Monthly Archives: December 2016

December 4, 2016

Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 4 December 2016

By Kat Myrman


I really do believe the last line in this week’s Shi Sai. Nothing compares to love. Love is quite complex. As the song says, “It is a many splendored thing”. Love is a big deal. As I consider love, and my own personal calling to be more loving in this challenging time, I realize that the dysfunctional reality of family of ours as a “united nation” is no longer something we can hide or hide from.

There are several types of love I discovered when I did a bit of research. The ancient Greeks gave us several types of love to consider:

Eros (sexual passion or desire, considered by some to be dangerous or irrational),

Philia (deep friendship, a more highly prized type of love and also equated with a term called storge which is associated with the love parents have for their children), 

Ludus (playful love or affection between children or young love, associated with flirting and and also fun between friends, joking and dancing), 

Agape (love for everyone, the most radical love of all associated with selflessness and charity), 

Pragma (longstanding love, considered a mature love that is exemplified by long-married couples who have perfected the art of patience, tolerance and compromise) and

Philautia (self-love and compassion – Aristotle described philautia thusly: “All friendly feelings for others are an extension of a man’s feelings for himself.”)

So what does all this mean? Most importantly, what does it mean for me personally, especially when I am hurt or beset with conflict, can I still I declare in all sincerity “love overcomes hate”?

The truth is that I have the capacity for each of these types of love. If I truly believe in the power of love, deepening my understanding of each nuance, each facet, equips me to respond when I am struggling. i have the ability to grow as a person when i am willing to see where I am lacking. The Greeks have created a wonderful roadmap and I know of another too…

1 Corinthians 13
English Standard Version (ESV)

13-If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2-And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3-If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,[a] but have not love, I gain nothing.

4-Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant 5-or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;[b] 6-it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. 7-Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

8-Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. 9-For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10-but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.11-When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. 12-For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

13-So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Yep, I really do believe the last line of this Shi Sai. Be kind to one another this week. Love and peace to you.

Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 4 December 2016

all woman-girls who recall
frosted roses fade
it’s where dreams are born
“You’ll do,” she thought.
I remember a flood
fallout from Faustian pacts…
Your fruits have been many but you have lost yourself and are fading as we speak
nothing compares to love

~kat

7 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in Digital Art & Photos, Essays, Life Lessons, Random Thoughts and Musings, Social Issues, Spirituality, Week in Review

December 3, 2016

love is all

By Kat Myrman

For this week’s Magnetic Poetry Saturday Challenge by Elusive Trope’s of Specks and Fragments.

love is all.png

keep your heart open to
the promise of love
for it is the truest
emotion you can know…
nothing compares to love

kat ~ 3 December 2016
(Magnetic Poetry the Love Kit)

8 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Magnetic Poetry

December 2, 2016

Corabelle and the Enchanted Tree

By Kat Myrman

759px-old_french_fairy_tales_0008

This is the story of a very good girl named Corabelle. She was the most perfect daughter, sister and friend that a body could wish for. If ever anyone needed something, Corabelle was the first person they called, for she was exceedingly loyal and giving. To a fault, some might say, but it made her happy to serve. When others were happy, Corabelle was happy.

And so it went for years and years, until the day poor Corabelle found herself in need. A life of serving without stopping to care for herself had taken its toll. She cried for help to no avail.

“Who are you?” her friends and family all said, “I’m much too busy to help you today.”

After being rejected by nearly everyone she knew Corabelle was beginning to wonder too. “Who are you?” she asked herself. In her current state, with nothing to give, she felt useless.

She noticed an old woman carrying a bundle and begged her, “Please ma’am, I have no money to pay you, but I am so tired and hungry. Is there something you can spare, a bit of bread or fruit perhaps?”

“Oh dear girl, as you can see, I have nothing but these rags to keep the wind from nipping my weary bones, but I know a tree that grows at the edge of town. You will recognize it because it has no leaves, but one of every variety of fruit grows from its red branches.”

