Risking My Heart

I've never planted a tree. Nor have I made a baby. I have, however, nurtured a child.

I have admired flowers in the spring, and I've wilted under the hot, summer sun. I've cried when I saw the colors of fall, and gasped in awe as I awoke to snow drifts peeking into the window of my bedroom on the second floor, yet in all my years, I wonder if I have ever truly risked my heart.

My eyes have seen raw beauty. I have marveled at people who encapsulate their culture. Teardrops have fallen from nothing more than receiving a smile from a stranger. I have walked through tropical forests as well as cities founded thousands of years ago. I've beheld and been inspired by the drawings of children just as much as I have been enthralled by the works of world renown artists. I've stood silently and gazed up at the universe while praying for the courage to speak. I've swatted a fly without feeling, while weeping over the death of a loved one, and yet, I wonder if I have ever risked my heart.

Years go by in a blink of an eye. The trail I'm following has just begun to descend the hill. I've set goals, attained some, and discarded most because I fear failing. I've hoped when all seemed hopeless. And still, I've walked away from a sure thing. I've loved and been loved, I've liked and been liked, I've wounded and been wounded, I've forgiven and I've been forgiven. And sometimes, it has taken a long time to forgive or be forgiven. Sometimes, I feel bitter and cynical on one day and carefree and trusting on the next, and still, I wonder if I've ever risked my heart.

Life is more than the length of days. It is more than the beauty surrounding me. My experiences have helped to shape me, but they don't necessarily define me.

No, I've never planted a tree. I have merely scattered seeds.

Perhaps, a seed amongst humans is a kind act, a smile, a friendship, a willingness to love.

I will share my thoughts today. I'll continue to scatter seeds in both word and deed, and perhaps, as time goes by, I'll find as I rest beneath a tree, that I have risked my heart afterall.

Woman vs. Machines

It was supposed to be a quiet day, a productive day, a day of recharging my internal batteries by doing what I love... reading and writing in peace and in silence. I was supposed to put the finishing touches on ten short stories. It was supposed to be a stress free day.

It seems the computer in my living room and smoke detector in my kitchen had an entirely different agenda for me.

I'm now filled with bitterness toward a machine and an alarm.

As far as I know, there is no correlation between my computer crashing and the batteries dying in the smoke detector. But I can tell you, when the alarm went off seconds after the computer crashed, it scared the living daylights out of me! I'm pretty sure the entire town of Turlock has been evacuated by now. With all the noise blasting from my little home, how could they not.

The lady who resides in the alarm keeps screaming at me to get out of the house, and I find her, and her shrill voice, a bit unsettling. I'm not cooking anything, there is no fire or smoke, but the b*#☆h won't shut up! And yet, I still followed her instructions... twice. OMG! Where's my hammer!

My ears won't stop ringing. The voice is gone, but the beeping resides. The dogs are barking. A spider made a home behind the alarm and now she and her family are on the move toward the living room. I can't find my can of Raid, and my concentration, good mood, and good will toward all living creatures has completely flown the coop.

Death, destruction, and absolute mayhem have leaked from their hiding place within. It pains me to know they were even there. I found it surreal as I watched myself unleash a reign of terror on the spider while chasing it with an out-stretched hand that clutched the alarm that was beeping and screaming, "Get out of the house!" In the other hand was my hammer. The symbol of my great prowess was held aloft in a threatening manner while sweat streamed from my grip. It was as if my hammer was salivating and hungry for vengence. BAM!

Not by any means was this a good day for peace.

Deep breaths, Donna. This is a frustrating setback on many levels. And even though the freaking alarm sounds like it, it is not the end of the world.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I can hardly wait for it. Who knows what adventure life will bring. H-o-l-y
s-m-o-k-e-s! The damn thing is still making noise! Excuse me while I go smash that bleeping, beeping alarm once again!

Hiya!!!

Friends, it won't stop beeping, and I've completely lost it. I've lost my mind. 🤤 The machines have won. The Matrix is here. And I am now waiting for Agent Smith to come and insert a bug into my belly button. All is lost. Life as I know it is over.

Beep-beep-beep...beep-beep-beep... beep-beep-beep...

Be a Friend

A friend of mine once said, "If you want a friend, be a friend."

Wise words. Take them to heart. Mull over them. Let them grow inside your being. Water them. Tend to them. Do them. Enjoy them.

If you want a friend, be a friend.

If you want kindness, be kindness.

If you want joy, be joyous.

If you want love, be loving.

If you want peace, be peaceful.

Even with all the senseless actions that are happening in our world, this globe keeps spinning, the sun rises and sets, pain lingers for days on end, and sometimes we hear good news which makes us smile. Sometimes we hear a baby giggle and it makes us cry. That tear holds the pain of our todays and the hope of our tomorrows.

When you see a soul who is hurting, comfort them. Be kind, be loving, be joyful, be peace.

Your words and actions make a difference.

Be a friend.

Love Never Fails

Love does not fail. Yet, oftentimes, I do fail. Even so, please know I want to love well.

So today...

I will choose to be patient with myself and with others

I will choose to be kind to myself and to others

I will choose to not envy others

I will choose to not boast about myself

I will choose to not be haughty towards others

I will choose to not dishonor others

I will choose to not be self-seeking

I will choose to not be easily angered by any offence (word or deed)

I will choose to keep no record of wrongs done to me or done to others

I will choose to not delight in evil

I will choose to rejoice with the truth

I will choose to protect

I will choose to trust

I will choose to hope

I will choose to persevere

I may fail at one or all of these, but please know that today, I recognise I want unfailing love to guide me.

