Compassion comes in all shapes and sizes, never to big or too small.
Each and every act matters!
Thanks to Yvonne Spence and Lizzi Rogers for spearheading this great idea.
This event will be 1000 bloggers, at least, writing posts about compassion, kindness, support, caring for others, non-judgement, care for the environment etc, and ALL PUBLISH ON THE SAME DAY (Feb 20, 2015) to flood the Blogosphere with GOOD!
Use the hashtag #1000Speak to promote this event across social media.
I will be participating and just maybe posting something my 10-year-old daughter will be writing also. Join the Facebook group and get your write on!
To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 – 1882) American Essayist & Poet
The moon shone bright, as visions of stuffing danced in their heads.
They gobbled as they ran, for this was the night they came to dread.
For tomorrow would soon come, and their fates would be sealed.
With mashed potatoes and trimmings, their glory’s revealed.
What are you thankful for?
Thanksgiving is only 2 weeks away!
In early November
our thoughts turn
to dreams of turkey.
With grateful hearts
and joyful thanksgiving,
we wait in anticipation dreaming of turkey.
Stop and listen!
For something turkey this way comes!
A delicious bird
cooked golden brown
oh, the turkey dreams.
Not a thought is given
to his ultimate demise,
he now lives on only in turkey dreams.
~Mark Schutter 2014
Just having some fun! Wishing everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving and don’t stress too much about the preparations as most likely it will all work out in the end, so enjoy! Now, what are you thankful for? ~M
I recently passed somewhat of a milestone, alive for half a century. More years of my life behind me than possibly ahead. I find myself somewhat more reflective and contemplative over the past month. Who am I kidding, I have always been reflective and somewhat contemplative, in fact I have been accused of thinking too much at times. I ponder the twists in the road and I have been hard on myself through the years and am learning, slowly. Grace comes uneasy to me and I can only extend grace to others when I am willing to receive it for myself also. May we each find the grace we seek.
Where is the grace when the moment is done?
The words that are spoken, hang heavy in the air.
To late to be returned.
Where is the grace as I begin to come undone?
Grace for myself, grace for others.
When the moments melt into nothingness.
Grace for myself, grace for others.
When the pain inside is all too real.
Where is the grace when the final bell tolls?
Too late for regrets, for the end is here.
Fates are forever sealed.
Where is the grace in exchange for my soul?
She spoke those words, I cringed inside.
A smile she shared, and I tried to hide.
There is a cost to love, are we willing to pay?
It takes all we have, and ever will each day.
Dwelling along the edges of night
Silently hiding in the shadows cast
By others uncertain diffused light
There is another light that shines
Unafraid into the dark
Burning bright for all time
A light which exposes broken places
Where all the facade and fake reside
Tears leave tracks down our faces
Cracks in our amour are revealed
Wounded hearts are laid bare
Eternal fates may now be sealed
For in that moment all is clear
The pain and hurt can be healed
The light cleanses all fear
Our brokenness is only a start
Light pours through the cracks
Restoring and renewing lost hearts
~Mark W. Schutter ©2014
(What is the cost to love and are we willing to pay? To open up ourselves to the vulnerability and allow the broken places to be revealed in truth and honesty. For only through the cracks that we try to so desperately to hide, will the ‘light’ be able to penetrate into the dark of the hurt and pain so we may truly heal and become who we were destined to be. God bless! ~M)
“Memory” Colored Pencils 4×6 inches ©1986
A little throw back Thursday art from my college days.I believe this was drawn sometime in 1985 or 1986, hence the sunglasses. The above portrait drawing was a quick colored pencil drawing of a girl I used to know. 🙂 She still is that one memory that I cannot seem to shake. I will leave it to you to wonder about the rest of the story.
So, what is your one memory that you cannot shake?
Saturday Night Thoughts – Death
I have been thinking about death a lot recently. But, not in any sort of morbid or evil way. At least I don’t think so, just considering the ramifications of death as it is generally accepted that the bodies of each of us will die physically at some point and cease to function. From a cultural and societal point of view, my mind has been pondering. I speak from experience of being close to the dying process and death. As a young man in my mid-twenties I watched someone very close to me, and the same age, go through the process of dying with a terminal illness, eventually succumbing to the disease. I was there through the diagnosis and holding her hand as I stood beside her bedside when death finally came.
There is an interesting article detailing some cultures rituals regarding death found on PBS.org entitled Death: Cultural Traditions by Judy Huang. Another article on the TED Blog entitled, 11 fascinating funeral traditions from around the globe by Kate Torgovnick May based on the TED talk from Kelli Swazey: Life that doesn’t end with death. All these different rituals and customs from different cultures are fascinating in and of themselves. It has gotten me to thinking about our American society and our view and rituals towards death.
American culture seems to me to be more of one that often says, the best thing you can do with death is to ride off from it. (P.S. – I borrowed that line from the book, and movie, Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry.) Is this an American societal acceptance that you (basically I am speaking about men, here) never let others know the impact of death? We attend a funeral, dressed in black, speak reverently of the dead and then we go back to our normal lives.
As is observed in other cultures there are no rituals in America that lasts from days to months allowing those grieving to celebrate the life of the deceased and come to terms with the death of a loved one. We put on a solemn appearance for a couple of hours one afternoon to attend a funeral and/or memorial service and that seems to be it. We applaud and congratulate those who go back to work the next day and appear to get on with their lives immediately after the loss. We say they have an inner strength and are impressed with how well they are dealing with the dying part of life.
I am not saying we should wallow or stay in our grief, but the fact that others often simply chose to ignore what has happened seems absurd. We are not allowed to grieve, or celebrate the life and death, of a loved one unless it is done in private or as part of a larger scheduled and manipulated public event. Again, not that these are bad things, they offer a community of support. But the individual grieving process is not to be shared publicly, especially by men, just move on. Is that because we are uncomfortable with others grief and pain? It takes a strong person to face their own mortality, and that of the ones they love, not shying away from the reality. I believe there are worse things than dying.
I understand this is a rambling post and I thank you for sticking me with to the end. But hey, that is what my posts, Saturday Night Thoughts, are all about. A complete willingness to go wherever my thoughts might take me even when I may not want to go there. Thanks for going along on the ride with me. Now what are your thoughts?