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What Brought Me Here? Revised Version

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  • doris.cott
    I don t remember what brought me here to this site but I would like to thank those who made and make it still possible for us to express ourselves honestly
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 25, 2011
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      I don't remember what brought me here to this site but I would like to thank those who made and make it still possible for us to express ourselves honestly although it might not always be 'perfect' - at least in my case.

      I find myself reflecting and reflecting instead of studying. Why? There are so many things happening at the moment...or maybe there is an opening of a new horizon inside me going on others might have experienced long ago.

      Mother Earth seems to shake herself to wake us up.

      Often I still find myself reacting on impulse which does not make me get flowers in return. Again and again I am reminding myself to keep quiet but it seems as soon as I turn around I have spoken up.

      But lately I find myself reflecting and reflecting. It feels good but still I don't have answers to appearances I should look beyond.

      I am praying for inner silence and more wisdom. One wisdom-road lies always ahead of us...and I am really trying to walk and not look right and left.

      Yet my heart yearns for expressing myself. Misunderstandings there are a lot to the extent that sometimes I wish to keep silent to the end of my life.

      I do find answers to my questions in other people's writings. Ever so sensitive and wise they have already expressed what I am trying in vain to do.

      Read this poem which is actually a reworded Christmas carol but it says it all:

      Some Children See Him (reworded)

      Some children see Him lily white,
      the child Savior born this night.
      Some children see Him lily white,
      with tresses soft and fair.
      Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
      the Lord of heav'n to earth come down.
      Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
      with dark and heavy hair.

      Some children see Him almond-eyed,
      this Savior whom we kneel beside.
      Some children see Him almond-eyed,
      with skin of yellow hue.
      Some children see Him dark as they,
      sweet Madal to whom we pray.
      Some children see him dark as they,
      and, ah! they love Him too!

      The children in each different place
      will see the child Madal's face
      like theirs, but bright with heavenly grace,
      and filled with holy light.
      O lay aside each earthly thing
      and with thy heart as offering,
      come worship now Madal the King.
      'Tis love that's born tonight!

      * * *

      It is consoling and relieving to know I am NOT indispensable. My gratitude goes out to all those who make me feel I can 'take a rest' while they are doing the hard work of carrying heavy weights on their shoulders that would make me crush in a second. I wish I had established more wisdom as expressed in this poem. I am learning...

      Doris
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