Where Elvish Blood Sings: The Quest.

[Annisthyrienne]

Thoughts on Chistmas

From Neale Donald Walsh, author.

***************
I couldn't sleep last night.

I was up from 2 until 6, having another one of my Conversations with God.

"Tell me about Christmas," I said. "What is it really all about?"

And I heard, "What do you mean, what is it really all about? I've told you a million times what it's all about."

So I said, "Tell me again. I think I may have missed it."

And suddenly my head was filled with a Christmas Carol - one of the happiest and most triumphant of all the melodies of Christmas.

"Joy to the world," the song began, "the Lord has come."

But I couldn't get into it. I kept wondering, what is joyful about the coming of someone who is going to be a lord over us?

God! I said...I don't understand this!

And God replied, "You're right. You don't."

Then God said, "But at least you're asking a question. And that's good. It's really hard to understand something if you think there are no more questions to ask. You can't be given an answer if you think you already have the only answer there is."

"Well, I don't have the answer," I admitted. "So what's the answer?"

And God said, "The answer is that the Lord....who has come....is not a lord over you, but in you."

These words came to me at 2:57 this morning, and I pondered them in my heart.

"Then," I ventured, "the Christmas season is not just a remembering of the birth of a Babe. We'll sing about that Babe tonight, and honor his arrival, for he brought a new TELLING of a great truth - and a true LIVING of it - to the world. And these truly were tidings of comfort, and joy.

But this is also a celebration of the birth of the Christed one in all of us."

And God answered softly, "Yes."

And then I wondered what all the songs, and all the messages, and all the feelings of Christmas would mean if I accepted this truth. If I really understood that the message of this season is not about one blessed being, but about all beings, being blessed.

Not about someone else, but about us.

About me.

But oh, my gosh, did that sound bad. I mean, it actually sounded like blasphemy. How could Christmas be about me?

Of all the self-centered, ego-maniacal thoughts!

This is about the coming of the Lord! This is about the Gift of the Magi!

But, my heart insisted, what if the gift WAS me? And what if the Lord HAS come to be in me, not over me?

I know that I can find a place for him over me, but can I find a place for him within me?

And what would it mean for me to do that? What would it mean for me to be not only a person who has been blessed, but a person who is blessed? And for me to think of you in the same way? What if I saw you as blessed? Would I act differently toward you?

I'd like to think I would. I'd like to think that I would be more kind to you. More gentle with my words, more caring with my actions, more compassionate in my thoughts, more honest in my dealings, more patient and generous and...and more aware of the wonder of you.

And if I thought that I was a blessed person, would I act differently toward me?

I think I would. I think I'd be more kind to myself. More gentle with my words, more caring with my actions. I think I'd be more compassionate with myself, more patient and generous and...and more aware of the wonder of ME.

But is it possible that we are all blessed?

This I asked in the middle of the night, and the answer came back, stunningly, simply: "Yes."

SOOO, I mused... this is the meaning of Christmas. That... that which is Christed is born in all of us. Lives in all of us. IS all of us. We simply do not remember this. And so, Christmas was created to remind us.

Christmas, it turns out, is not about a particular religion, but about all religions. It is not about a particular person, but about all persons.

It does not matter tonight whether you are Christian or Muslim, Hindu or Jew, Baptist or Buddhist.

Or none of the above.

When you give birth to the lord within you, you give life to a wonder and a majesty and a wisdom and a love that can flow from you to all the world, and change the world forever.

Isn't this the Christmas Story?

And when we live this story as our story, are our lives not renewed, our separated selves made whole?

Indeed.

Our souls are stirred, our hearts are filled. And then it is we who bring...joy to the world.

The gift of Christmas is us, fully expressed and fully realized. It is us -- completely willing and totally ready -- to love without condition, to give without restriction, to share without limitation, to create without fear, to celebrate ourselves without shame or embarrassment.

It is us, choosing to forgive without hesitation, to help without being asked, to rush in where angels fear to tread. Indeed, to lead the way for angels.

Ah, to lead the way for angels. That's why we're here. That's why we've come to the Earth. To be a herald!

Hark! The herald, angels sing. Glory to the newborn king.

At this moment we can give birth to the royalty within us...the royalty that we are in God's eyes.

You know, someone once said...if you saw you as God sees you, you would smile a lot.

Well, tonight is a night for smiles. For tonight, if we really try, we can almost see ourselves as God see us. We can feel it.

