Behavioral impact is countless

“Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!” Robert Burns

Countless. Our blog challenge for the day. Countless is often defined as being too numerous to count.

Very few things would be countless by my thoughts. If there is an item to count, given the patience and time, those items could be counted. Even the number of a human’s breath. At the time of their death, the breaths could be counted as there was a first breath and a last breath. My thoughts could be counted; again, because I would have a first thought and a last thought.

But the impact of our actions, could indeed be countless. People who have been affected by behavior could pass the resulted impact of that behavior on for generations. From continent to continent. Behaviors vary from cruelty to kindness. From selfishness to sacrifice.

Memorial day is a day to remember those who have passed from us. While those we loved may be gone, we feel their presence by the influence and impact they had on us. Many have lost loved ones to war. Some from hate crimes. Others from illness.

Some of us are who we are today because of some kindness which touched our lives. A person who touches another with an act of kindness may never realize the impact of that one act. There may be a beginning, but as the affect of that action continues, there may not be an end. Therefore, it is countless.

“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” Aesop

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/countless/

Art Gallery in My Mind

“As humans we look at things and think about what we’ve looked at. We treasure it in a kind of private art gallery.” Thom Gunn

My art gallery is in my mind. When I experience a beautiful moment, I linger there. I want to fully embrace it. I want to see it, feel it, smell it, listen to it, and taste it, if possible. My five senses become the colors for my art. Every experience doesn’t get protected in the gallery. Some experiences I remember, but I do not call up the memories. They fade some over time.

Other memories, I protect. They get placed in the art gallery and I visit them often.

Puffing my wedding veil from my face as I try not to cry as my groom is singing the song he wrote for me.

Standing on a pier in Santa Monica and watching the ocean greet the shore, seeing the textures in front of me: foot printed sand, white bubbling crashing waves, blue sky, and the green bluff of land jutting out of it’s mountain perch as it watches the same scene.

Stroking the hair at my husbands temples as he rests his head on my lap. He’d just gotten home from the hospital. As I stroke his temples, I note the gray that is beginning to appear. Life moves on and leaves it’s affects on us.

My father walking out on the empty golf course approaching a lone figure, crying in her grief. His arms folding around me, and telling me it will all be okay.

Waking up on the hospital room cot and seeing little white Kids tennis shoes gently tapping the floor as the person rocked to and fro on the other side of of the crib. I sit up on my cot, look over the crib, and discover the shoes belong to my sister who has come to comfort me while there with my infant daughter.

Feeling the hug from my friend when my world was falling apart. Feeling a comfort from him that reached to my soul.

Standing in a castle garden and giving my love to my second husband. Surrounded by nature, flowers, and the breath of spring. All full of hope and promise.

Seeing bright red flowers that grew from the stubborn black lava rock that covered the Big Island in Hawaii. Being so amazed that life could grow out of such hardship. Yet, knowing that to be true in my own life.

These are a few. The gallery is too big to describe all the art which is stored there. One of the beautiful things about this gallery, is that it never closes. I can enter it anytime I wish.

“The sun never sets on my gallery.” Larry Gagosian

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/linger/

Soul Hug

The Post A Day Challenge today was to write a message to someone dear to you, telling that person how much he means to you. However, I could not do that with words. I had to use an object-max of 10 objects- to convey my emotions.

That was not a problem. I only needed one. The object I selected is a painting created by Tomasz Rut entitled: Soul Hug.

soul hug

When I am with Joe, I feel safe, comforted, and embraced. His embrace is not just a physical embrace, but he embraces my soul. The very essence of who I am. He frees me to be me. He makes me feel young and vibrant. He encourages my creativity.

“I have learned that there is more power in a good strong hug than a thousand meaningful words.” Ann Hood

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/the-language-of-things/

Soul Hug

I’m feeling pretty worried and sad as I sit in the hospital coffee shop. My father is down for a lung biopsy as the PET scan had indicated that his esophageal cancer had spread to his lung and bones. I know I am about to lose my last living parent. As a nurse I know the loss would involve pain and suffering.

I am unsure if my hands can hold up my head. They are on either side of my face, covering my eyes as the despair has nearly taken my breath away. Our family had just lost our mother , who died after suffering from Pick’s Disease. Now my father. I remembered that there was a small garden court area at the side of the hospital. I decide perhaps if i sat out there a while my head could clear and I would gather some strength and perhaps some insight as to how to go on.

As I get to the garden a beautiful lady is sitting on a tree bench. I wanted to be alone, but I don’t really feel disappointed. I feel somehow drawn to her.  Then she looks at me, and her smile is so soft, and warm. Her eyes are looking at me with so much compassion I feel my throat constrict and tears well in my eyes.

