Good Grief

Of all the injustices in the world, those done against me always masquerade as most grievous. Surely, no one knows my sorrows like I do. Certainly, no one can say their troubles were more important than mine.

I hear of wars and famines and terrible natural disasters in which hundreds of thousands of people die, lose loved ones, lose their homes and all their worldly possessions. And yet, my momentary heartbreak, my singular, personal, at home catastrophe is at once more pronounced and miserable than all the rest.

How foolish is the human heart which grieves alone and suffers in sorrow and cannot rouse itself from melancholy sufficiently to see the great and terrible wonders that have devoured a neighbor or capsized a nation.

Truly, everyone suffers. All who pass through mortality endure great pains of all kinds. Pain is the energy of change. It is an essential element to growth and development. The unpleasantness of pain motivates us to do something differently to alleviate the problem causing the pain.

If my troubles seem minimized, I am assuaged, convinced of my own well being in comparison to others. But if I hurt, if I grieve, if I struggle, then, and only then do I heal, grow, become.

Let sorrow, therefore, be unto me the fertilizer tilled into my garden's soil, that when the seed thus planted receives of the waters and light of Christ, my tree will sprout, strengthen, take root, branch out, blossom, and bear fruit worthy of a King's trained palette.

Peace

There are few things better than a bit of pure peace.

Fun is great, but can't last long given the average human capacity for endurance. Power is just exhausting, and confusing. Order and Organization can be helpful, but also very restricting.

But in a moment of pure peace, creativity flourishes, intelligent thought flows freely, memory relives joy, and conversation is enabled.

Without those peaceful moments, one cannot find solace in God's embrace, cannot reflect on one's experiences, and cannot learn from one's mistakes.

Without peace, the heart aches, the mind becomes overwhelmed, and the future begins to seem unavoidable and inexplicably bleak.

Pain is the energy of change. But Peace is solace to the soul.

Regrets

I think we all come to a point in our lives where we look back and wonder what could have been. We look at what we've become so far and we're not satisfied, and wonder why. Or we look at someone who seems to have it all and ask ourselves how we missed that train. Perhaps we're feeling sorrow for opportunities lost and wishing we could go back and reclaim them.

And since blame is always easier to give than to receive, we tend to look at the people around us with perhaps a bit too much anger, resentment, or spite. We say, "If only I hadn't married so young," or, "Why did the children have to come along so soon," or, "If I'd had more support, maybe I would have finished college, done something with my degree, or had a better career."

Intrinsic in each of these claims is the notion that circumstances were beyond our control, that other people held the reins and we were just along for the ride, jolted to and fro in a buggy we'd not wanted to be in to begin with.

But Truth is a noble trait for a reason. Nobility is not something to which one is born. It is not inherited by right. Nobility is something learned and earned.

A wise person once said, "Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from poor judgment." I'm not certain of the origin of that statement, but I am certain of it's veracity. Nobility is the capacity for excellent judgment. Truth is a noble trait because one cannot judge well when one's beliefs are not founded in truth.

It's always easier taking the falsehoods we believe at face value than it is to really examine what we believe.

It's not just the one spouse who is to blame for a young marriage. Both parties said, "I Do." One might just as easily complain that marriage came too late.

The children didn't decide for themselves when to be born. The parents, both parents, chose to engage in those activities that produce children. Many who were never granted children, or who were only able to bear them later in their lifetimes, are similarly unhappy with the hand they were dealt.

And no one is more in charge of a college education than the one who is being educated. After all, no teacher can teach a student who is unwilling to learn. And students whose focus is on their education will find a way, whatever it takes, to accomplish their goals. Plus, it is never too late to learn something new.

It is easy to play the blame game with our regrets. But it is far nobler to recognize the opportunity before us when we realize we have regrets. As regrets are the natural consequence of bad judgment, once we acknowledge our mistakes we can say we're already two thirds of the way. We've made poor judgments, experienced the results of that, and if we are true to ourselves, the choice is now before us to make better judgments, better choices, thereby reaping better rewards.

It's time to turn regrets into new opportunities.

