C.G.Ayling

Author: CGAyling

  • Submissive, to Society.

    Does society serve us, or do we serve society?

    In a conversation with a female friend she mentioned how she had been brought up to be submissive.  I felt an inexplicable pleasure at this and since I believe inexplicable deserves explanation, it set me to thinking.  The rather shame filled results of those thoughts appear below.

    There are powerful feelings embedded in words like submissive.  Powerful things I have realized are not all the good we’re raised to believe they are.  As a boy, I was trained to not show emotion, to “be strong”.

    What a crock of nonsense!

    Being strong bears no relationship whatsoever to our ability to suppress emotion.  Yet our loving parents are so conned by an uncaring, manipulative society that they raise their kids to fit neatly into predefined stereotypical roles.  Roles that religion reinforces to the benefit of a system structured to churn out obedient, unthinking thralls who will marry, and raise another generation of obedient, unthinking thralls.

    Society makes me sick.

    So why did my hearing a woman admit to being submissive make me feel good?  Because just like her, I’ve been raised in a stereotypic fashion.  My parents loved me, yet they also raised me to believe men should be dominant and women submissive.  That is wrong.

    It is incredibly difficult to break the mold in which we were shaped. If we’re to achieve a system where people actually matter more than their ability to serve society till they’re worn out…  If we’re to achieve a family that serves for more than churning out another generation for corporate mills or uncaring governments to use and discard…  If we’re to achieve something that matters then we must break the mold in which our characters where formed.

    We must teach our children that what lies in their hearts is theirs to decide, not ours to determine.  We must teach our children that they are valued, that they are loved, and that they are free. We must teach them to question, not to obey.  We must teach them that they are free to chart a course outside of the serfdom society needs to keep its skewed systems functioning.  They must learn that they are free to chart a course to happiness, wherever and with whomever they find it.  We must teach them that their happiness cannot be at the expense of others, and that if they are to matter then they must treat everyone they meet as also mattering.

    Both you and I have shackles we must break.  Those shackles bind us into a society of extreme disparity where the vast majority serve, and the miniscule minority do not.  Those shackles demand that we train our children to obedience over thought.  Those shackles are what make us favor the normal over the unique.  Those shackles make us value inanimate material objects over living beings.  Those shackles bind us, and in return they grant us nothing but an illusion of safety.  Those shackles don’t even attempt to grant us an illusion of dignity.

    I am no man’s servant.  Are you?

    Instead of clinging to an illusion of freedom let us cling instead to the hope of an understanding love.

  • What is True Friendship?

    I place inordinate value in true friendship. Likely because I have so few. So what is True Friendship, to me?

    ~ True Friendship ~
    ~
    We can talk of many anythings,
    and understand.
    We can talk of many anythings,
    and never judge.
    We can talk of many anythings,
    and be forgiven.
    We can talk of many anythings,
    and still feel that we are loved.
    ~

    To me, this is the nature of true friendship. I have, and have had, only three that meet this test. And yes, true friendship is indeed something you should never test.

    Some of my thoughts on friendship from Twitter appear below, perhaps you might enjoy reading them.  If you’re on Twitter you can forward them to your friends by retweeting them from right here, with the button inside each tweet.

    While you consider my thoughts on friendship, ask yourself how many true friendships you have, and how much they mean to you. To me, mine mean the world.

    The blood that binds friendship, flows not in veins. #thought

    One of the most powerful things about social media is it’s ability to eliminate distance as a factor in friendship. #thought

    Words, the anvil upon which friendship is formed, or destroyed.

    #FF you say? Well, for me that inspired a poem about friendship – read it here:- http://bit.ly/CGApFrn And never forget your friends.

    A friendship without trust might be better termed a mutual-use association.

    Friendship is not subject to time’s passage.

    a sign of true friendship is that time may pass, yet nothing changes, and when together again, all is, the same.

    True friendship is something to be treasured, not tallied.

    How is friendship formed? From mutual likes, respect, and trust? Perhaps knowing you can reveal your true nature, without fear of judgment?

    {If you enjoyed this please look around, you’ll find [Samples] of my work to read, and perhaps some pieces that might be even considered poetic.
    Indeed, you’ll even find a poem about friendship, }

  • How Measure You Success?