“Hi, my name is Semesia. Will you sit with me a few moments?” Semesia offered as she gently placed her palm on the bench next to her. “Hi, thank you, I will, but I don’t know if I will be very good company.” I say in return as I sit down beside her. As I sat, I felt an odd energy. Not a tingle really, but some ‘awareness’ that I can’t really describe. It was ethereal.

“I know. Your father is upstairs having more tests. I have been allowed to see you and to encourage you. I know that you have never felt so troubled. You are right, your father will pass. But he will be active until his last couple of days and then he  will be in a coma. You are going to be able to help him. He will feel great love and comfort as you do.

However, the toll on your life will be transforming. I am also to tell you that it will all get worse. Your husband will seek friendship elsewhere. A year after your father passes, you will be divorced from your husband.”

Somehow her words do not knock me off my bench. On some level I think I knew this. I was changing. I was challenging who I had been told to be and discovering who I really was. My husband of 30 years did not like that. It was unsettling to him.

“You have wondered if you are on the right path. Your path to question and seek other ‘truths’ and learn of other cultures. You are doing exactly what you should. While you will experience a couple of years that will be the most challenging in your life, great reward is coming. The freedom you will feel will terrify you at first, but then you will experience its marvels. You will find peace.

Then, I am happy to tell you, that you will have a story book wedding in a castle in Washington State.”

I had never been to Washington. As I was growing into myself, my husband made me feel very bad about myself. I knew helping my father was right, and was determined to continue. I feared the loss of my husband. I was fifty. Who would love me. I had grown up with my husband. How would I ever meet anyone. How would anyone love me, I continued to struggle in my soul.

“I know your struggle. That is why I was allowed to come. My time here is short. Remember, your greatest challenge is in front of you. You will manage it and it will build your strength and your resolve to continue in your quest to become who you really are. And you will do so. It will be your greatest reward. Then your marriage to a wonderful caring man will take you on many fun adventures. From the Castle wedding to voyages, to open conversations and laughter throughout your day. You will no longer have to ‘make fun happen’. It will occur naturally all around you. He will hug your soul.”

She placed her hand on top of mine. And she looked at me-right into my soul. I started to cry. Semesia knew me better than I knew myself. I raised my hands to wipe my eyes and when I opened them, she was gone. I was left with a strange mixture of sorrow and hope.

“Hope is important because it can make the present moment less difficult to bear. If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today.”  Thich Nhat Hanh

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/good-tidings/

Heartbreak

“While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.”    Samuel Johnson

When I would be in a room with other people who were broken hearted, and they shared their stories of what broke their heart, a strange phenomenon occurred-they began to see whose story was worse. Before long a competition of sorts took place. Whose heart was broken the most. And that was when my epiphany occurred. I don’t believe there are degrees of broken hearts. A broken heart is broken. Whatever hit it, the result was on target-the heart broke.

Most of us have experienced heartache at some time in our lives. I used to try and understand what caused the heartache. While that may be helpful, what I found to be the most helpful to a person with a broken heart, was to hug their heart. I learned the cause didn’t really matter, the emotion was the same.

Heartache is sadness.

“Tears are words the mouth can’t say nor can the heart bare”    Joshua Wisenbaker

Kindness

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.” Plato

One day I while I was sitting in church, I was thinking about some of the struggles I was facing at that time. My mother was struggling with dementia, and we were in grief as we watched her disappear before us. I glanced around the congregation and thought about all the struggles people around me must be facing too.

They enter the church and smile, just like I did. They laugh at the light hearted comments, just like I did. But inside my heart was breaking. I wondered how many others had broken hearts too.

I work at a hospital. I have had many days and nights in a hospital ‘on the other side of the sheets’ sort to speak. I know what it is like to have your schedule disrupted, to have pain, to be frightened of the possible outcome, to be confused and to want comfort-not just for your physical pain, but your emotional and spiritual peace. Not a day goes by that I don’t pass people who are coming and going through those hospital halls that I don’t think about what they may be facing. I try and offer comfort where I can…an explanation/directions/smile..anything I might be able to do to wrap some comfort around their heart.

I’ve learned I am not unique to struggles. Everyone has them. They vary in their intensity, and there may be moments of reprieve, but another struggle will come.

So, I want to be kind to people. Kindness leads to thinking outside of myself. If all I can be concerned about is my personal struggle -and how people can help me; I am blinded to the needs around me and how I might help others.

I recently discovered a web site that is private and does not accept any grants or donations, they only accept stories of kindness and post those to inspire others with ideas of things they could do to promote kindness. http://www.randomactsofkindness.org

“Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless” Mother Teresa