Embarking on a path of sympathy without fortifying ourselves with empathy, is tantamount to having the key to the bottom lock while forgetting the key to the top. And… Expressing dismay – that you’re still out in the cold because the door has the audacity not to budge. Copyright © 2015 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved
Category Archives: blogging
Passing on the present
A distaste for the present is often mirrored by the flippant disrespect that we show to the lessons painted on the pastel of history.
The spirit told me…
This morning I sat on the edge of the bed and prattled off a laundry list of wants – Topping the list was: ■ $67.2 million dollars ■ A domicile in a tropical location I exhaled deeply and looked towards the ceiling. Making sure to direct my entreaties to the Almighty for acceptance, after aContinue reading “The spirit told me…”
Searching for the “Why”.
I took a long walk in hopes of clearing the cobwebs and escaping the fog of uncertainty that has enveloped me as of late. When I walk, I walk earnestly, searching for God’s face. I’ve felt adrift as of late and found myself wondering… I sat here and wondered – Why? “Why am I here”Continue reading “Searching for the “Why”.”
Dearest Chicago – Talking out loud
Dearest Chicago, I’ve written about the affinity that I have for you on a number of occasions, most recently in a well-received tome that I penned during a flight home last year. Unfortunately, it seems that I can always count on you for being in the news for all of the wrong reasons. The latestContinue reading “Dearest Chicago – Talking out loud”
No, history isn’t a pretty face.
History is a bad word, because history is ugly. Preferring to sanitize or ignore it, is tantamount to self-hatred. But. Sadly we express dismay when we repeat our misteps. If only history were beautiful and serene… Strangely enough, if we were to procure the lessons to be had from history, that in itself would beContinue reading “No, history isn’t a pretty face.”
Echoes of silence
Arid plains reek of desolation as winds of life waft an acrid stench of heartbroken failure tinged with insignificance, encumbered by cognizance of opportunities lost – those words, actions cut like swords that imprison like a Bastille. Someone said – I’m having a horrible life… No retort for staying the course – as the silenceContinue reading “Echoes of silence”
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