girldoeswordsorsomething

[girldoeswordsorsomething]

The first time I confronted death was many years ago, our neighbor's husband had died suddenly, taken by a heart attack. My memories of it are hazy, worn through with time.  I remember the wake, the crowds of people, I remember my father making an illegal U turn in order to make the ceremony on time. What I remember most, however, is how sudden it was, how unexpected. It didn’t make sense to me, how someone could be here one day and simply gone the next.  

I turned it over in my mind again and again, trying to make sense of it. It’s at this point where one would expect me to turn to scripture or perhaps poetry and literature to comfort myself with the wisdom of days gone by, but I was a strange child and I found comfort in strange places. What eventually quieted the dissonance I was feeling was physics. Specifically, the laws of conservation of mass and energy. They state that matter and energy can never be created or destroyed, merely transformed.  

This is what finally put me at ease: if these fundamental forces cannot be destroyed then neither can we. Death cannot be final; it can only be a transformation. I’ve come to find that the same is true for love. Love can become many things, it can become fear, it can become anger, it can become grief. However, underneath these new names and new masks it remains simply love. Love, like matter, like energy, cannot be destroyed. Love cannot die.  

In the coming days, weeks, months, and years when grief rears its ugly head it is important to remember that underneath all that pain and anger is love, that even though it hurts our grief is beautiful, is a treasure, because only love this deep can hurt so bad. 

[girldoeswordsorsomething]

At the beginning of all things there was nothing.

Then, there was Chaos, deeper and darker and broader than any ocean. Out of this ocean She was born, and Chaos hated Her for She refused to surrender herself to be a part of Chaos again. For a long time She fought to keep herself above the waves. It seemed certain it was only a matter of time before She would be torn apart, until she began to sing. Her Song reached deeply into Chaos pulled up a mountain from the depths, and upon this mountain She stood for the first time.

She sang to the mountain and from its stone rose a great tower. From this tower here Song rang out and in this way all things were made from Chaos, and it was reduced. Eventually, when the ocean of Chaos became small enough She sealed it beneath the world in a great well, and Chaos was furious, for it desired to devour all things and return them to itself. After the sealing of Chaos She looked out from the tower upon all of her creations and saw in them the echoes of the hunger of the well. She knew she must set upon her creation an Order so that it may be preserved, and She thought for much time upon what this order must be.

She was conflicted, for She did not wish to rule all things, but she knew all things must be ruled lest they return to Chaos. So long she thought, knowing these two things to be true, that eventually She split into two beings, she who bears the name of Mother and she who bears the name of Tyrant. As before She was at war within herself now She was at war with herself. Tyrant used the powers of Creation to build fearsome armies and raise great towers of black iron, and she set out to bring all things under her iron law. Mother saw what was to happen, and she mourned for her world, for she knew that the weight of Tyrants kingdom would crush much that was beautiful of what they had made. So she too made fearsome armies and great towers, and strode forth to meet her sister on the field of battle.

For many ages of the world they fought, racing to imagine new weapons to wield and new peoples to fight, and the echoes of battle were heard in all places so that none knew peace. Many peoples came into being at this time, but many more were already walking the world and resented the sisters for breaking the peace. Some of these people, having great powers of Creation themselves, hid their lands and gardens away so the violence could not touch them, though still it echoed there.

Eventually the sisters grew weary of fighting, though neither were willing to relent and let the other take mastery of the world, and deep in its well Chaos knew that this was it's chance. It thrashed in its bindings and cracked the foundations of the world, but could not break free. It seethed and boiled and belched forth great beasts to finish freeing itself, and failing that to devour whatever they could and return to it. Seeing this the sisters were afraid, for despite their disagreement on what the Order of the world must be, they both desired above all to protect what they had made from the insatiable hunger of Chaos. They joined their great armies together and marched to the well of Chaos, intending to seal it forever. But Chaos was strong, and they were already wearied by their long years of fighting.

Tyrant reached the well first, and built a great city atop it. Mother joining her set great silver watchtowers in the sky above the well to warn them of where the hordes of Chaos gathered to strike. Many more years they laboured, sealing the greatest of the fissures that chaos had caused, until they could labour no more and lay down to sleep.

In their absence the peace the sisters had forged was fragile, and their armies and kingdoms splintered into fiefdoms. Mother's people became the 13 Kingdoms of Heaven, for the 13 silver towers she had built. Tyrant's people became the 7 Circles of Hell, for the 7 rings of the city she had built.

Though there were skirmishes between these people, and the echoes of the great war never faded from their ears, there is peace between them. For while they never forget the blood they have spilled, so too do they remember the vast and endless hunger that was sealed, and still together they fight children of Chaos that crawl from that great well.

Many years have passed since this age, and many of the distant lands remember the truth of this tale only in faint echoes. The mighty beings of this age, those who heard the Song of Creation and saw the light of the first stars have been known by many names and been part of many new tales across the lands. They have been called gods, angels, devils, kami, aesir, vanir, fae, deva, asura, rakshasa, oni, and many more. Few are those among mortals who know the whole story, and even many among those who are called divine have forgotten all of what came to pass in those days and the ones that followed. Still, in all tales there is truth, and none may forget the hunger in the well.

[girldoeswordsorsomething]

The Unbowed Oak

I am the unbowed oak, survivor of many seasons

You may crack my trunk and shatter my branches, but you will never uproot me from the earth

You may cut me down and saw me into timbers, but the house that is made from me will be mine

I grow kindness from cruelty and strength from suffering

My pain does not define me, I am the one who gives it meaning

I am the master of my own destiny

[girldoeswordsorsomething]

Love is a garden

Love is a garden that stretches endlessly in every direction. There is no limit to how much love there can be. However, like a garden, love must be tended carefully to ensure it does not grow wild and thorny. It must be watered with care and affection, and weeded of resentments and miscommunications. It takes time to coax it to bloom. It takes time to take in the harvest of its fruits and blossoms, and it takes time to give them to who they belong. There are no limits on love but how much time and care you can spare to grow it.