Week Forty-One: Destitute

drawn-cloud-storm-18.jpgIt’s time to start writing. Earlier I had a thought that maybe all dogs share one infinite love-filled heart, because sometimes when they look at you, really look at you with those deep penetrating telepathic looks, it feels that way. It feels like there is another world that has less pain. Is simpler. A world where there is enough compassion to go around and where intentions can make real impacts.  Where a thought infused with love overpowers hate effortlessly at the moment it is thought.  I wish this place existed, but we cannot put all the pressure on dogs. I mean the world is such a brutal place right now. There may not be a well deep enough to put out the hate fire. I wish every day that there was more that I could do.. I am often helplessly wishing, worrying, listening, reading. When reading fiction, the act educates, enriches, multiplies my heart space. When reading the news things tighten, narrow, become stifling as they drain us. To keep up with the negativity and the pain of the world is more of a curse than a blessing. At what cost? To know is to hold the burden, to ache, and to burn. I want my share but we all have taken on more than we can handle when so many refuse to carry their responsibilities and pass their weight down the line. I asked last night if maybe it was too much? Am I too fragile for this onslaught? I am so stupid to keep on loving in this world? Save your innocence in the face of it all. I will try if you do.

This piece is part of the #52essays2017 challenge where I will share one essay a week in 2017. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out writer Vanessa Martir’s website and post about it.

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