Pause and Reflect

This Christmas what I wish for doesn’t come packaged inside a box or glammed up in a gift bag. Long ago, I boxed the photographs and tucked away the memories of Christmases past.

 

 

Tree is Up
Tree is Up

 

Perhaps it’s the wisdom of age. Or just plain old weariness. I long for simplicity and gifts that can’t be placed underneath the tree. There is nothing I need; the possessions I own just fanciful and temporary, faded and broken.

I long for Peace. Peace on Earth. I want to live in a world that is kinder, a more compassionate place. A world where wars become stories in history texts.

I long for love and belonging. No child forgotten.

I long for family to circle round. The world is way too big now.

And finally, as I think about the upcoming holiday season, I whisper a “thank you” to my friends. You hold space in my heart.

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I’ve Learned

As we age, we gain wisdom through the rear view mirror. Pay attention to that view.

I’ve learned that having the last word doesn’t mean you’ve won and that silence doesn’t sound like defeat.

Appreciate everyone “messes up.” Some of the best people are the ones who have pulled themselves from the ditch, straightened, and dusted off the debris.

Vulnerability of heart is the most authentic rendering. Seek it in others and treasure its glimmer.

Be brave. Tell your story. You never know who might relate or be inspired from it.

Listen to others. That is how we seed the first stirrings of compassion.

Imagine. Pick stars from the heavens. Toss them about. Let their light shine through you.

I’ve learned that when others belittle you- walk away. Their words say more about them than about you. Keep your head high. And that one kind word can make a difference in the life of another. Go ahead- send that letter, speak those words, reach out and make the call.

I’ve learned you will love and lose; love anyways. Good byes are meant to be difficult. Only then do we appreciate what we had.

It is a universal law that you will be tested. Take the test and learn from your mistakes. Then wallow in your blessings.

Learn that friends can circle like family and that’s okay. Remain loyal to your tribe.

When you have, give. It just feels better.

Always find a way to forgive. Tattoo it on a wrist. People that hurt you are “hurting” souls.

Learn not to kick someone when they are down. Remember you’ve been there and that at any time, it’s a short tumble back.

Do at least one kind action a day. The world is starved to feed from gentle acts.

And at the end of the day, degrees and diplomas mean nothing. Pretty things fade, and your net worth will mean little. It isn’t about status or assets. People will judge you on how you made them feel.

And wear the gold sequin dress.

 

The Circle

The circle opened to let me in. A hand reached for mine. Warmth from a touch pulsed through starved veins; a fingertip graced my forearm. A heartbeat slowed.

We stood tall together. Ancestors, cousins, sisters, mothers and aunts all stepped forth, heads held high. You turned and faced us.

Strong women. We’ve known struggle. The brave ones; we’ve faced fear, cut it down with our light. Words tossed like stones only bruised our surface. We’ve known betrayals and chose to rise above the duplicity. Compassionate, we conquer hate with tolerance and love. Joyous we drink from celebration’s cup.

Honourable women. We’ve known loss, felt its icy fingers spear our hearts. Tears slipped like silk to cleanse sorrow’s stain. Babies born and buried, husbands lost, doors shut. Voiceless we screamed to a seemingly absent god, “ Have mercy.”

We’ve stumbled; momentarily lost our footing through the darkened forest. Our advice to you is simple.

Take shelter under the limbs of the finest tree. Pause within the stillness. Perhaps the only audible is the wind as it lifts the leaves to dance. Punched by noise leaves you fit to embrace silence. Can you hear the rustling?

Realize a presence, something more. It is their legion. They come to circle and say, “Your story, your voice, your being, matters.” Something enchanted, other worldly happens. Whispered voices murmur, “We are here. You are not alone.”

The circle opens to let you in. A hand reaches forth. Its touch pulses through hungry veins and warms you. A fingertip graces your forearm. You feel your heartbeat slow.

We stand tall together. Your ancestors, sisters, cousins, mothers and aunts. Strong women.

 

 

 

 

Three Words

Peace On Earth Postcard - Rifle Paper Company
Peace On Earth Postcard~ The graphics and colours are oh so lovely.
– Rifle Paper Company

https://riflepaperco.com/

Peace on Earth. Three blessed words. We hear the phrase spoken, breathe the message. Why then, is it so difficult for human kind to live the credo?

Once children, we played by The Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have done unto yourself. ” We grew up, we forgot.

Three words. A stretch of the heart; the pull a reminder to soften. Peace on Earth, an opportunity to show compassion toward another.  We cry the same tears.

“Hush,” you say. A hand reaches forth, a light shines in darkness. “Walk with me,” is the whisper.

I cast a stone to the ocean. Who am I to judge? The waves lift and carry the offering

to land at your feet.

Do you see now? Connected, our actions ripple and roll from shore to shore and heart to heart. Stand with me. Hand to hand, our fingers weave together, arms reach around the globe. Peace on Earth.

Three words.

The inspiration for this passage came from the Rifle Co.- Peace on Earth Postcard. As we move toward November 11, the Canadian Remembrance Day and American Veteran’s Day, I felt the message timely. Peace on Earth. 

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