    ~ How Measure You Success? ~
    ~
    By the count of downy feathers
    with which you line your nest.
    By the plushness of the pillows,
    on which you lay your breast.
    ~
    By the count of coins,
    stashed in your hidden chests.
    By servants you train to pander,
    to your most trivial behest.
    ~
    By the count of people,
    you think you have impressed.
    By the loyalties,
    you so sorely stress.
    ~
    By the count of homes you hold,
    yet in which you never rest.
    By the adversaries you’ve defeated,
    and then have laid to rest.
    ~
    By the count of lovely women,
    who you’ve managed to undress.
    By the tender delicacies,
    that you so voraciously ingest.
    ~
    By the count of supposed friendships,
    put to unnecessary tests.
    By levels of anguish imparted,
    and your enemies’ distress.
    ~
    By trivial counts of truly irrelevant things,
    you’re certain you possess.
    By other people’s woe,
    and pleasures purely of the flesh.
    ~
    How measure I success,
    by the living beings,
    with whose love I have been blessed.
    ~

    P.S. Since it holds very powerful religious overtones to which I do not subscribe, I didn’t particularly like the choice of the word “blessed” to end this piece. However, my intent is to condense a couple of thoughts into a single word and it does seem to fit. Thoughts like… joy granted, both given and received, and any form of aid in even the most rudimentary way. Are these not real blessings that even the most materially impoverished can impart and accept? Share blessings without expectation of gain, and receive them gladly with an open heart. Always be generous with your love.

    {If you enjoyed this then look around, you’ll find [Samples] to read, and perhaps even some pieces that might be considered poetic.}

  • The things we do for love…

    An amazing song by 10cc, take a moment and listen…

    10cc – The things we do for love.

    to accompany an amazing image that never fails to pick me up.  What mother fails to love her progeny? None that I know.

    Giraffe-Kiss

    From: giraffe{@}longneck.inc
    Newsgroups: alt.binaries.pictures.animals
    Subject: An extra giraffe – Misha&Makulu-First_Kiss-iej.jpg
    Date: Sat, 18 Sep 1999 19:17:29 GMT

  • Whispered Words, We Share

    ~ Whispered Words ~
    ~
    Whispered words that make us sigh,
    whispered words, of joy so high,
    we fear our hearts might breach the sky,
    whispered words of sorrow deep,
    we cry.
    ~
    Whispered words of comfort true,
    whispered words, when words won’t do.
    whispered words pull me to you,
    whispered words of sky,
    so blue.
    ~
    Whispered words are love’s true start,
    whispered words, we’ll never part,
    whispered words reveal our heart,
    whispered words do we impart,
    whispered words so sweet,
    and tart.
    ~
    Whispered words of what we fear,
    whispered words, that draw us near,
    whispered words of truth or dare,
    whispered words only we will share,
    whispered words to show we care,
    whispered words are love’s
    true stare.
    ~
    Whispered words of childlike play,
    whispered words, for which we pray
    whispered words peel the layers away,
    whispered words our hardened hearts,
    do flay.
    ~
    Whispered words of yours and mine,
    whispered words, can cross all lines,
    whispered words of shivers fine,
    whispered words of tingled spine,
    whispered words so filled with love,
    they shine.
    ~
    Whispered words of love so deep,
    whispered words, to make hearts leap,
    whispered words
    send us
    to sleep.
    ~

    {Should you enjoy this piece, look around, who knows you might find other lyrical pieces you might like.}

  • Wonders of Nature.

    Julia accompanied me on a drive down to the hardware store to get some in-wall mounts for power receptacles {you can never have enough power, right?}. When I say I’m going somewhere and ask if anyone wants to come, Julia is the voice that answers. We take the time together to share thoughts from the mundane to the philosophic.

    On the drive there, Julia informed me that one of the things she would really like to see during her life, is the Baobab tree. Well, having been born and raised in the very country that is home to this amazing giant, I described my memories of the Baobab to her. Its strange glossy gray skin, how it feels almost slippery yet is completely dry. How it really has no wood per se, just a very compact fibrous makeup that feels woody but is not. We discussed creme of tartar, and the fruit pods from which the real McCoy {or the real McCoy as far as I’m concerned} is extracted. The Baobab really is a wonder of nature.

    Food for thought.

    Wandering around the store for a few minutes granted my mind the respite it needs to ruminate on the topic of discussion. For whatever reason, this became thoughts on the wonders of nature.

    Within nature, everything is a wonder.

    From the smallest living organisms to the largest. For inanimate, dead dust, to brilliant gems cut to reveal the reflected lights of the universe hidden within.  From the insignificant things we never see and seldom consider, to the most magnificent we personally encounter.

    For me far and away the most majestic, to the point of being a spiritual encounter, is the Giant Redwood. This magnificent tree is now limited to small parts of the north-western coastal area of the continental U.S.A.  Over 95% of the original old growth redwoods have been cut down and used for timber. Probably the only reason the Giant Redwoods have been spared this fate is that, as far as timber goes, Giant Redwoods are terrible. Their wood is unsuitable for construction, and there isn’t enough profit to be made from felling them for firewood.

    Magnificence, saved not for its wonder, but because man can’t consume it. How sad man can’t see past his own immediate needs, or the potential for profit, and grant all of nature the respect it deserves?

