Kindness

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Briefly beautiful. Shortly sweet. You do a artistic job of juxtaposing the chilling beauty of winter with the awesome warming of human love. .

Footprints of Thoughts

 "Brother Wind's Artistic Breath."  Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann, Feb.2, 2015. Palmyra, WI USA “Brother Wind’s Artistic Breath.” Photo Credit: Jane H. Johann, Feb.2, 2015. Palmyra, WI USA

“One kind word can warm three winter months.” 

Japanese Proverb

the cold, wintry night had just taken leave

the day’s tapestry was beginning its weave

when your warming words

came into my being…

“I love you”

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This old house

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Reflections


This old house

“Kelly, I want you to do a cover story on that old homestead over in Plymouth.” Shauna said.

“That old house? It’s barely standing. No one wants to touch it, not even a real estate developer to determine the property’s worth or potential. They claim there is something strange about it. An old man who looked after the adjoining properties around there lived in it.”

“Yes, the caretaker. But, he died years ago, a very old man. But, there is no death record on him.”

“And his spirit still lurks around the old grounds. That’s what the real estate office says.”

“Well, you said you loved doing stories on places where things happened.” Shauna said, smiling.

Land deeds, surveys, property listings, documents of all kinds were spread across an old map table at the county courthouse. What looked like tea stain marks and scrawled signatures merged together…

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Daring to be different

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Reflections

DSCF0915 A single pink rose bloom on my white rose-bush

Daring, different

From all the rest this pink rose

Shyly opens up

~~~~~~~

I have several rose bushes in my back yard of different colors; red, pink, and white. The single pink bloom here is the only one among the white or ivory colored blooms on this bush and seemed remarkable as we watched it develop and bloom.

It reminds me of the ways in which I felt different growing up. My friends had blue eyes, blond hair, had common names like Kathy or Linda, and were considered ‘cool’ and ‘popular’. I had brown hair, brown eyes, a less common name, was quiet and more the introvert. They had bicycles of their own. Mine belonged to my sister. They all made A’s and B’s in school. I barely passed on C’s. Their fathers had good paying careers and jobs. My father…

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Falling In Love

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This poem evokes all the emotional desire and pain of love…check it out.

Rajat Narula

Lying on my bed,

Alone,

I think of you

How I would love to run my fingers through those curls.

Kiss your fair throat.

And hold you tight in my arms.

And

I am choked with desire.

My thoughts turning into a pain.

A searing pain of desiring you.

I switch off my thoughts,

And transcend in to your mind.

And try to think your thoughts.

What are you thinking of

–   Today?

–   The poem?

–   The party?

–   The pact?

And then wonder,

If at all I am anywhere in your thoughts.

The thought of this thought is scary.

and

I am afraid.

Perhaps it may still turn out to be a situation,

Where love on one side,

Is reciprocated by mockery on another.

I get quiet,

And transcend back to my thoughts.

Try to switch you off.

And find,

I can’t do that.

I am

Hopelessly and…

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Suicide and the Narrative of Choice

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Good insights on depression, it is not a choice but a disease.

bottomfacedotcom

Whilst reading about the tragic death of the great Robin Williams I repeatedly stumbled upon the narrative of choice. Places like Psychcentral spoke about suicide being an “insidious choice”, but a “choice” nonetheless, so much so that they repeated the word to drive the message home. Meanwhile, whilst perusing social media I repeatedly came across variations of “people who commit suicide are selfish”, “how can anyone do that to their family?”. These sorts of comments make me twitchy. We’ve all heard them before.

In my own case they were personalised and weaponised, “How could YOU do that to your children? Do YOU not care about them?” I did, that was the problem. For some time I had felt like a millstone around the necks of my family. I loved them, but hated myself and could only see the ways I made their lives worse. After 2 failed suicide attempts in…

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