What to Write

I was looking through my pictures today, hoping for some inspiration; and found that my heart most resonated with this image of our terribly spoiled, though at the time worn out, family pet. Speaking of pets, our apartment complex neighbors across the way brought home the cutest little pink pig with a black saddle-like spot on its back and black on its ears. They are clearly keeping this dainty creature as a pet, but my husband says it will be dinner some day. Such is life in an upper middle class Chinese neighborhood. Nothing much has been going on of late as you can probably sense by this post, and yet there is a recognition in my heart that life could or should be continually rich when a person is loved and gives love. There is wonder and beauty to be seen in the ordinary if eyes are opened. I love the following quotes from "The Black Cauldron" by Lloyd Alexander:

"There is much to be known," said Adaon, "and above all much to be loved, be it the turn of the seasons or the shape of a river pebble. Indeed, the more we find to love, the more we add to the measure of our hearts."

Adaon smiled gravely. "Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us? You should know there is adventure in simply being among those we love and the things we love, and beauty, too."

If only the head and the heart could communicate better.

I'm not sure if you can relate...

...But some times I feel this pressing urge to seek out and bring home some lovely or unique object - an unclaimed treasure yet to be known by others. Genetics are a probable culprit, because my mother is a great lover of beauty and from a young age included me on her antiquing adventures.

This compulsion is not limited to "things," either (though it usually manifests this way). I find it "necessary" to clean or redecorate our home in some attractive or beautiful way. Or feel anxious to get outside on a gorgeous spring day and explore and take photos. I may try to draw or write something heartfelt or romantic. If I was more skilled and visionary like many of you; I think I would sit and create for hours with a variety of materials: paper, cloth, lace, and beads....

As a young girl, I loved to get lost in the fantasy worlds I found in storybooks and then also within my self-constructed realms of make-believe. There is a bitter-sweetness to this impression which I can only describe as a quiet, gnawing sadness or feeling of homesickness.

Some times I wonder if it is more of a desire to runaway or escape, but not from any particularly bad thing here. More from daily life burdens and expectations or disappointments with myself and in to a more child-like, fairytale, carefree state.

The writer CS Lewis, mentions a similar yearning several times in his works....

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.
C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold

I also love this quote from The Black Cauldron by Lloyd Alexander,

"There is much to be known," said Adaon, "and above all much to be loved, be it the turn of the seasons or the shape of a river pebble. Indeed, the more we find to love, the more we add to the measure of our hearts."

L is for Longing.

I am joining Jenny Matlock ... off on her tangent... for Alphabe-Thursday. Please take a look at the other L posts and join in here.

Pebbles by nickellis74