pound cake

It's really pretty amazing, how simple a statement this makes.

Kindness, or to use that old, beautiful King James word, lovingkindness...that is honestly what I want for you and for me at my blog.  I've been doing this crazy online journaling thing for nearly three years, two years here at Sunday School Rebel, and I try very hard not to write about my husband, my parents, my best friends, my anybody that I care about or even people who have made me angry and I disagree with them in EVERY POSSIBLE WAY, in a way that would make me ashamed for them to read it.  Of course there is being funny and then there is being mean-spirited, which is not the kind of place I want to keep. 

I never really understand when people use their blogs (or words, in general, as in mean comments) as vehicles for ugliness, for petulant whinging (in my view), for participating in bringing more dark and hurtful jabs at an already tough world. I love to read snarky stuff as much as the next person, but there is a line and we all know when it's crossed.  It hurts when someone writes about you on their blog, drawing in no uncertain terms all your faults, all your worst day behaviors with no grace tempering the illustration.  It wounds.  Sure it's their RIGHT, and God forbid they not exercise that right to act however the hell they please, but it's their karma, not mine.  I am always thankful that I'm not more popular, because I am damn sensitive.  I take things very personally.  I have a hard time forgiving, when I know that someone has purposefully hurt me, for whatever twisted reasons of their own.  (Other than that, I'm pretty forgetful about it. What? We had a fight once?) It's so much better than it used to be, but that doesn't mean that I don't have fantasies about ways to get even. (They are usually very inventive, and also funny. There's no reason to be vengeful without a sense of humor, right?)  The only way I've known to get even is to withdraw - and to pray, very hard, and sometimes, a very whimpering prayer.  A prayer for forgiveness over my total unwillingness to be more willing to lay down my sword.   But then came the day where, as I literally washed the dishes, as poetry had been carefully taking me by the hand and cleansing my soul, I laid down the sword. 

Of course, along the way, I had to admit that I wasn't perfect. While innocent, that doesn't mean I couldn't have chosen differently, each step taking me further down a dark spiral. I am human, after all, if that's still acceptable to be. (Sometimes I wonder.)  I must believe that on any given day, my capacity for love outshines my capacity for evil, for pure hurtful action. I ask all that's Divine to help me, to transform me into someone who will be known for her love. Of course I'm not perfect: I'm impatient, I'm self absorbed, I really do want my own way the majority of the time. I still can't say that I've risen to the challenge to love my enemies, but there are times where I remember a good thing and smile.  And for a moment, the bitterness subsides, and I've got that sweet memory, a good thing that made me love in the first place. 

Another thing that is crucial: being honest about how difficult it's been, because your name is something that is precious, something that you want people to smile when they hear, not wince.  Or smirk, or even roll their eyes.  Even though everyday I realize more and more my hurt was such a gift, it has transformed from scabs into budding wings.  It's made me fierce, in a sense of never allowing myself to be treated in such a way, or getting sucked into a very unhealthy mindset.  And it's made me appreciate those whom I love and who love me in ways that are worth shouting from the treetops, that honor is still alive and well, in knowing I am loved in ways I don't deserve, in knowing that because of who I am, because I cannot be controlled, because I refused, well, that was the deepest gift. That the untruth of the tale didn't matter so much, when I look at the motives and the dark lonely places it came from.  Did I mention wings? Because some days I swear I feel them sprouting from my back, that's how free I feel.  How free I am. 

So, let it be said now: this is a kind place, a safe place.  I believe in being kind and celebrating all the good things.  So, this is a place with candles lit and love alive.  A place where I believe in dancing through this life, whether it's a great day or a really crappy one.  My little living room, where I've encountered some of the most life-giving relationships of my days. You are always welcome here.  And if you stay long enough, I'll probably end up baking something, so please do stay.    

Comments

[rena griffe]

I remember when the stabbing was taking place, and I'm sorry to admit that I did not realize how much all of that hurt you. She/they were being unreasonable, I thought. You did the best you could under the circumstances, I thought. The accusations were lies, I thought. I forgot that having someone treat us unkindly hurts, oh and don't I know from my own experience how dreadful the pain can be!

I'm glad you're healing. And thanks for the lesson on kindness. I'm not nearly as kind as I used to be. I should revisit my former self.

[nel]

What a welcoming, safe place you have created here with your honesty. I can only imagine how warm and welcoming it must be to enter your home:-) Thank you for sharing your heart, it's beautiful. Nel

[Irene]

thank you for sharing this and spreading the word.

[lizardek]

It's so nice to feel welcome :)

[Lori-Lyn]

What a simple, powerful statement it is to align oneself with kindness.

[Pamela]

I love it Samantha, how you manage to say a lot of the things I am thinking but can never put into words - at least not as well as you do. It's so hard to be kind and move on from past hurt all the while feeling like the person you are trying to amend things with holds on to the past so tightly. But I'll try my best to hold on to the kindness and become a person known for love - someone people smile at when they hear my name. As always, thank you for your beautiful words. I don't always get to read as often as I like, but I always catch the one I seem to need to hear the most. God is funny like that.

[Marilyn]

Beautifully written and realized, Sam. I'm aware of the "kind blog" thing, of course, but reading the original post the other day all I could think was...I must not be reading the cycle of popular blogs everyone else is, because I can't think of a single blog I read where kindness isn't pretty much the norm. (Well, except for Go Fug Yourself...and that I'm NOT going to give up.) ;)

[pamela]

The message and the picture painted are both very very powerful and delightful. You manage to lift all of us who read your blog (well me certainly - but I am sure it is true of others as well). Kindness, honour candles and ... baking. What more can you ask for?

Thanks

[pamela]

The message and the picture painted are both very very powerful and delightful. You manage to lift all of us who read your blog (well me certainly - but I am sure it is true of others as well). Kindness, honour candles and ... baking. What more can you ask for?

Thanks