pathy

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A play at what I picture the English older country  to looklike, (currently inspired reading All Creatures Great and Small)featuring a sweater vest bedecked in sheep. Worn over a silk, high necked blouse AND a brown dress to tame any itch factor from the 100% wool.
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Red suede shoes, with patterned socks and argyle leg warmers.
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A scarf tied in a loose bow makes doubly sure that I do nothing that undermines the marm vibe.
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The sweater vest is a vintage Pendleton, made in the USA. Quite thrilling to find, not only for the lastingness, but also for the iconic sheep motif. Courtesy of the Salvation Army 99cent sale, and the dress too. I pushed up the sleeves of the dress to tug down  a puffed/blouson forearm effect with the green shirt under.

For one of the three bookclubs I’m in, I began reading an autobiography written by a man who has been absolutely shredded in body and soul by a lifetime of intense abuse. He gave fair warning in the prelude, in words that provided no hint that there was peace or hope or reaffirmation waiting at the end.  Mostly, he makes his chronicle as a grasp at therapy, uncertain of the possibility of such.

I knew it would not be enjoyable, and I am not seeking to gawk and cluck over the shocking misfortune of others.  I still determined to read on, though my heart already labors under the effort to hold on to light and love in days of dark tidings.

I feel we owe it to the burdened and suffering to take notice, and not succumb to the ease that would abandon them to their suffering, turning away to willfully ignore.  I do not like to read the details of his pain, but more I do not want to leave unheeded his efforts to no longer carry it alone , I will join the lamentation and burn at injustice. I am an unknown stranger, but when emotion wells forth in response to another’s trauma, that is a small contribution to not after all letting evil hold sway.

It makes me think of the moral and soul aspects of responding to refugees, to the starving, to the abused and poor and addicted diseased. How dare we look away?  To dismiss the sympathy that sounds in human hearts, in such close kin to love, risks all.

 

The book is “Kicked in the Teeth,” by James Rowe.

 

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Alex says:

    I am no longer sure the place you’re getting your info, however good topic. I must spend a while learning much more or working out more. Thank you for wonderful information I used to be searching for this information for my mission.

    Like

    1. nicholebiber says:

      Hi! The book was linked to a Kindle provided by the e-book club I joined. That may be the only way to access this author’s work, as I was not able to find a hard copy through the library system. The thoughts are my own, likely bolstered by years of practicing literary critique. I’m a Doctor of Philosophy, officially.

      Like

  2. Irma Morgan says:

    You really make it appear really easy with your presentation however I to find this matter to be really one thing which I believe I would by no means understand. It seems too complicated and extremely broad for me. I am taking a look forward in your next post, I’ll attempt to get the cling of it!

    Like

    1. nicholebiber says:

      Greetings, thank you for the reading. I do like to unleash the wanderings of my prose, and certainly welcome any questions for clarification. I tend to think conversationally between various ideas, and so am well suited to rehashing any thought in light of other’s questions and observations.
      I also like the sound of words in my head, particularly in the form of roundabout sentences, and so wholly recognize that my writing tends to an oblique style.
      But I do like questions.

      Like

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