I have tried to go back over my past, most reflected upon childhood, emotional wounds, the scars that you cannot see; yet the pain is there sometimes quiet and other times excruciating. The teenage years found me defective and with no value, not without my trying. I made excellent grades, but not allowed to join any afterschool activities, my mother thought I should be at home cooking and cleaning for the rest of the day. In the sixth grade, she did allow me to join a concert band that would continue through high school, concert and marching band. The reason, my mother was friends with the band directors’ wife… the only reason. This was my life as a teenager, I could go to all of the football games and it allowed me to attend music camps as well. This did not save me! I grew with no treasured possessions mental or physicals. Nonetheless, that was then and this is now.

Today they are so many who are broken down and frightened, yet as humans we are always searching for happiness. We mostly accept our lives young or old; we can pray that our lives have turned out as God planned, if you believe in God. I sometimes wish I were a child again before understanding grew within my brain, birth. Many of us live our entire lives for others, literally. When needed I plug myself into work?

Hate is a terrible emotion, this is the most awful thing and I try to surround myself put up a wall where hate cannot reach me. It does not work for me. The hate and malignant thoughts of others penetrate the wall, the thin skin and embeds itself deep within my soul. I cannot forget the hate that I have suffered at the hands of others. However, I cannot change them, so I pray for them. The willingness to change their behavior is ignored. As humans, we need the courage to accept them for what they are; the goal is to bring manic dramas into our lives. The fingerprints of hate has been embedded upon my psyche since childhood, I try not to respond to it, they want you to feel the pain at all cost we must try to fight it be aware, be mindful for these are struggling souls, they are precious. God is my defense.

When all this occurs, we must create a new vision for ourselves, lift our eyes and hands to the heavens and do the best we can.



*A collection of thoughts for a new book

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Everyone has a past and everyone has memories. I am currently working on a project of a series of five books, a biography of the lives of myself and of those that are relatives. This post and others will consist of my thoughts on many subjects. My poetry will have to sit on the back burner so to speak, as this is an undertaking that will span a year or more.

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2 thoughts on “Mindful…

  1. Elizabeth, even your prose sounds like poetry. And I admire people who can create visual art, because despite several attempts. I’ve never managed it.
    Thank you for deciding to follow my blog, Bobbing Around. I hope my words will be of service to you for a long time.

    Liked by 1 person

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