I choose to try.

Humans are worth it.
Animals are worth it.
Nature is worth it.
Love is worth it.

Ponderings: Forgiveness, Mercy, and Love

There is not a person in the world who has not been wounded by the wrongdoing of another.

Each of us, in one way or another, to one extreme or another, has been wronged by someone in word, action, or thought.

We have all been tainted by another's shortcomings.

This is our truth.

                              ***

There are no innocent people when it comes to wrongdoing.

Each of us, in one way or another, to one extreme or another, has wronged someone in word, action, or thought.

We have all tainted others, and been tainted by our own shortcomings.

This is our truth.

                              ***

If I cry out for mercy and forgiveness for my wrongdoing and yet, refuse to extend mercy and forgiveness to a person who has wronged me, I have compounded my wound, and dealt a wound to my enemy as well.

For how would I feel if God or another refused mercy and forgiveness to me?

                              ***

In the cycle of wound and retaliatory wounding, my ego becomes fortified. I bolster myself with pride and anger, so much so, that I do not realize what I am doing in perpetuating the cycle.

When denial sets in, my retaliation (wrongdoing) becomes right and is justified because my woundedness has been elevated to a higher position than a human.

Unforgiveness strips the offender of their humanity; they are now only an enemy. It is easier to retaliate with harm to an enemy than it is to retaliate harm to a man or woman.

The statement, "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing," is no less true today than it was when Jesus cried it out from the cross.

All pain comes from an offence, albeit real or perceived.

All forgiveness comes from loving others as we love ourselves.

There is not one person who is innocent of wrongdoing.

Love and forgive yourself anyway.

Love and forgive others anyway.

And that is mercy.

                              ***

When wounded remember:

• Love is a choice. It is helpful to remember I am loved by others. From that place of strength, I choose to love the one who has wounded me. It is a process.

• Mercy is a choice. To be willing to extend mercy, it is helpful to remember any mercy I have ever received prior to the offence. It is a process.

• Forgiveness will always be a choice. And yes, it is good to remember the times when I, too, have wounded another, and had to ask for forgiveness. It is a process.

Relationships are a process of interaction. No one is perfect. We have all erred. We must all remember humility as we interact with others.

                              ***

If a person is in an abusive relationship, they do not have to stay in that relationship for love, forgiveness, and mercy to be extended to the abuser.

Taking care of yourself and your children is not an offense, no matter what the abuser says.

Do what you have to do to be safely away from harm. Allow the process of forgiveness to begin from a safe place.

You are worth being safe.

You are worth having a peace-filled life.

Love & peace to all.

Words Matter

It's odd to think about the phases I have gone through with social media. It's sometimes heartwarming and sometimes a bit frightening. I suppose there will always be a maturing process we go through when we learn a new medium of communication.

I confess there is an element of addiction to wanting to know what's going on in the world, just as there is a desire to know what is going on in the lives of my family and my online friendships, too.

In the process of navigating social media, and in taking in as much of the information as I can, I have realized that I have also found my voice. In many ways, that is a good thing. Yet, I've also learned there are drawbacks to being vocal.

I've recently reviewed some of the writings I've posted in the last couple of years, and at times, I've noticed there has been a difference in how I communicate my thoughts. Although I may have strong feelings about a topic or think I am writing with conviction, I may simply be coming across as arrogant.

I've noticed this in my writing. At times, I've also noticed it in other's writings. And I've noticed it in some of the comments I and others have left in response to someone else's posts. I think in some ways we are all growing up in the world of social media.

I suppose the internet has enabled us to become a cynical people. In our online activity, probably more than in our real life interactions, we are all capable of biting one another verbally.

Due to being online, there is a sense of separation between the typer and reader, and because of this divide, it can become easy to say things we might not say face to face.

It is also easy to not take responsibility for any hurt brought about by the words we type because we are not afforded the opportunity to see a face respond in hurt or anger when reading our words.

Whether typed or spoken, our words have the power to wound or bring life.

I've had to ask myself...

When did being right become more important than being kind?

When did it become okay to subtly or maybe not so subtly, shame those with a different opinion than my own?

Did the safety of a keyboard embolden me or has this ugliness been in my heart all along?

Those are questions I must answer for myself.

I understand for some of us soft spoken ones, the safety of speaking our minds in the form of typing has brought with it a sense of freedom.

And perhaps, for those who found their voice years ago, a keyboard merely represents another way to express themselves.

No matter which camp I find myself in, I've found, I need a reminder. 

Kindness is more important than being right.

Humility is more important than having a sense of power.

The people behind each monitor or phone have faces. The hands that type the messages, and the eyes that read the words are both connected to a heart and soul.

The safety of speaking from behind the screen of a computer must never overshadow the humanity within ourselves or within our readers.

So, I want to say to each and every one of you... if in sharing my opinion I have belittled you, or by my words I have insinuated that those who hold a different opinion than I do are unimportant, valueless, or stupid... I am truly sorry, and I ask for your forgiveness.

From now on, I will endeavor to share my opinions, and my feelings regarding my opinions, as well as my thoughts about other's opinions with more tact and sensitivity.

You all matter to me more than my desire to be right about my viewpoints.

In the end, people and relationships are more important than any topic could ever be. I want my writing to be an act of kindness, not a display of arrogance.

Peace to you all.

Donna