    So, if you do visit the U.S.A. the thing I would recommend seeing, over any other, is the Giant Redwood tree. Forget the Grand Canyon, New York City, Niagara Falls, and Las Vegas. Each of those has been ruined by commercialism. If you want to experience something truly majestic and life-altering, then stand beneath one of nature’s magnificent creations. {Yes, I would as gladly stand beneath a micro-organism, and would likely perceive equivalent magnificence within it, but sometimes size does indeed modify our perception.}

    As you stand beneath a Giant Redwood and gaze upwards you will feel time slow, the suddenly indecently hasty rush of blood through your veins, you will feel the earth alive and altering beneath your feet, and you will see the sky move, even if there is not a cloud in sight.  The feeling of life, of living, of being, I had when I did this was literally awe inspiring.  Will your experience similar things?  I can’t promise you will, but if all you do is sit in an air-conditioned car as you drive through one, sparing but an irritated, quick glance skyward as its shadow consumes the smartphone which so avidly holds your attention… Well, I can assure that then, you won’t.

    We humans are here for the span of a hundred years, if we are exceptionally long lived. Giant Redwoods are here for two thousand.  Some stood hundreds of feet tall even as Rome fell.  Let us not permit the mightiest of known living entities left on earth to fall because man finds something he can exploit with their demise.

    That would be a true tragedy, and mankind has visited enough tragedy upon humanity and our wonderful, wounded earth already.

     

  • moments, to make life worth living.

    My favorite youngest daughter, Julia, sent me this email today. Perhaps she sensed I was a bit down, perhaps she just wanted to say something she knows I love to hear… Anyway the words and poem below are Julia’s exact words, copy and pasted, errors intact as sometimes they should remain. I hope you enjoy Julia’s words as much as I do.

    ~

    So dad just wanted to tell this to you I love you. We both know It can get boring to tell someone this especially when its every day. But I think you can never tell someone this enough because you never know when one of you will be gone.

    ~

    You are the cup of tea thats waiting,

    the argument dissipating.

    The man thats ready to make it all better,

    but waits for it to blow up first so that I learn a lesson.

    The man that wouldn’t let me cut anything in cause I get hurt.

    But laughs a little when I do.

    Simply an

    I love you too.

  • The Fortress of a Father’s Arms.

    The image below is far more than a picture to me, it is an indelible image upon which I could never set a price.

    Dannielle was three, and ran to me to gain protection from the arms of her uncle, who dared request a hug.

    In my mind Dannielle’s expression is one of triumph, and also of daring her uncle approach and assault the fortress of her father’s arms. Instead of embarking on such folly, my brother was smart enough to take the picture – for which I am forever grateful.

    I dare you to come and get me! No? I didn't think so...
    I dare you to come and get me! No? I didn’t think so…

  • Where lies Eternity?

    Several things motivated this piece. A question from a friend, provoking realization that some truly good things end. One such thing was the very recent passage of a great man, back into the dust from whence all of us were formed.  Nelson Mandela returns to eternity’s pool, there to swim with the likes of other rare souls such as Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Teresa.

    I count myself blessed to have walked upon the face of this earth with two such gloriously serene souls. You should too.

    ~ Where lies Eternity? ~

    Is time the constant that it seems,
    or is it something mystical, and unseen,
    the immeasurable, between,
    varying with the wind,
    slowing its passage past the sun,
    or the age of the heart within.
    ~
    If eternity is merely time,
    does it vary with its where,
    or is it constant, and everywhere?
    Time multiplied, is eternity.
    Yet how measure we,
    this thing we so casually call,
    eternity?
    ~
    Longer than a universe’s life,
    or from a universe’s birth, till its demise,
    the trajectory of light, into a black hole,
    the gravity that marks,
    the circuit of a sun,
    or of a heavenly body, overrun,
    from humanity’s rise, until to its past due fall
    the duration, of a momentous human life,
    or the entire passage, of a seemingly insignificant fly,
    where in all these things, does eternity lie?
    ~
    Or is it shorter still,
    from a dusk, until wherever’s new dawn
    a single day, trapped in a job that we despise,
    hours, spent in bliss,
    with the ones we so will miss,
    the duration of a dream,
    another changeling thing,
    or a minute, in a chastised child’s eye,
    the full circuit of, a single drop of blood,
    as it courses through our veins,
    does eternity terminate,
    when our blood’s movement, ends,
    when our blood becomes still?
    ~
    I think that it might,
    and thus is a soul’s plight,
    to return to the void,
    and there
    to begin,
    Again.

    ~
    {Should you so wish, you may find other bits of thought cast in lyrical form on the page named [Samples], linked above. Or simply browse around my blog, or head back into the web without further pause – your choice, this a moment of your eternity, to be spent as you will.}

  • Links

    Another single verse, prompted by a tweet, that was in turn prompted by another tweet.


    Twitter’s 140 character limitation curtailed it, so below is the “real thing”.

    ~ Links ~

    The bond that binds,
    is the emptiness between,
    it can’t be touched,
    it can’t be seen,
    its distance is measured in dream,
    yet for all these things,
    that bond binds stronger than any steel.

    As with so many things in life, I’m left wondering about better.