Memories are short,
The good, all but forgotten,
Only anger and selfishness stand tall in the foreground of now;
Efforts in caring blur before eyes unfocused,
Seen only by the heart of the giver,
Appreciated so briefly by those to whom it is given ….
and the soul becomes weary.
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This entry was posted by Leigh
on Saturday, December 14th, 2002 at 8:16 pm and is filed under Emotionally Speaking, Rants and Rambles, Whispers.
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About The Author
Hi there, and welcome to Thoughtprints. My name is Leigh (well, actually that's my middle name) and I am a Colorado native, born and raised. I began Thoughtprints almost 6 years ago when I needed an outlet, and this blog became exactly that for me. This is where I vent my frustrations, share my feelings and talk about everything from current events around the world to the things my dogs do to make me laugh. I truly hope you enjoy your time here.
Let your weary soul rest in the comfort of angel wings, then feel the incredible beauty of just being alive…just being YOU!
((((angel hugs))))
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Paradoxically, it seems that the soul is sometimes in need of a deepening weariness
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*sigh*
it reminds me of a story about kafka and his father… my english is probably not good enough for me to tell it, but i’ll try anyway.
do you know his story? it is terrible. his father was as mean as one could be… one day he went to kafka and said he’d gotten a wooden piece where he was going to hammer a nail every time kafka did something bad or mean. months later it was completely full. not one hammer would fit on the wooden piece anymore. so he said to kafka that he’d been evil enough and that it was time for him to do some good-action to fix all harm he’d caused. and kafka spent months trying to please his father being as good as he could. many months later his father came to him holding the empty wooden piece in his hands. he said - look, you’ve been so good that you finally managed to fix the bad things you’ve done. it’s clean now. then kafka looked at the wooden piece, which was full of little marks on the place of the nails, then with suspicion he looked at his father and asked - how are you going to remove the marks?
*sigh* did that come out readable? i hope so.
love, monica.
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My Angel,
But … just being me right now is ….. almost impossible. Soon, I hope. 
The wings are wonderful, and very comforting … a reprieve. Thank you so much.
(((((hug)))))
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Mark,
A paradox I’m not sure I fancy much. Some things shouldn’t have to be counter-balanced, don’tcha think? ;) But then again, I suppose the lightness of being always has had its alter, hasn’t it. And that … is what makes the ride so interesting.
Thank you
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Monica,
Not only is it readable, but it makes wonderful sense … and resonates deeply. I can’t thank you enough for sharing it with me … and for being my friend.
Love,
Leigh
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Take your time, my friend. Rushing never did anybody any good. When it comes to Spiritual growth, the pace is slow. That’s just the way it is.
Much love and Hugs,
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