Learning how to fight!

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Well, some might call it ‘communicate.’

Years ago I had a friend who told me a story. He said when his parents fought, they stopped speaking to each other. Their record was six months! They later divorced. Can you imagine? I can’t. I get over things very quickly, but not everyone does.

I came across the following article posted on Paulo Coelho’s Website. It’s from The Manuscript Found in Accra. It made me think of my temper and a recent reaction I had to something a friend said to me. My heated response had nothing to do with the subject at hand. Afterward, I realized it’s merely a reflection of how I am feeling, the hurt and sadness that’s in my heart, towards the relationship I now have with someone for whom I care a great deal. I think I have to learn how to fight!

I wanted to share it with you.

If someone confronts you over ideas or ideals, step up and accept the fight, because conflict is present in every moment of our lives and sometimes it needs to show itself in the broad light of day.

But do not fight in order to prove that you are right or to impose your ideas or ideals on someone else. Only accept the fight as a way of keeping your spirit clean and your will spotless. When the fight is over, both sides will emerge as winners, because they tested their limitations and their abilities.

Since both respect the courage and determination of the other, the time will come when they will once again walk along hand-in-hand, even if they have to wait a thousand years for that to happen.

Meanwhile, if someone merely wishes to provoke you, shake the dust from your feet and carry on. Only fight with a worthy opponent, and not with someone who uses trickery to prolong a war that is already over, as happens with all wars.

Such cruelty does not come from the warriors who meet on the battlefield and know what they are doing there but from those who manipulate victory and defeat for their own ends.

The enemy is not the person standing before you, sword in hand. It is the person standing next to you with a dagger concealed behind his back.

The most important of wars is not waged with a lofty spirit and with your soul accepting its fate.

It is the war that is going on now as we are speaking and whose battlefield is the Spirit, where Good and Evil, Courage and Cowardice, Love and Fear face each other.

 

 

 

Raise your voice. Say NO to racism.

 

I was looking for a live blog on the France/Croatia FIFA 2018 Final and came across a video that ripped my heart to pieces and had me crying so hard.

I don’t have a lot of great memories of my early childhood, but I remember one thing my mother taught us: in our household, there is zero tolerance for racism. And I’ve lived my entire life feeling strongly about culture and race, and ashamed of the inequalities and destructive racist world that exists today.

I’ve never understood how cruel man can be to a fellow human being. I told my kids when they were young that even what they felt might be a harmless joke about a group of people is unacceptable in our world. I grew up in a white household with Anglo Saxon parents, a freckle-faced blond child with ringlets and pretty blue/green eyes. I never experienced what it was like to be lesser than anyone else. I never knew the painful rejection so many have because of the color of their skin or the place on this planet where they were born. I’ve made a lifelong effort to be inclusive of culture and race all around me. On a gut level, I don’t understand racism. When I witness prejudice, my heart aches.

So here I am, writing a blog at the very same moment I should be enjoying the FIFA finals listening to all my French neighbors singing and rooting for the championship. I know it’s crazy, but I also believe in messages. The video down below popped up on my radar and I had to watch it. I’ve finally stopped crying; but it hurts me so much, and I feel so frustrated that racism exists in the world, particularly in such an inclusive sport as Soccer/Football.

Last week I was invited to do an author podcast interview for RRBC Rave Reviews Book Club an extremely supportive group that I’ve been a member of for a couple of years.
Before I realized what I was saying, I got on to the subject of this year’s most beautiful insight. After writing three poetry books, a memoir, and several novels, this is what I’ve learned about myself. Every book or novella I write tends to deal with an important social issue as a plot or a side plot. I’ve delved into insatiable greed, murderous megalomaniacs, indiscriminate espionage, cyber-hacking, illicit money-laundering, savage drug cartels, brutal ISIS and the insanity of racial intolerance. My list is endless. And within these stories I’ve also woven into my plots, racism, the way nations like Mexico, where I live, are marginalized and grouped into a label as a country of rapists and drug cartels. I’ve addressed child sexual exploitation, women who purchase sex and the men who service them, the refugee/migrant crisis, mixed-race relationships, ageism, sexism, sex trafficking; and the underbelly of the human condition. I know my stories consist of entertaining, fast-paced, thrillers, and contemporary romance themes; but they are also more than that. And through this creative medium, I hope to shine a light on these important issues.

This year I realized that writing it out is how I deal with the hurt and pain I see around me. It’s my way of making my mother proud, of letting her know that I have taken up the challenge and will not sit idly by while warmongers and racists control the direction of governments and world thinking.
I’m using my writing voice to increase awareness that we are all human beings trying to get by in a world that creates pain and heartache for something as unimportant as the color of our skin, or the status of our families, or the sexual preferences of our children, or the country where we were born.