You can feel it right now, here in this room.

That feeling is called love.

Your love for life, and all those you love in this life. And God's love for you.

Now, the Magic of Christmas is that it gives us permission to take that feeling, to take that love, and share it with all those whose lives we touch.

With friend, and with stranger.

With those who agree with us, and with those who disagree.

With those who look and act like us, and with those who do not.

We are invited tonight to feel this love, and to give it permanent place within our heart. To be the source of peace on Earth, and goodwill toward men and women everywhere.

We are invited on this night to walk the Earth not only as one who is BLESSED, but as one who is blessed. Not only as the Lord of the manner, but in the manner of the Lord.

For that is what we are. We are the lord of our inner kingdom, and thus, of the outer one as well. And when we understand that, everything changes. We begin to experience the world, and to affect the world, in a new way.

That is the Christmas invitation. We are invited to begin that experience on this night.

On this....silent night.

And if we do, we will make it a holy night. And we will begin to create a world in which all is calm. All is bright.

Joy to the world! The Lord has come. Let Earth receive her King. Let every heart...prepare him room.

And heaven, and nature, sing!

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Love,

Neale


******************

Merry Christmas, my friends.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

*Keeping this most precious gift for my Butterfly angel, here in my abode where I can gift it to her in person, in private. An amulet that reminds her of the affectionate term of endearment I have for her, and the magic imbued within the design, meant to always keep me in her heart, allowing her to have me with her with but a thought, whenever she should have the desire to be with me.*

Merriest of Christmases, my Butterfly Angel!

 

[Drunken_Angel]

From the trees, she descends.
Across the earth, she flows.
Through the water, she swims.
Into your arms, she climbs.

Her sigh is as gentle as the west wind.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

From the trees, she descends.
Across the earth, she flows.
Through the water, she swims.
Into your arms, she climbs.

Her sigh is as gentle as the west wind.

*Cradling the sweet fae with a smile.* Now it's home, Cousin.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

The smile returned, half-impish, noses rub.

"How have you been, sweety, its been forever. My writer has been negligent, even letting the absinthe run dry."

 

[Annisthyrienne]

It has been a long time. But it's all better now. We'll find you some more. Or perhaps conjure some. This place is thick with magic.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

I noticed that, I can practically taste the eldritch on my tongue.

~deepening the snuggle, eyes closing~

Tell me a story, Thyri, tell me of your time betwixt here and there, under a canopy of near-forgotten stars. What have you been doing for the last few months?

 

[Annisthyrienne]

I noticed that, I can practically taste the eldritch on my tongue.

~deepening the snuggle, eyes closing~

Tell me a story, Thyri, tell me of your time betwixt here and there, under a canopy of near-forgotten stars. What have you been doing for the last few months?

*Sitting back with a sigh, leaning my head on the tree trunk, cradling you to my body.* Here on Lit, so many things have happened. The relationship with Mistress fell apart. My fault. So I searched for a place for me, just me, and my kin, my lovers. I found this place.

There were many friends who offered me places in their homes. Those places still hold welcome for me, but this place is for me and mine.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

A moment between breaths allows me a sense of your words. I feel sadness, but find myself nuzzling in understanding. "I'm sorry about your relationship, I know how much it hurts to lose someone."

Two glasses rest upon the grass, beads of dew slowly condensing upon their sides. "Drink with me, thyri and hold me a bit, yes?"

 

[Annisthyrienne]

A moment between breaths allows me a sense of your words. I feel sadness, but find myself nuzzling in understanding. "I'm sorry about your relationship, I know how much it hurts to lose someone."

Two glasses rest upon the grass, beads of dew slowly condensing upon their sides. "Drink with me, thyri and hold me a bit, yes?"

*A bittersweet smile paints my lips.* It hurt, more to find out that I wasn't what I thought I was, than to lose something I never had. Yes, let's drink and idle together. Times are happier now. My cousin has returned.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

A light breeze rustles leaves and our hair; it flows over our bodies like silk. "What is it you thought you were?"

The young faerie nestles her lips in the hollow of your neck.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

A light breeze rustles leaves and our hair; it flows over our bodies like silk. "What is it you thought you were?"

The young faerie nestles her lips in the hollow of your neck.

I thought I could be something for Her that I am not. It isn't what I thought I was, it's what I found out I am not, and can never be: a submissive slave. She told me rather bluntly that I was not a true submissive.

