Words from the Heart

Photo Credit: " Peace dove ". Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons . I have often written about the importance of Peace, but I am realizing that sometimes our words are simply not enough to make change.  We must act.  Let me give you an example. If a person stands at the edge of the sea, sees someone drowning and yells, "Swim," he or she will not make a big difference in whether or not that person drowns.  But, if he or she finds something to throw to that person to hang onto or swims out to rescue them or gets in a boat, rowing out to pull them to safety, his or her actions can make a difference. Simply saying, "We should be peaceful," no longer is enough.  We must act to stop the hegemony of this world.  We must write to our congress people and our leaders, demanding that they stop supporting the oppressors.  We must, in our day to day actions, show others how to live peacefully. So, what does this look like?  Let me...

January 20: John F. Kennedy is inaugurated as the 35th President of the United States. (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) I was all of eight years old when John Fitzgerald Kennedy was sworn into office as our 35th President.  The one thing I remember most was that Robert Frost , another New Englander, read a poem - the first ever read at an inauguration.  From that day on, Robert Frost was one of my favorite poets.  In an article on the Poets.org site, I learned that Frost, presented the President with a manuscript copy of the poem "Dedication," which he was not able to read at the inauguration due to the glare of the sun. He wrote on it, " 'Amended copy. And now let us mend our ways.' He also gave the President the advice: 'Be more Irish than Harvard. Poetry and power is the formula for another Augustan Age. Don't be afraid of power.' At the foot of the typed thank-you letter Kennedy sent, he wrote, 'It's poetry and power all the way!'...

Angel of Grief (Photo credit: eklektik2xs ) I have spent the last two days trying to wrap my head around the horrific tragedy that took place, not more than 200 miles from our home.  As a writer, I felt called to write something...but nothing came. As a mother and grandmother, I felt called to say something...but nothing came.  As a seminarian, I felt called to do something...and, when the moment came, I did what felt best. I hugged those closest to me; I told those, who I could not hug, that they were loved; and I sat down to share this on my blog. Someone said to me, yesterday, that the world has become crazier.  I responded, after a brief pause with, "No it hasn't, we just hear about the craziness quicker and more often, now.  The world has always been this crazy."  Think about it...50 years ago, we had to wait at least 24 hours to hear about a major event happening in the US, it took even longer if the event was somewhere overseas.  Today, not onl...

Photo credit: Microsoft Clip Art The premise of this blog is to share the beauty of words, however; we often need to be able to compare the opposite in order to appreciate truly the beauty. Words are not always beautiful. They can cut deeper than a surgeon's scalpel; destroy someone's life faster than a natural disaster; and leave them with scars that last longer than time itself. Verbal abuse is the worse form of abuse because while the pain runs deep, it is invisible. As an abuse survivor, it has taken me many years to realize that the words that were yelled, thrown, hurled my way did not have anything to do with me. I was not those words. It was a long and often painful journey to this discovery. Gratefully, it is one that I can now share without fear, hoping that others will benefit from my discoveries. One of my earliest and most painful memories was being told that I was never going to be "pretty" because of a scar I have on my shoulder and my broken nose. ...