“How can that be? I’ve never heard of such a tree.”

“Oh, but you have. You yourself are like that tree. You have spent your life giving, being all things to all people. Your fruits have been many but you have lost yourself and are fading as we speak.”

“How do you know this?” Corabelle queried.

“The tree sent me to tell you. It heard your question.”

“My question?  Who are you?”

That is the question, “Who are you?” the old woman replied.

Corabelle thought it strange, but she was intrigued. “I should like to meet this tree,“  she said.

“Very well,” the old woman answered, pointing the way.

When Corabelle saw the tree, she was filled with deep compassion. It looked so overburdened with fruits of every kind hanging from its limbs. Just as the old woman said, it reminded her of herself. “What kind of tree are you?” Corabelle asked.

“I don’t know,” sighed the tree, “I don’t even know if I am a tree, or a vine, or a bush. If someone wished for an apple, I became a tree, or if another wanted a grape I became a vine. As you can see, I am twisted and wilting away to nothing, except for these heavy fruits clinging to my bare branches. And worst of all, no one wants my fruit anymore.”

“Well, I certainly do! I would love a piece of your fruit if you don’t mind!” Corabelle reached for the apple and snapped it from the tree.

In an instant, the other fruit fell from the branches and leaves sprouted every which way where there had been none. “Thank you Corabelle!” the tree exclaimed,”I remember who and what I am now. I am a tree, an apple tree to be exact.”

Corabelle smiled happily, taking a bite of the apple. For the first time in her life she felt what it was like to receive. It felt good. Not as good as giving, but very good indeed.

kat ~ 2 December 2016

A bit out of practice doing micro…so longer, but hopefully intriguing enough to keep one’s attention. This is my entry for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge this week based on the illustration by Virginia Frances Sterret that you see above. Happy Friday to you.

33 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Flash Fiction, Life Lessons, Short Stories (300+ Words)

December 2, 2016

Faustian – Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku

By Kat Myrman

faustian

TGIF! That’s all I can say! It’s been a rough several weeks for many of us. And it gets crazier each and every day! Today’s Dictionary.com Word of the Day is another of those blasted words that has a poignant parallel to current events. Last week I dodged the bullet, so to speak, and refused to apply the theme of my haiku to the obvious. But there is no way around it this week…Faustian…how else does one explain the madness that we are currently witnessing?

Dictionary.com defines Faustian as

  1. sacrificing spiritual values for power, knowledge, or material gain: a Faustian pact with the Devil. or
  2. of, relating to, or characteristic of Faust: a Faustian novel.

But it is the origin of the word that truly sent me over the edge…

Johann Faust (c1481–c1541), Latinized as Johannes Faustus, was an itinerant German alchemist, astrologer, magician, and thaumaturge. Legend has it that even though he was very successful, he became dissatisfied with his life and with the limits of human knowledge and therefore sold his soul to the Devil for limitless knowledge and pleasure for a limited time—the Faustian bargain. Faust in German means ”fist”; faustus in Latin means ”of favorable omen, auspicious.”

I know I don’t need to mention it, but it bears repeating, especially since many of you are not from the U.S. Just in case you might be wondering if I am one of those insane persons in the minority who dealt our country a lethal blow last month by voting for, well, you know who. At any rate, here goes…

I did NOT vote for Trump.

That being said, as much as I might want to scream from the rooftops, “He is not my president; he will NEVER be MY president!” I am reminded that the angry minority that voted for him thought that very same thing about my President these last eight years, misinformed and misguided though they may have been. They voted recently, many of them – especially those who claim to be Christians – by selling their soul, in true Faustian fashion, turning a blind eye to his misogyny, racism, privileged, narcissistic, bullying and lying behavior because basically, they were “mad” at a government that they believed was not serving their self-righteous needs. Oops sorry…too harsh? Oh well.

