But Words
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.
We’ve all heard it, we’ve all said it, at some point in life.
As a sibling to a sibling.
As a nicey to a meanie.
As a comeback to a bully.
Sticks and stones.
I was curious where and how this phrase began
& so,
I googled
& did you know this adage, although reworded a time or two, has been around since 1830 ?
Alexander William Kinglake is credited with it’s origin.
Yep.
Wikipedia informs …
The rhyme persuades the child victim of name-calling to ignore the taunt, to refrain from physical retaliation, and to remain calm and good-living.
To remain calm and good-living.
I like that.
For although it seems hatefulness has surrounded us for eons,
I know of an emotion that has been here longer
& I am privy to it’s higher ground.
Stronger, is what I become.
Confident, secure and certain is who I am.
Love.
My infinite protector.
My unbreakable force field.
My conqueror of all.
Love.
With it’s incredible simplicity and genuineness and willing and wonderful, it opens
& heals
& oftentimes feels compassion for the unfortunate carriers of sticks and stones who seem unable to realize, their destiny is failure.
All the time.
Every time.
Yes, Love.
We believers of you shall remain calm and good-living
& when that pesky insect of ugliness shows itself again and yet again ?
No worries.
Those words may sometimes hurt, often shock and definitely appall,
but they will never, EVER break us.
