enough, am I capable of persevering through these next few days. We shall see, won’t we. Peace. And Happy Posting!

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