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Ire

In the snow storm of life we are snowflakes, no two are exactly the same.



Sometimes the ire we feel is brought forth, not by another's hand, though we do blame them for the piercing pain felt with in our heart. Warm blood leaks from within, creating a coldness, a disgust for ourselves and sometimes for living.

Having been told, we are the curators of our own happiness or sadness. Not one other soul, has the ability to create our thoughts. Not one other being, can contribute unless we allow them to do so.

We are all multifaceted individuals, continually searching the universe for simple answers to complex questions.

Often presenting themselves when we are most vulnerable, already suffering feelings of denial, disrespect, guilt, aloneness, or loss. Opening ourselves up to even more pain and guilt. The should have, would have, could haves, if you will, thoughts that stop us dead in our tracks.

Forward progress halted, we retreat going back in time, wishing we had done things differently, blaming ourselves and others for our misfortunes, our sufferings and pain.

An old saying comes to mind. "Wish in one hand and spit in the other, which do you think will get full first?"

I believe our makeup was formed at the moment of conception, our genes set, of that we had no choice, the environment in our formative development and early years, neither did we have much control. We were innocent and most vulnerable at that time.

Like sponges, soaking up everything around us, good and bad. We only needed to be nurtured and loved, we loved others unconditionally, we believed everything we were told, right or wrong.

Watching, listening, imitating, those around us. Learning right from wrong, how to be truthful, how to lie, how to hide within ourselves and let no one else in.

Because when we felt hurt, used, abused and lied to, we soaked that up too.

Watching my own children and those of other's I have wondered, do we learn fear, determination, rejection and our many other feelings as we gestate in the amniotic sea within our mother's womb?

Did we feel the same things she felt as she carried us, worshiped when she felt loved, revulsion when she hated, fear when she was threatened, misunderstood when she felt unaccepted for who she knew she was? Were we already being precast because of her environment?

Did we learn when she learned, or were our feelings set at the time sperm and egg united and cells start dividing, forming a new being, a new life, us?

What was predetermined, what influenced our core development the most?

Can we really change who and what we are, or is our destiny predetermined, locked and unchangeable?

I feel we can become a better us, but we were born who and what we are. That we can never change.

Why would we want too? There is not another like us, the exact mould has been broken, never to be used again.

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