I tried to post an item on the Koch brothers and Word Press said some pictures have been blocked to prevent others from tracing my site. (Or words to that effect). Is Word Press protecting them or me?
Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and dates are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.
It reached out to all who care
It is too late to mourn,
You did not know that I exist
You died ere I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
Appears to mesh with Jung’s “Shadow Self.” I’m reblogging to my page on Our Shadow Selves: By kristalhunter
At some level, we spend our energy trying to hide our unresolved issues. We think that if we can keep those negative issues at bay they aren’t apart of who we really are. However, all of our experienced emotions negative and positive are very much apart of us. The feelings that we wish we didn’t have impact us until we face them and move beyond them. When we spend energy trying to ignore feelings we don’t want, we actually end up feeling worse and perhaps without even knowing why.
In stillness, we can recognize our negative feelings without being attached to them. In stillness, we face those issues and they soon cease to have power over us. By clearing out our negative fears we create space and we open a new channel of energy; energy of light and possibility. Finding stillness through meditation will do two things; bring us to a state…
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–Voltaire, quoted by Philip Kapleau, p. 39, The Wheel of Death.
This gallery contains 7 photos.
Originally posted on aspoonfulofsugar337:
If I could turn back the clock and revisit the years The worry and fears would feature less in our lives I would hold your hand tightly and cherish the tears I would be kinder, argue…
Our grandparents live
only in our memories. When we go,
When you go, I go.
Why care if we’re forgot?
As if we never were?
I speak of myself, now.
Why do I care if I am forgot?
As if I never was, never
strove to overcome my limitations,
only partly successsful,
yearning yet afraid.
If truth be told, my heart is shriveled
My children and grandchildren
know this. Perhaps
being forgot is not
so bad after all.
There once was an owl who howled
“Who’s there? Who’s there?”
“It’s your mother, you feather head!” came the reply.
“Catch us if you can,” came others, “we’re your supper,”
and everyone ran off in different directions at once,
for this was an owl who needed glasses, and whose
mother was still feeding him.
Photo by Bethanyk, obtained during my re-blog of her Wise Being of the Night