Jun 27, 2020

6 WHO HAVE YOU BETRAYED WITH YOUR SILENCE?

"THERE COMES A POINT WHEN SILENCE IS BETRAYAL." --Martin Luther King jr.
This is absolute truth. This truth should  cause us to pause and examine our own behaviours  to do some serious introspection and to ask the tough question, who have I betrayed with my silence? 

Often as human beings we confide and share with others our hurts, neglect, abandonment, dissapointments and oppressions in order to heal and overcome however it may not occurr to us that we ourselves may be a villian in someone else's story.

It is important that we hold ourselves accountable for how we treat others and be mindful of what we say, do and the impact it may have. 

While we are not perfect we can learn how to be empathetic and kind. The old adage of "treat others the way you would like to be treated" always applies.

May 31, 2020

4 SOME SUFFERING IS OPTIONAL


Sometimes human beings are the source of their own suffering. This is most evident when at times we refused to tell the truth of 
who we are in preference of manipulating others perception of us. When we allow shame the dominance to narrate who are, how we behave and influence who we are to become.

When we hold too long to relationships we know is no longer nurturing, encouraging, uplifting or inspiring us but diminishing, degrading, sabotaging, eroding and corroding our self-esteem, self-worth and self value leaving us a fraction of a true selves.

You cannot hide your greatness indefinitely under a blazing bushel at some point the flame will extinguish and there you are.

Life challenges at times may seem insurmountable but they're doable. It does not require finesse or grace to triumph. All that is required is a little courage, a willingness to forge through with a sprinkle of fortitude and determination and you will get over, under, around and through.
  • Choose to be you without apology and know that you are ENOUGH.. 
  • Be the acceptance you seek. 
  • Joy is a choice, choose it regardless of what comes your way.  
  • Teach yourself to honor yourself, your spirit, your soul and understand the value of YOU.
  • Develop healthy boundaries and set the standard for how you will be treated.

May 28, 2020

0 SUNSET ⛅ PHOTOGRAPHS

Sunset from my part of the world, Toronto Ontario Midwives.








May 23, 2020

4 BURY ME IN A FREE LAND

Frances Ellen Watkins Harper 1825-1911
I don't often read poetry per se mostly because I don't necessarily like a lot of it. However, every once in a while, I come across one that moves me. Bury Me In A Free Land written by abolitionist, activist, author and poet Frances Ellen Watkins Harper is one such poem. Perhaps the depths to which it moves me has to do with the horrific truth from which it's derived. In honor of Mrs Frances Ellen Watkins Harper who lived till the age of 82, I share her words...

Bury Me in a Free Land
By Frances Ellen Watkins Harper 

Make me a grave where'er you will,
In a lowly plain, or a lofty hill; 
Make it among earth's humblest graves,
But not in a land where men are slaves.

I could not rest if around my grave
I heard the steps of a trembling slave;
His shadow above my silent tomb
Would make it a place of fearful gloom.

I could not rest if I heard the tread
Of a coffle gang to the shambles led,
And the mother's shriek of wild despair
Rise like a curse on the trembling air.

I could not sleep if I saw the lash
Drinking her blood at each fearful gash,
And I saw her babes torn from her breast,
Like trembling doves from their parent nest.

I'd shudder and start if I heard the bay
Of bloodhounds seizing their human prey,
And I heard the captive plead in vain
As they bound afresh his galling chain.

If I saw young girls from their mother's arms
Bartered and sold for their youthful charms,
My eye would flash with a mournful flame,
My death-paled cheek grow red with shame.

I would sleep, dear friends, where bloated might
Can rob no man of his dearest right;
My rest shall be calm in any grave
Where none can call his brother a slave.

I ask no monument, proud and high,
To arrest the gaze of the passers-by;
All that my yearning spirit craves,
Is bury me not in a land of slaves.



To read more on Frances E.W. Harperg go to,  https://www.britannica.com/biography/Frances-E-W-Harper

May 20, 2020

1 SUNSETS FROM MY BALCONY 2

Taken from my balcony















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