“Kindness and compassion towards all living things is a mark of a civilized society. Conversely, cruelty, whether it is directed against human beings or against animals, is not the exclusive province of any one culture or community of people. ”
This is not going to be like my other posts, there are no intricate sentences weaving dreamlike thoughts of life, this post just is.
I have always held the belief that a society should be judged on how they treat their innocents, children and animals, two beings almost completely at our mercy – physically as well as many times mentally, spiritually and emotionally.
Lately, more and more cases of child abuse, rape and murder have been reported, and the number of cases of sick animal abuse and exploitation have shot up. Is our society rotting from the core? What can be done to stop, or at least help? Why is this happening?
The following pictures and videos may disturb you, I know they disturb me. Though, this is the truth of animal abuse. This cannot be sugar coated, this is a cancer of our society that must be cut out. (I focus on animal abuse mainly in the post simply for the fact animals strongly resonate with my heart)
“When you have come to the edge Of all light that you know And are about to drop off into the darkness Of the unknown, Faith is knowing One of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on or You will be taught to fly”
The sun has set and the dark night creeps in, children play on the street.
I sit in the dimly lit room, candle light flickers against the bare white walls. Tears form in my eyes until they cascade down my cheeks. I try to connect, I am trying, I cry out loud “please help, please give me the strength”. I walk my days at times with the world weighing on me, the passing traffic of people flood me with their grief and pain. How do I learn to close myself to others emotional baggage? I can hardly walk in the city at times, panic attacks strike me, I forget how to breath, how to walk, who am I?
Where has compassion gone? Many say oh it is still there, yet at times I fail to see it. The passing people consumed in their own world, what they are having for lunch, what they are going to do tomorrow, the next day and the next.
We judge others simply for their beliefs not on the merit of being a good person despite their god or way of worship. Why is it so hard for people to see through that? Ignorance blinds, deafens and kills.
Cicadas screech in the humid air, across the horizon the city brushes the heavens, in the corner of my room bags sit, half packed. The setting sun filters through the silk drapes, illuminating the room in its life. I gaze at the bags, they are in some ways my safety net. All my belongings can fit in to them, easily dragged behind me through the sprawling airports across the globe.
Peace, in the sense of the absence of war, is of little value to someone who is dying of hunger or cold. It will not remove the pain of torture inflicted on a prisoner of conscience. It does not comfort those who have lost their loved ones in floods caused by senseless deforestation in a neighboring country. Peace can only last where human rights are respected, where people are fed, and where individuals and nations are free. – The XIVth Dalai Lama
I hold in my hand a new book, at the back of the crowded bus I secretively sniff the pages as the hot evening sun filters through the windows and the faint moon patiently waits in the cloudless sky. This moment in time now carved into my past along with the countless other daily emotions I experience.
In my 18 years of life, from concious memory – I remember no time without terrorists, wars, bombings, conflicts, tears, pain and immense global suffering. At this very second I feel so far removed from it all, walking through the humid air of the evening, yet it is all around me. From the violence and sufferings that has happened in my own life, I have learned if not one thing; this too shall pass.
Change is ever present and all around us, it is the only constant and inevitable cycle.
To change something on such a global spectrum will take time, yet ticking time goes by so fast. Not just time, it will also take people to wake up, to stand up and and to speak the truth – and it will probably not be said through words.
“Personal growth has its price, and she was paying it without complaint.” – Paulo Coelho, Veronika Decides to Die
Cicadas screech in the humid air, jolting me back to existence. Footprints of my journey cast into the white sands, the gentle tides washes them away. I am at a point in my life where there is great change, new beginnings and a universe of lessons.
Many of my days are spent floating in and out of conciousness, at times the black hole of the city swallows me whole.
At the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with ones lost self. – Brendan Francis
The pale blue sky stretches in to eternity above me, the moon faintly forms a crescent and the sun sets to the west. An aeroplane flies past, it almost seems fake, unrealistic as it glides to the pink clouds. “I wonder where they are going? Who’s on board” I muse to myself.