So now I am a free agent elf, unfettered and observing only those claims I wish to honor, purely out of my regard for those who make them. I can be many things to many people, but I'll always be me.

*Sipping From the dewy cup, the sweet taste teasing my tongue. My fingertips stroking through silken fae locks.*

 

[Drunken_Angel]

Longing for her touch, my cheek seeks her hand, "Sometimes the idea of something is prettier than its actuality-- and sometimes it looses its allure in light of our greater self-understanding." My tongue flows smoothly through the words, half wondering where they came from. This is not how I usually speak.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

*Giggling.* Cousin, you surprise me! Such a poignant thing to say. Perhaps your absinthe drought has affected you more seriously than first imagined.

*Caressing your cheek with tender affection, then taking your hand in mine and leading you down the path.*

Come, let's take our rest in the Grandfather Tree. He'll shelter us through the night. The hour grows late for me, and my eyes fairly want to close by themselves.

And not one remark about making cookies, Cousin! A hollow tree it may be, but I'm not that kind of elf.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

Laughing, full, unrestrained, "And I'm not that kid of Angel" Hand squeezed. "The tree sounds lovely, cousin. Perhaps we can talk over breakfast, though I cannot promise to let you go once we start dreaming; you know how I am about dreams..."

 

[Annisthyrienne]

Laughing, full, unrestrained, "And I'm not that kid of Angel" Hand squeezed. "The tree sounds lovely, cousin. Perhaps we can talk over breakfast, though I cannot promise to let you go once we start dreaming; you know how I am about dreams..."

I not only know how you are, I'm looking forward to it! I've a guest bed, but not for you. You lie with me tonight, in my arms. And let your dreams be sweet ones, or wake me if they are not.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

I not only know how you are, I'm looking forward to it! I've a guest bed, but not for you. You lie with me tonight, in my arms. And let your dreams be sweet ones, or wake me if they are not.

I could not wish for a happier place. Goodnight, cousin.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

On my desktop background, I have a picture of the ocean near a seashore. As I was booting up this afternoon, I noticed the swell of the tide in the picture, almost seeming to move, though it is a still photo, not animated.

In the moment I noticed it, I thought about the ocean. No one looks at the ocean and thinks it is anything less than a perfect ocean. Maybe people don't think of it at all in terms of perfection or imperfection. It's just the ocean. Is this because we don't have another ocean right beside it to compare it to?

No one looks at the ocean and thinks, 'That ocean is not perfect. It is lacking on some aspect. There is something deficient in that ocean, as compared to what an ocean should truly be.' They just don't think that way. People look at the ocean, no matter what state it is in (stormy, calm, rolling tides, etc) and they accept it as perfect just the way it is. It is simply the ocean, as one would expect an ocean to be. There is nothing lacking in it. It's all that an ocean is supposed to be, we think, and simply accept it at it's face value. We just don't think, 'Well, if only this ocean was this way, or had this feature, or that, then it would be perfect. But lacking that, it is an imperfect ocean.'

We don't do this with oceans.

But we do this with people. Maybe because we have other people so handily close by to compare any given person to, and so we can easily find them lacking or find some fault in them by comparison.

But should we? Is it really fair to compare a person to any other when each is readily acknowledged to be an individual, unique unto themselves? How do we know that seeing them as they are, with all their seemingly attendant faults, that we are not seeing them in their complete perfection at that particular moment? They are being in that moment, the perfect example of them that they can be.

And in the next moment, that version might very well be obsolete, and a new version, a new vision of themselves, is the next standard in the perfection of them. Who else, in seeing them, can say that they are imperfect versions of themselves?

I believe that everything I say and do makes a statement of Who and What I Really Am. When I consider my thoughts, words, or actions, I try to do so with the question, 'What does this say about me, about who I am, or what I am? Is it what I want to be said about me? Is it what I want people to know about me?

In other words, Am I presenting the world with the perfect version of Who I Am in that moment?

I guess the answer would have to be 'yes' since I have not invented a new version of myself until the next thought, or word, or action. Then that new version will be the perfect me. I won't be the same as you, or any other person, but who ever said that was the standard we were to live up to?

I am a Perfect Being, becoming. I am Perfection, in process.

What more can be said? In the next moment of 'Me', I may find that all that went before is no longer an accurate or perfect presentation of Me, but that's okay. I may end up with as many updates and revisions as frikkin' Windows, but nobody ever said I was limited on how many chances I get to make the statement I want about myself. At any given time, I am the perfect Me that I am. In the next I may be different, but I'm still me, still the perfect Me.

And this applies to everyone else too. They are the perfect version of themselves in the moment we are presented with them, whether we think they measure up to our standard of Ourself or not.

 

[Fish_Tales]

↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑




I wish I'd written that.

But reading it was good enough.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑




I wish I'd written that.

But reading it was good enough.

Thank you, Fish. I guess I'm feeling very philosophical tonight.

(How did you make those arrows?)

 

[Noon_Shadow]

Noon pops in to give Thyri a big hug, squeezing her close. Hey you. He smiles.

Since I got back from my hiatus, I've hardly had the chance to talk to you. We need to catch up soon. But yes, I agree with Fish, that was beautifully written.

 

[Fish_Tales]

Thank you, Fish. I guess I'm feeling very philosophical tonight.

(How did you make those arrows?)

It was a pleasure. As long as your feeling philosophical is not related to melancholy, then I will look forward to more of your thoughts.




Um - the arrows - I just cut and pasted them from Word - I'm not THAT good!

 

[Annisthyrienne]

Noon pops in to give Thyri a big hug, squeezing her close. Hey you. He smiles.

Since I got back from my hiatus, I've hardly had the chance to talk to you. We need to catch up soon. But yes, I agree with Fish, that was beautifully written.

Thank you, Noon. There is a reason I've been lurking on Lit a bit more lately. Kinda shy I guess. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's hard to believe, huh.

It was a pleasure. As long as your feeling philosophical is not related to melancholy, then I will look forward to more of your thoughts.




Um - the arrows - I just cut and pasted them from Word - I'm not THAT good!

Well, I guess it is related a little to melancholy. I tend to turn thoughts inward when I feel this way. It's not full on depression, not yet. And I'm fighting it hard. But this is the time of year that's hard to get through. February and October, for similar reasons, are the worst times for me. October because of my baby, and February because of my husband. As the date gets closer, it's hard to pretend I don't feel it all over again.

But like with Sara, I'll get through it, though I may feel like I'm not fit company for light hearted interaction here on some days.

 

[Noon_Shadow]

Thank you, Noon. There is a reason I've been lurking on Lit a bit more lately. Kinda shy I guess. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's hard to believe, huh.

Well, I guess it is related a little to melancholy. I tend to turn thoughts inward when I feel this way. It's not full on depression, not yet. And I'm fighting it hard. But this is the time of year that's hard to get through. February and October, for similar reasons, are the worst times for me. October because of my baby, and February because of my husband. As the date gets closer, it's hard to pretend I don't feel it all over again.

But like with Sara, I'll get through it, though I may feel like I'm not fit company for light hearted interaction here on some days.

He nods at her sympathetically, understandingly. I'm here also if you feel the need to grab someone to hug. Gives her a quick squeeze.

I just hope you continue doing okay.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

He nods at her sympathetically, understandingly. I'm here also if you feel the need to grab someone to hug. Gives her a quick squeeze.

I just hope you continue doing okay.

You've always been someone who was there for me, Noon, since I came here to the lounges. I know we play and flirt, but setting that aside, you've been a good friend too, a sympathetic and understanding person I could talk to about personal things. I am genuinely grateful for that.

But the shyness thing is related to something else. Actually, it's related to the last time we played in Plexi's Pool Palace with her. See, whenever I have role played a scene before, I didn't give much thought to the notion that other people would be reading it. I just did it for my partner's enjoyment as well as my own.

But when we played with Plexi that time, it was the first time I really became aware that other people were reading along. People posted comments about it in other threads, not wanting to interrupt the scene. It made me realize that even people who don't usually frequent the lounges read along.

I just never thought of it before, I guess. I don't, as a rule, read other people's scenes, because I think of it as private, between them and their partner. So while I note that it is going on, I don't read their posts. I guess it kind of makes me feel like a peeper in their window or something.

Well, so now, people contact me in PMs wanting to do scenes with me based on what they read that time, and a few other times, I guess. Anyway, now I feel self conscious about it, feeling like my focus is more on my writing about the scene than the enjoyment of it for myself. And I admit that lately, I've been feeling like I use the same phrases and descriptors too much, and that my creativity in writing has been off.

Not sure if that makes any sense or if I explained it right, but I hope so.