Welcome to Flames of a Candle
thegodmolecule:


here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
 

This is beautiful, I can’t even explain how I feel, but I feel it. You will too!

thegodmolecule:

here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.

And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.



In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.



The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

 

This is beautiful, I can’t even explain how I feel, but I feel it. You will too!

Help start a home-based business. Donations needed to fund furnishings/equipment for small office.

sivense:

To youclickedthis tumblr

Awwwww

sivense:

To youclickedthis tumblr

Awwwww

CISPA QUIETLY BEING FORCED THRU SHADED BY BOSTON EVENTS

While we are being distracted by events in Boston, CISPA  happening: https://57un.wordpress.com/2013/03/11/cispa-whos-for-it-and-whos-against-it/

Be Grateful

Be grateful for each day and everything in it. Each day when you get home from work or school, stop for a moment and find that one positive thing that happened that day. It doesn’t have to be big and flashy. Then be grateful for that positive event. Concentrate on it. 

Please click, re-blog, vote, click, dance upside down, whatever you have to do to vote for me. Lets make tumblr work in a way that would absolutely declare us debt free. Come on tumblr fans, you can do this.

http://origin-www.dousaflavour.ca/en/flavour/589755/

Reblog if you were ever bullied.

the-fabulous-mk:

gentlyriseandsoftlycall:

zeecannotfly:

music-saves-me-everyday:

picture-of-a-promise:

theredfairy:

suicidal-eyes:

children-of-divorce:

downfromthedoorwhereitbegan:

007-reporting:

angelsontheearth:

17851

That’s disgusting.

Well done society.

Well done.

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If you had the power to force one person to only meow and purr as forms of verbal communication, while keeping all other personality, physical and mental traits, who would you choose?
Anonymous

My ex-husband. That would be funny.

sivense:

image

You can’t even buy gum with 180

Snoop aint got nuthin on you dawg

LOVE owls. So cute.

LOVE owls. So cute.