And I, for one, am sad today, when I should be rejoicing a well-deserved FIFA win for France, a sport that should unite the world and not be a stage for ugly racism.

And this is what made me cry.

 

 

And still I offer my congratulations to FRANCE. I’m in multi-cultural Paris right now and the whole city is rocking! And as Mish, a friend in my WIP Layla 2 believes: Football can unite the world!

I hope you’re right, Mish, I hope you’re right.

 

 

 

Almost There

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Image may be subject to ©

green intense

light of love

heart love

pulsating

tears rolling down

the pale blue window

inside my mind’s eye

the right side, a film playing

over

and over again

 

heart pain silent relentless

take it away I beg

make it go away

 

intense lights bright

smiles and miles of warmth

take me, please

take me there

take me into his arms

let me touch his hair

let my lips brush his cheek

let me smile with him

let me feel his love

 

straw fields break through

electric blue sky

closer, closer I beg

I can feel I’m almost there

 

swirling turquoise water, is that ocean?

is this what your home is like?

will you take me there

 

are those people I see

wait, talk to me, don’t leave yet

I’m almost there

Mom, can you bring me over

yes, I can feel your smile

don’t you love him too?

 

I know my dream is over

the sun is heating up my room

my left side wants to fly

my right, dead weight here

 

I walked with a child

he was sad and sullen

I took his hand

and told him to dance with me

he smiled and twirled

 

and then he was no longer there

 

on an edge of a bathtub

you sat with me

a stranger holding a gun

told us to get inside

our time was up

it was time to die

 

I felt no fear

I was ready to go

I would follow you anywhere

 

© Almost There, I (Spy) Love Lynda Filler Poet

 

The Art of Love

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The Art of Love

 

a moments rest

time to digest

the thoughts of him

his illness

my Love

so long ago

and yet

always clear

present

and near

 

words

uninvited

the sound of his voice teasing

knowing that something

was not

quite

right

 

the solemn day

rushes up to me

grabs my heart

squeezes old tears

demands of me

an/swer/s (to questions) I don’t want to hear

 

what are you doing sweet heart

there is an art to love

have you been asleep

throughout your life

are you too busy

looking for Love

to follow the rules?

 

there is no logic to Love, I respond

it cannot be dissected

ana/lyz/ed

filed

it does not fit

into

patterns

principles and strategies

there are no rules

to Love

 

the art is in the Loving

in the selflessness

in the joy of knowing

your beloved feels safe

and loved

 

the Art is in the Love

 

and for this Love

I would do anything

 

and so

I do nothing

 

© The Art of Love, I (Spy) Love 

 

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Lip Service

I taste a salty tear,

let it fall

the furrows aging my face

no longer smiling

the pain

raw

 

it seems with time

I remember

too much, too clear, too sad

 

did you tell my sister you loved me?

that I was distant?

             explain to me how an infant can be distant

 

it matters not, now,

 

I accepted your cool demeanor

all the while thinking there was something wrong with me

 

when my babies were born

you asked me should you come

             how could you ask me

             why didn’t you need to be with me?

(I was so scared)

             didn’t you want to hold them?

a newborn baby, a gift of God,

your grandchild

a baby powder bundle of love

 

it’s my birthday soon,

yours two weeks later

 

I face my sad

I am healing

 

I offer lip-service-forgiveness

I’m not sure I will ever understand you

 

© Lip Service, LOVE REHAB 

 

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2

color ceased to exist

 

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Blue

 

a whistle blows

March winds

carry your spirit

waves bow, welcome you

moms and calves

breaching

learning

playing

b e i n g

 

I wandered the shoreline

sea shells crusty under

naked feet

toes tickled by waters

wanting to dance

 

you moved in burnt orange

I lived in hot pink

we thought the sapphire of the sea

might be our compromise

 

we walked

c l o s e r

I could almost feel

your kiss against

my waiting soul

 

and then your breath stopped

and my heart screamed black

the winds began to howl

and the whales were still

 

and for a time

color ceased to exist

 

© I (Spy) Love Lynda Filler

 

Fear…

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Life is supposed to hit you with one thing at a time.

So, take your pick Life: what’s it going to be?

 

I know you never promised me a rose garden.

And a white picket fence has been off the table for years.

And I know it’s normal to feel sad for what-could-have-been and what-should-be.

And I know we can’t change others, only ourselves.

And if you love someone you have to let him die alone if that’s what he chooses.

And you can only count on yourself—I wrote a book on that.

And life isn’t always fair.

 

I never realized that achieving your dreams could mean your heart breaks along the way.

I always believed in the goodness of men and women.

I also know that happiness is an inside job; and that we have to love ourselves first before anyone else can love us.

I do believe in Shamans and miracles—but my totem animals seem to have deserted me.

 

But my time is running out on this particular journey. And I’m wondering if You have forsaken me.

 

Or have I forsaken myself…