Through out my life I have been there, gliding thousands of feet above the reality below. If not a majority of each year was spent shuffling through one airport to the next. It has become my comfort zone, I walk through airports, with the lost travellers looking for direction, foreign languages intoxicate the air, I feel at peace.
A huge sense of relief spreads through me as I sit in the lounges, coffee in hand, jet lagged and exhausted. The exhaustion turns into my fuel, a promise of a new adventure, a new beginning my drug.
For the majority of my life, I have been neither here nor there, running away from my past and myself. With the thick humid air of the deserts that stretch beyond me, I flutter.
It is only when you are lost, that you can find yourself.
“Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” ― Albert Einstein
Pink clouds stretch across a deep orange sky as the sun set, in that moment all simply is. Trees gently sway in the whispering breeze, crickets welcome the oncoming night. I look to the skies above and sigh.
What is reality?
Since I can remember I have felt this strange sensation; am I really awake? What if I was simply in a deep sleep and woke realising this, my whole life was a dream. What if time, was an illusion and your life as you perceive it was a carefully constructed and intricate lie?
It can be difficult to speak about such things in words, as the truth just is, it is speechless, its felt rather than heard and known rather than learnt. Yet something that can be said as well as felt; our perception of time is speeding up, people are ‘awakening’, asking questions and allowing their essence to be heard. More and more people are tuning in to their conciousness, to their vibration, or whatever else you know it as.
Yet many people are like ants, carrying out functions unknown to them in a daze of reality and a haze of city fumes, their essence in a deep slumber, their own mind blinding them.
Now stars cover the dark ink sky like a mosaic, cicadas sing in the humid air and bats screech. Another night will pass, escaping our grasp.
“The Greek word for “return” is nostos. Algos means “suffering.” So nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return.” – Milan Kundera
As the city lights glimmer a mosaic of stars scatter across the dark sky, rain hits the pavements whilst people take cover under umbrellas and soggy newspapers. The moon is almost full and its hypnotic energy seduces the bustling streets.
My heels pound against the wet cobblestone road, my eyes follow passing travellers, I search for the rich smell of coffee and the meaning behind all that is life.
Some nights the collective force of every person seems to haunt the nights sky, a lighting bolt of energy pulsing through my veins, holding a nostalgic memory or a feeling that is universal. I yearn to return to wherever it is where I am from, no matter what country or city my body wonders, I yearn for something just slightly out of reach.
Thunder jolts me back to the physical reality, people jump with fright and smile, the drizzling rain continues.
Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.
“You aren’t a bad person.” she says looking at me, taking a puff of the cigarette in hand, beyond the cafe balcony traffic thundered past, and the thick, humid air hung over the passing people like a blanket.
“My actions where wrong though, its not even the action – it’s the thought process” I reply, my eyes glancing over the cocktail menu, things had progressed quickly from coffee to cocktail jars.
Chandeliers hung from the ornate ceiling, the walls painted in a deep red that flaked of age, music seduced the dimly lit rooms.
“I just don’t think you’re a bad person” she shrugged to me as she faced the waiter to order. “Everyone is capable of being a bad person … it’s about acknowledging it” I answer, handing my menu back to him.
I light another cigarette and look to the bustling streets below. “I have seen violence so much growing up.. Maybe I’m just used to it, that’s why I resort to it when things get too much”. Her eyes examine my face “I don’t think you are like that. Not everyone becomes what they came from”.
Man stands in his own shadow and wonders why it’s dark – Zen Proverb
The Sun sets casting deep pinks and burnt oranges across the horizon, as the turquoise tides caress white sands. I sit under a swaying palm, digging my feet into the scorching sand, my dress clings to my body in the sweltering heat and the humid air is thick.
Lately I feel the tides of my mind have been calming, a new age appears inside, where I would drowned in the past I am learning to swim and float. The ripples of progress and self improvement are reaching far, and I can see them extending to my relationships – with myself, others and the world around me.
Iced water drips on my hand from my cocktail, the sky is illuminated in the suns light, time ticks by as another night escapes my grasp.