|My beautiful Orchid gift from Mel - Ms Rainbow and Glitter|
I recently read an article "Practicing the Good Heart" and after reading it I thought I should share with my blog readers. The word compassion is mentioned many times. I have never been able to watch those reality TV cop shows as to me, those criminals, that is a person whose life went horribly wrong. Maybe they were wired wrong from birth, maybe their upbringing was not ideal, I don't know, but my compassion for them as a human being is deep and their suffering is not one I think we should get any joy of watching. Please don't get me wrong, I currently can't find the compassion for the people who kidnapped my father and murdered him, that would take a whole lot of meditation, prayer and wine, vodka and lots of Godiva chocolate to find the compassion and that is why I hand that bag of dog poop over to the dear Lord. He's got that one.
If my friends and family were asked to describe me in one word, I would hope that it would be, KIND. My friend in Oregon, Ms. Berta, told me when we first became friends she didn't know how to handle my kindness because with so many people she knew they always expected something in return. She learned that with me it was and is a part of who I am and that she has learned to just accept and appreciate and enjoy. That is all I want, just say thank you, give me hug, make me a cup of tea and spread some sunshine.
I have always tried to see the good in others and sometimes to my own detriment. There have been many times when I have helped friends/family/neighbors/charities the list is endless, that there is bound to be that ONE person that I am going to piss off. Not by anything I have said, but completely based on what I have done. I have learned that by me being kind and helping is going to put someones nose out of joint because after hearing how much help I have been, the focus that once they had has now been taken off them and that little jealousy worm inches its way into their soul.
Recently on Social Media I saw this happen with people I thought were friends. I was taken aback by the abruptness and harshness of words and all because I had been kind. Until last night I would constantly beat myself up over this. I could not wrap my head around as to why can't people just be happy that a friend/family/organization is getting help. Then the light bulb went on. It's not me. It's them, that tiny group of people who will look at others and say "Why them and not me?" instead of "I am so happy for them."
I have no control over people's insecurities. I have no control over how miserable people are within themselves. What I do have control over is that I won't allow those people to dictate to me on whether I should continue to be kind. Being kind and compassionate opens up a level of vulnerability that hurts. It is that wound that never heals. Just when you think you can barely see the scar you knick it again and it is exposed and raw. It is those days that I question whether being me is worth all this scar tissue.
I think living the life of a monk would be great. Living as a recluse where all you have is yourself and your thoughts. No one to invade your space, to hurt you with anger and jealousy. I could take a vow of silence, I do it every night when I am sleeping so no problem there.
When the days become tough and the outside world has slithered its way inside my head and all I want to do is escape retreat to the hills, I find myself walking up the driveway of my cousin's home and I look up and see Adorabalicious running towards me , arms out stretched yelling "Prima, Prima*" and it is then that I say to myself, "Bring it on bitches, I got this".
*Prima is the Portuguese word for cousin.