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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I know a lady who is really and I mean really, (because she meant 'really') really (because she said 'really') "attempting not to give in to hatred" and so I remind, that the hatred is not an out-there thing, it isn't rain or the coming cold, it isn't the acorn clitter-clatter dropping out over there on the patio The hatred, if such a thing there be, lives in you, unfed and forgot. And you can't give in to yourself. Giving in is to another, to something outside. And so, take heart and be reminded that the starved self doesn't wield power over you, it cannot for it is you; a part of you. She says there were "waves of rage" roiling through her. But again, if I might remind. A wave is a quality of other things. It isn't its own thing, per se. It is a pattern, a way some many, many other things behave. And so the wave, too is not in you. The many, many things are in you; they are you but the pattern is no more extant than a song stuck in your head. She said she's packed a "bug out bag" and I would like to say here just one more thing that yes, I agree. Well, sorta yes. If what you mean is to pack a bag, a picnic, a pair of birdwatching spectacles, a bottle of mid-price wine, some fruit, and a sketchpad and go out, and be with the bugs, be on that patio, watch those out-there waves. Bug Out Bag, indeed. :) Step outside. the waves the patio the acorn the birds the wine (I presume) the air the waves come on outside... it's nice out there outside yourself -ShhDragon (for Julie Williams.)
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