The Deae; Parcaen Mythology

In the time before time, there were three great Deae, resplendent, formidable, amaranthine. In the world before the world, these exquisite sisters, daughters of the Great God of all Heaven, were granted a boon of their father. He would give them a world of their own to mold, create and populate. The only condition given them was that they must share the world between them, for their father wished for his daughters to love each other.

But the sisters were stubborn, selfish, and spoiled, and did not wish to share. After pleading with their father failed to win them the bounty of two additional worlds to endow with their blessings, the sisters settled upon a compromise of sorts. The world they would create would be separated into three distinct and equal portions. Each sister would create her own land masses and waterways, and none would interconnect. The people who would populate each section would speak different languages, maintain different cultures, and would not interact with one another. There would be three worlds in one.

But their father, fearing that his efforts would be in vain, rejected their plan, reminding his daughters that a planet that did not flow with waters unhindered could not sustain life. To appease their father, the Deae decided that the waters of their world would flow without restraint, and there would be one great body of water that would touch every continent, but there would be three separate and distinct countries whose borders would never change.

Seeing that his beautiful but dreadful daughters would not be further persuaded, the King of the Gods approved their plan for a world of three worlds, and placed in the Deae's hands the powers and tools needed to begin their creation. But to ensure that the three would have to work together, he gave to one sister the power to create life, to another the power to sustain life, and to the third, the power to end life. Thus, all vegetation, all creatures, and all people would be subject to all three of the Deae.

And so the youngest of the sisters created her part of the world and called it Parca. And she named herself Nona, and her sisters Decima and Morta. The middle sister created her part of the world and called it Moer. And she named herself Lachesis, and her younger sister Clotho and her older sister Atropos. And the oldest sister created her part of the world and called it Nor. And she named herself Skulda, and her sisters Ura and Veroandi.

The people of Parca referred to the three Deae as the Parcae. The Moeraens called them the Moerae. The Noraens called them the Norns. But each of these names translated roughly into: the Fates.

Now, the Fates were not the only children of the Great God of Heaven and his Goddess of the Sky. The Horae, or Seasons (Eunomia, Dike, and Eirene) were a second set of triplet sisters, and these had daughters also called Horae, or Hours. The Nymphae also were sisters of the Fates and the Seasons, and these were primarily concerned with mortal emotions, desires, and passions. And then there was their one and only brother, Prometheus. Now, all these sisters tended to be very controlling of their mortal subjects, forcing their collective will upon the poor souls of the planet, and Prometheus, being an only son, was stubbornly attached to his ideas of freedom, choice, and power over one's own destiny. Thus a fierce battle between him and his many sisters was imminent.

However, the Great God of Heaven had a second wife, Mnemosyne, who bore to him nine more daughters, each of whom was both beautiful and graceful, and these were known as the Muses. Charged by the Father of Heaven with the task of providing inspiration and direction to the mortals of all worlds, these nine sisters were united in their undying love for Prometheus, for without freedom of choice, what purpose can there be in inspiration or the giving of direction? Thus each of the nine was wedded to him in turn, and each produced one offspring, nine more daughters, and these were given the gift of Charity, each in her own way. So the Charities became instruments in the hands of Prometheus and the Muses in promoting freedom among mortals.

The Fates, desirous that their plans not be thwarted by their brother and his wives and daughters, took issue with the providences granted by the Charities, and cursed them to live as though they were mortals themselves, saying, "If you have such love for mortals, go and live among them and suffer along with them." And so it was that the nine Charities were thrust down to the three-sided world, their powers retained, but their glory denied, forever cursed to live among mortals, to love and cherish them, and yet to watch as Thanatos, or Death, brother of the Father God, claimed them each in turn. To ease their heartsick burden, Thanatos' twin brother Hypnos provided the ability to sleep indefinitely to the Charities, if they so chose. And it is said, that when mortals make choices that anger or sicken or disappoint the Charities in some way, that they choose to sleep for a time, waiting until some mortal seeks them out and wakes them in search of better gifts.

The Triterricus Festival

There could not have been a better day to hold the Festival. The goddesses smiled upon the land with great favor that day in honor of the tri-annual celebration. The suns' rays were unchecked by cloud or cold, and the light breeze only served to provide an extra layer of comfort. