A Civil War founded upon religious beliefs and how people should live has spread itself to the European Continent. What happened in Paris, France, was a battle, and an act of war carried out by the Islamic State. That we refused to take the declaration of war seriously in 2014 has resulted in the mass, willful, killing of innocent people, which took place on Friday, the thirteenth of November.
Religion, which oppresses, is like a dictatorship suppressing the inalienable rights of each individual who lives under its umbrella. Unfortunately, these inalienable rights, known as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are also echoed by these totalitarian societies, but they are interpreted differently, and the cultural upbringing displays a life we people in the West are not accustomed to––freedom and individual development find itself caught on the blind side of life.
Hopefully, revelation has broken through the thick skull of false reality we have let descend upon us, and our eyes have been opened to see that not everyone think as we think, act as we act, and desire to live as we live. If this were true, the Islamic State would not exist.
Unfortunately, this clarity is too late for those people who lost their lives in Paris, France on that dreadful evening.
Viva la France!
Here is a beautiful poem that will touch your hearts. In view of all that is happening today, this poem still applies.
Today’s post is a little different. As Rememberance Sunday, I thought I should post something topical, something that will allow us to remember those who died, and what they fought for.
Stay with me God, the night is dark!
The night is cold; my little spark
Of courage dims, the night is long.
Be with me God and make me strong.
I love a game; I love a fight.
I hate the dark; I love the light.
I love my child; I love my wife.
I am no coward. I love life.
Life with its change of mood and shade,
I want to live. I’m not afraid.
But me and mine are hard to part.
O unknown God lift up my heart.
You stilled the waters at Dunkirk
You saved Your servants, all Your work
Is wonderful. Dear God; you strode
Before us down that dreadful…
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Aunty Acid is at it again. I love her wisdom on dealing with the obstacles of life, especially when you’re thrown a curve ball. So whatever life throws at you today, duck so it hits someone else. You don’t have to stand there and take it. You don’t have to start your week out with negativity. So duck and keep walking.
I don’t know when it happen, but I remember reading the MONDAY FUNNIES, one morning and bursting out with laughter. I was hooked on the funnies. Laughter is not typical for me before eleven a.m. If you ask the people very close to me, they will tell you, Pat is usually unapproachable before eleven.
Honestly, as a writer, I find myself experiencing highs and lows. It’s a writer madness that takes hold and motivates me to write what I see as I write about the world I live in during the early morning hours.
Thus, Chris Graham’s, CHRIS THE STORY READING APE’S BLOG has become a necessity in my life. It touches the humor within me, and laughter comes bubbling out.
Recently, Andrew Joyce, an author, sent out a dare, a seventy-nine-words dare to writers and it has been running on Chris’s blog as the Seventy-Nine-Words Story Challenge. Each week, stories are chosen as the best submitted. This week, one of my stories from The Child and The Prophet (a W.I.P.) was among the ones chosen and to be very honest with you that makes me happy.
To read my story and the stories of the other participants, please go to the link below. It’s only 79 words, and drop a line on Chris’s blog and let him know you were there and me too, of course.
Good Evening Everyone,
In the Blog, Course of Mirrors, an article about dreams has been published. Again, this article is something that I would like to share, with you, because we tend to run and hide from that which we don’t understand about ourselves, especially when it deals with our dream world.
I used to host regular dream groups. We did not so much set out to analyse our dreams, but we played with them by engaging with their images, characters and objects. Sometimes we enacted scenes to widen associations and deepen our insights. While there is some excellent literature on working with dreams, a lot of it is boring, misleading and superficial. For me, the main purpose of valuing dreams lies in befriending the unconscious and the bringing to light what is timely and meaningful.
When we have no obvious explanation for events, dreams may bring subtle messages, offering glimpses of dynamics usually hidden from our awareness. A staggering 90 percent of personal and collective psychic dynamics trigger and compel our actions in life, and for good reason. The self-regulating psyche protects us from too much awareness. When encouraged, respected, and left to do its work, much like the immune…
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Here is a beautiful article that I would like to share on Walk On. It fits and I thought you would enjoy it.
My moments of bliss come out of the blue, when I glimpse something moving in a certain way, in a certain light, not ordinary light, but a mysterious light that shines through nature.
Like the day after the sky was veiled by thick curtains of rain and next morning the sun spun its brilliance through the cleansed air, and a warm breeze played through my washing on the line. Such joy, when for an instant my whole attention is timelessly merged with a particular quality of being, transporting me beyond my senses in ways I can’t fathom.
I draw these tricks of light to me, like a collector tends to attract the objects he/she desires. When days or weeks pass without such moments, I feel deprived and nothing quite chimes.
Maybe it’s a rare beauty that takes the mind by surprise and stops time. The washing line reminded me of…
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These puny its have no voices.
Some people call him a harlot’s son; one of his grandmothers was a prostitute. Others say he wasn’t really completely Jewish; the Moabite tainted his bloodline.
Who was this man that respected man’s will to choose; that reached out to the brokenhearted and healed the sick?
What could have possessed him to be mocked, scorned, tortured and then hung on a cross? Could it have been love?
Today, over 2000 years later, some people celebrate his resurrection.
I am one of those people.
Shouts of praise came out of the mouths of the women that found his tomb empty, and I, too, shout with praise, JESUS IS RISEN!
Happy Easter Everyone,