So, because of the devastation and beauty of Mother Nature—revealed on television and throughout social media—I trust that HER power to bring us peace or heartache is without question. We The People experience HER wearing our masks of prejudice or our ability to feel the sorrow of others.
Mother Nature is a great teacher imparting that WE HUMANKIND are in this together whether we know it or like it.
And—despite those who believe their power encircles the masses—Mother Nature reminds us that EARTH is her domain and WE are but travelers learning how POWER corrupts or beautifies our world.
Promise means to pledge, assure, vow and guarantee. But life, it seems, cannot pledge, assure, vow nor guarantee anything to anyone. I know this instinctively; but, until it involves the extinction of the Budding Promise of a child… Well, it is then I feel the bereavement at a depth that is my soul.
At the moment we hear a child belittled; know of sexual abuse; wonder why bullies are created; children murdered or inside that same death: enslaved. This is both the loss of a child’s soul and the passing away of Budding Promise to the heart that is Mother Earth.
How might our world have “looked” had every Budding Promise been free to seek themselves and save us?
March 3, 2011 – It’s been quite a week – one of those we all grow from or suffer the consequences.
My grandson, sixteen, lost his grandfather who died without warning. The funeral and gave-side service were yesterday. How this intimate first exposure to sorrow will mold his character, only time will reveal to us. The immediacy is shock. There will be attempts to bargain for a different outcome. Beat to death the reasons why this happened. In anger we’ll shout at those we love the most. They will likewise have their moment with us. We’ll wake at three in the morning startled by the reality. Some of us will take on God to find answers for our grief. We’ll say, “This can’t have happened!” I know this because I’ve had many kinds of loss in my lifetime. My grandson, on the other hand, just stepped onto the pathway to his… Now that is truly sorrowful.
I hurt my back a week ago, bending over instead of kneeling to accomplish some simple task. I know better, so my lack of self-alertness made me very angry. In my mind I’m still forty, however, my body never got the memorandum (or tweets in these social media days). Aging is but one more form of sorrow that we all go through. And, like losing a loved one, at times it also catches us off-guard. Each of us will deal with the reality in different ways; although I’m certain we’ll meet head-on all five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Well, maybe not acceptance. I’m still looking into this phenomenon.
Yet, as I so often find, there is a bright spot to our week… Dahlia, a two-month old puppy we adopted from our local animal shelter. She is a lab/retriever mix and an absolute delight. Guess what, she requires frequent walks and these help my back to heal. Her baby-like curiosity reminds me to look anew at life and find its promise. So it would seem that loss and new life are with us each day and in every way we can imagine…Janet