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Monthly Archives: November 2013

empathy bellies

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I never used to re-post but the Kindness Blog has outdone itself yet again.

Kindness, empathy and compassion are natural and healthy. The people who fight against it, or deny it, for the sake of power, ego, control, aggression, fear, or distrust affect everyone exponentially.

Why not make an effort to understand someone else and heal yourself in the process?

The Science of Kindness.

brick wall and sky

Still, the teen has a “high-level of sensitivity and intuitiveness,” Richards said. His drawings could be a way for him to express his view that people should be treated with kindness.

“If you look at other aspects of personality growth and development, he has a strong capacity for empathy,” says Richards.

This remarkable journey, although terribly difficult for the Hix family, shows the power of creativity, empathy, intuition, and sensitivity. This example also shows the power of love, family and not limiting or stigmatizing someone’s abilities.

These attributes shine above the mental disabilities and bring comfort to others through the heartfelt passion of Zack Hix. Hopefully, it will bring comfort and inspiration to you as well.

http://www.cnn.com/2013/08/19/living/aj-irpt-good-boy-roy/index.html?iid=article_sidebar

conceptual by sadalit

In my wistful dreams, I hope to see my mother or hear the messages to strengthen me during difficult times. Sometimes, I am so busy in my dreams ~ colors, images, conversations, names and places, looking around and visually taking inventory ~ and wake up exhausted.

The only fragment I could recall yesterday was holding my mother’s glasses and looking through them. I knew that I could not see clearly because our prescriptions were not the same. Yet, I looked through them and recall thinking how our friend must have changed the lenses because suddenly I could see through them!

I don’t recall seeing my mother directly, but thought about how I was seeing through her eyes. Was it a message that she could see me? My own thoughts were that now I must see the world through her eyes. Perhaps, it is her vision, but my eyes that need to see clearly.

Where my mother saw rainbows, I saw rain. Where my mother saw trees, I saw the walls that framed them. Every day was an adventure for my mother and she greeted each one with a smile.

She continued to tell my father, as she woke each day, “One more day to say I Love You.”

I am struggling mightily to see the world through her eyes. Ironically, my eyes pick up colors and pay attention to things that I never looked at before. Perhaps she is pushing me softly, encouraging me, to look at things in a different way. As for myself, I see them and know how much my mother would have enjoyed a certain color, a toy, seeing the leaves change, and look forward to admiring the Thanksgiving table.

The visions I had hoped for have not occurred, but perhaps it is a Mother’s love giving me the gift of sight, and stepping out of the way, to let me look forward.

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