girl with eyes too large and
milky teeth fairies must wait
years for in country that…(more)
What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight; it’s the size of the fight in the dog.
My friend adopted an 11-year-old, 17 pound miniature pinscher, Stella, as well as Stella’s senior bestie and brought them home to her regal 85 pound rottweiler mix, Luke.
Stella was deaf and a few weeks earlier had lost an eye in a fight to a much larger dog. Her stitches were still in place when Stella met Luke, who surprisingly accepted the new dogs in his home. However, when Stella came near Luke’s food, he let out a roar that other dogs had always run or cowered from.
Not Stella. She reared up on exceptionally slender legs, stared at Luke with her only eye and growled right back, loud as she could, ready for action. Never-challenged-before, Luke looked shocked as he stared at this fine-boned snack-of-a-senior, and let it go. Though Stella may have been small in stature, her spirit was indomitable.
(Reposted photo by unknown photographer and words by Clarissa Pinkola Estes
We Were Made For These Times
My friends, do not lose heart. We were made for these times. I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world now. Ours is a time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people.
You are right in your assessments. The lustre and hubris some have aspired to while endorsing acts so heinous against children, elders, everyday people, the poor, the unguarded, the helpless, is breathtaking. Yet, I urge you, ask you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit dry by bewailing these difficult times. Especially do not lose hope. Most particularly because, the fact is that we were made for these times. Yes. For years, we have been learning, practicing, been in training for and just waiting to meet on this exact plain of engagement.
I grew up on the Great Lakes and recognize a seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding awakened souls, there have never been more able vessels in the waters than there are right now across the world. And they are fully provisioned and able to signal one another as never before in the history of humankind.
Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with you. Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come from a greater forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless.
In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails.
We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn’t you say you were a believer? Didn’t you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn’t you ask for grace? Don’t you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater?
Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.
What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.
One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity.
Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.
There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.
The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for.
American poet, post-trauma specialist and Jungian psychoanalyst, author of Women Who Run With the Wolves.
You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us.
For excellent reasons, I have neglected my creativity too long so am heeding Mary Oliver’s warning. This sensual life, though compelling, can only expand with what is glimpsed through creativity’s mysterious prism.
Spring appears in waves as
sea of curls return to play –
gold growls sail through blue.
Dogs have very short lives so every day has to be a good day.
Love’s a hitchhiker,
so innocent in its leap
that it doesn’t register
torn seats or sunroofs
but simply hears
come on in
and feels that smile
like a warm winter breeze,
are rarely so simple:
the car must be washed
and trips planned
and changed with the
frequency of newborns’
diapers amidst increasing
conflict till compromise
like a windshield at eighty
against a centennial oak
but love, love is not so
of metal and fuel it
shimmers naked, senses
open to sky and skunk,
blizzards and vistas,
and it’s never
blind but radiant as a star
and enigmatic as a body
after the heart’s
Thank you to the editors of The Tishman Review for first publishing this poem.
Originally received from funding101.org