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1/14/2013

Wish you to write a web of wonderous whimsicals to wittle away the sorry worries of the world? I would be delighted to hear from you here ^___~ Just add a comment, my friends, and the bubbles of troubles will end.

4 Comments

Dad link

1/14/2013 21:13:14

Interesting site. Interesting pictures. looks good keep up the good work.

Diana

1/15/2013 12:55:51

Thanks Dad ^__~ I think it's working fine, as all your posts are there. *lol* Hope you and mum are well! Love you!!!!

Dad link

1/14/2013 21:22:04

I think your blog is working fine! Nice gallery.

Yvonne link

8/23/2013 14:34:43

As always, you inspire Diana. I thought of your today and your compassionate heart and wanted to share a moment I had today...hoping to end bubbles of trouble...

I walk in the morning and have recently begun the practice of contemplative prayer. In this week of August, I have much to be thankful for as I walk; both of my children were born in this summer month though the number of years ago can probably go unmentioned. Each has flourished professionally and personally; as human beings they excel. They have become parents and surpassed my parental offerings. What more can I ask....but today as my feet fell on the path, through gratitude filled my heart for the blessings of my children and my grandchildren, my feet were heavy. Each step heavier than the last. Then I recognized my walking companion today was grief. Each foot fall heavy. Slapping the path with anger at the recent atrocities in Syria against children and their families. I found myself longing for all woman of the world to hear my foot falls, each step, not in anger, rather in compassion. For if there is anything I know, anger breeds more ― A festering that is difficult to heal.

I also know something about woman. They have a special compartment in their heart for compassion. A capacity for compassion that is unsurpassed. I noticed the fall of my feet slowing and becoming more gentle. What seems unbearable can be born, together.

Tomorrow, I walk. I will contemplate. I will long for the women of the world to hear my feet falling compassionately on the path. Whether aunt, sister, mother, daughter, niece, grandmother, great-grandmother, or friend, no matter where we are in this world, where our feet fall, we are woman with compassionate hearts. As long as our hearts beat, compassion is ours to cultivate and share; a healing balm of love. If it feels right in your heart, join me. Walk a path or in your heart. My walk will be dedicated to: Peace. Blessed Peace. As it is Above, it is Below.
Be Blessed, Yvonne

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