Peace and Valentines

Sometimes it can be difficult to create inspiration and this week, it seems, I couldn’t feel farther from it. It could be the residual effects of last week’s illness, and it could be the waning moon who’s fullness kept us awake several nights this weekend. It could be the fact that we are destined for many more weeks of cold and snow, but there is something else too.colouring1

There are times when the radio in the morning is what motivates me, and there are times, like this week, when my protective bubble, my layer of the- world- is- falling- to- pieces repellent has worn too thin to protect my rose -coloured heart. I normally follow my ‘no news’ rule of thumb; it drags me away from the peaceful life I am trying to create for my family. I know that there is plenty to worry about without needing to hear it on repeat: every. half. hour. This week, I’ve made that mistake. I’ve listened, and I haven’t like what I’ve heard.colouring2

The way that grown people speak to each other, mainly via social media, makes me sick. We preach messages of tolerance and peace to our children, but we behave wretchedly. We whisper sweet nothings in the ears of our babes as they fall asleep each night, reminding them of their magic. We do our best to model kindness in our everyday actions, but there is something about a glowing screen that makes us lose our connection with who we are and what we are striving for. We crucify each other for the ways they differ from us. We don’t tolerate. We don’t seek peace. We just shout from our timelines our secret beliefs and why our friends should feel the same. We don’t reach for growth. It saddens me. It saddens me that this is the way of the world.

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I can imagine our grandparents were all too familiar with this feeling. This ‘what is this world coming to’ line that we keep on repeat is something I’m supposed to say when I’m old, but I feel it everyday. Why can’t we believe in good. Why can’t we create good. Why can’t we show kindness and love. Why can’t we know freedom the way we know the months of the year. It’s something that everyone is entitled to, but very few can truly say they have.colouring3What about you? Do you know freedom?

xo

HayMama

About hay mama

an artiste (pronounced with an 'eeste') tackling a multitude of works, mother raising three kiddos, lover of books, seeker of knowledge, consumer of great coffee, follower of nature, lover and friend to my one and only...

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