Apparently I am still stinging from the betrayal of many of my friends and family who voted for this monster. In my heart of hearts I know that they are not all those awful things that define the man that they voted for. And while I have admonished myself to be forgiving I am finding that this is an ongoing inner battle that I must fight each and every time I hear another one of his outrageous lies or his announcements of each vile cabinet appointment. “What were they, those who voted for him, thinking?” I think…

Taking a deep breath.

Like it or not, he is THE president-elect. Forgiving those I love for their error (IMHO of course) will, I’m sure, continue to be a thorn in my side, but one that I am determined to press through because I do love them.

As for my country? Just because I forgive the generally nice people who were blinded by his skulduggery, does not mean that I will not continue to stand for justice with every ounce of my being. It’s a fine line we walk, those of us who are awake. But the future depends on it.

Peace and LOVE to you all…kat

“We the People” reap
fallout from Faustian pacts…
elections matter!

kat ~ 2 December 2016

4 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Essays, Haiku, Life Lessons, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Social Issues, Spirituality, Word of the Day Haiku

December 1, 2016

Seasoning – Part 19

By Kat Myrman

The Kiss by Edvard Munch 1897


Hannah smiled softly as she watched Henry eat. He had finished everything on his plate and was helping himself to more when he noticed her gaze. This time she didn’t look away.

His eyes softened as they met hers, “You’re not eating Hannah. Here I am filling my plate for a second time and you haven’t had a bite. Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine. It’s perfect.” Hannah said softly, reaching across the table.

Henry set the ladle down and reached for her, taking her hand in his. “Hannah…” he whispered.

“Shhhhh, don’t say a word Henry,” Hannah slid her fingers through his, sighing as she felt his warmth.

“Hannah, I just wanted to…”

“Shh…” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I need to know this is real Henry. If this is a dream, please don’t wake me.”

Henry stood up and bent down on one knee next to her. He brushed her eyelids with his lips and stroked her hair as he whispered in her ear, “If it is a dream Hannah, then I am afraid I am dreaming too.”

Hannah looked at him, at those eyes of his. They were so tender and so strangely familiar, “I don’t know what’s happening…”

“Shhhh…Hannah. Right now I am thinking that I want to kiss you. Would that be alright? If I kissed you?”

Hannah nodded, closing her eyes, tilting her face toward his as he lifted her up from her chair, pulling her close, his hands resting on the small of her back. She felt his breath as he moved closer, kissing her forehead, her cheeks and finally her lips, tenderly at first, but then as Hannah surrendered with an intensity that left them both trembling, clinging to one another.

Henry pulled away slightly and looked lovingly into her tear-filled eyes, “This is very real Hannah.”

“Oh Henry, yes…yes it is. I’ve dreamed of this moment my whole life. It’s you that my heart has been longing for isn’t it? It’s really you.”

“Yes, my dear, sweet Hannah, it’s me. I have dreamed about you too and now I’ve found you, just as I promised I would. Do you remember? It was another lifetime ago I think. It’s the only explanation because here we are…here you are. I remember holding you once before…”

“And there was a flood. I remember a flood. I was looking into your eyes as everything around me started to fade. Yours were the last words I heard. You said…”

“I will always love you…I will always love you…” Henry brushed the tears from Hannah’s cheeks. “I don’t understand any of this either Hannah. All I know is that I loved you once and I can’t help but think this is our chance to be together again.” Henry tightened his embrace. “Kiss me again Hannah. Now I’m the one who needs convincing that this is not a dream.”

“It is a dream Henry. A dream come true,” Hannah stood on her toes, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him softly. “You know, I could get used to this,” she smiled, her eyes flashing coyly.

“I hope so. Because I am never letting you go.”

———————————-

To read previous installments of this story click HERE and scroll down to the section titles “Seasoning”. This is a fiction series originally prompted by Jane Dougherty‘s Microfiction Challenge.

7 Comments   |  tags: , | posted in Fiction Series