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More Food For Thought

In about 100 years—2123—we will all be buried with our relatives and friends.

Strangers will live in the homes we fought so hard to build, and they will own everything we have today. All our possessions will be unknown and probably in a land fill, including the car we spent a fortune on. Some of our things may survive to end up in the loving hands of collectors.

Our descendants will hardly know who we were, and won’t directly remember us. How many of us today know our grandfather’s father or what he did?

After we die, we will be remembered for a few more years, then we are just a portrait on someone’s bookshelf, and a few years later our history, photos and deeds disappear in history’s oblivion. We won’t even be memories.

If we paused one day to analyze these questions, perhaps we would understand how ignorant and weak the dream to achieve it all was.

If we could only think about this, surely our approaches, our thoughts would change, we would be different people.

Always having more, with no time for what’s really valuable in this life. I’d change all this to live and enjoy the walks I’ve never taken, those hugs I didn’t give, those kisses for our children and our loved ones, those jokes we didn’t have time for. Those would certainly be the most beautiful moments to remember, after all they would fill our lives with joy. And yet most of us waste it day after day with greed and intolerance.

~Anonymous

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Clown Show

I didn’t watch this clown show (I’m strong, but not that strong!), but I understand that the crowd booed every time Christie spoke

I don’t think he’s getting any Repugnant votes.

And Pence still says he will vote for Trump AFTER Trump unleashed a crowd who wanted to hang him.

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Words of Encouragement

“Piglet?” said Pooh.
“Yes?” said Piglet.

“I’m scared,” said Pooh.
For a moment, there was silence.

“Would you like to talk about it?” asked Piglet, when Pooh didn’t appear to be saying anything further.

“I’m just so scared,” blurted out Pooh.

“So anxious. Because I don’t feel like things are getting any better. If anything, I feel like they might be getting worse. People are angry, because they’re so scared, and they’re turning on one another, and there seems to be no clear plan out of here, and I worry about my friends and the people I love, and I wish SO much that I could give them all a hug, and oh, Piglet! I am so scared, and I cannot tell you how much I wish it wasn’t so.”

Piglet was thoughtful, as he looked out at the blue of the skies, peeping between the branches of the trees in the Hundred Acre Wood, and listened to his friend.

“I’m here,” he said, simply. “I hear you, Pooh. And I’m here.”

For a moment, Pooh was perplexed.

“But… aren’t you going to tell me not to be so silly? That I should stop getting myself into a state and pull myself together? That it’s hard for everyone right now?”

“No,” said Piglet, quite decisively. “No, I am very much not going to do any of those things.”

“But-” said Pooh.

“I can’t change the world right now,” continued Piglet. “And I am not going to patronise you with platitudes about how everything will be okay, because I don’t know that.

“What I can do, though, Pooh, is that I can make sure that you know that I am here. And that I will always be here, to listen; and to support you; and for you to know that you are heard.

“I can’t make those Anxious Feelings go away, not really.

“But I can promise you that, all the time I have breath left in my body…you won’t ever need to feel those Anxious Feelings alone.”

And it was a strange thing, because even as Piglet said that, Pooh could feel some of those Anxious Feelings start to loosen their grip on him; could feel one or two of them start to slither away into the forest, cowed by his friend, who sat there stolidly next to him.

Pooh thought he had never been more grateful to have Piglet in his life.

[source]

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