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RAKs
The snow collects the good with the bad, as can be seen when it melts. This blog is my snow, holding onto my experiences.
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| RAKs |
| 11.29.06 (2:07 pm) [edit] |
This would be funny or perhaps witty if it were heard, not read, yet I'll continue:
The only RAK of mine you'll see are my Random.Acts.of.Kindness. It'd be funnier if I were busty. There's been a lot of kindness and love around and through me lately. May be attributed to Sunday's sermon. dunno. I've felt in my element and a lot more like myself this week than for at least months. I kind of felt like something was off, but didn't really see it clearly until I saw what had been missing. I think the me that was stagnant was the considerate, semi-outspoken side of me. Sometimes it is good to say obvious things, like, "I appreciate you." or love. or like. hate? not so much- that tends to be more blatant- don't normally have to repeat that to get it through. One thing about having such great friends and boyfriend is that it makes it harder for me to fathom anyone settling. There are some people that treat their 'loved ones' like crap (I'm not excluding myself). That sucks. Who do we think we are? Even if someone 'deserves' to be treated that way, when does it stop? I've been thinking about love and kindness- and the great big effects it can have on the world. It seems like it can just spin out- and pretty soon, so many hurts will be fixed, and there will be smiles and flowers everywhere. What's stopping that? Selfishness? Hurt? Greed? Incapability to accept love? to pass it on? I don't know exactly what it is, but I've often found myself as the recipient of love- but sometimes, I just revel in it- and don't even bother to think about others who could benefit as well- it's like a survival strategy. Hold onto it- it might be the last time I get that love. So wrong. It's crazy how the same thing happens throughout life- like this love thing. I learned this lesson long ago. Basically the butterfly metaphor- grab onto it, and you crush it wings and it dies (or at least falls). Let it rest on your palm, and it can fly on to others and continue living. I've let that butterfly soar recently. there's me tooting my own horn.
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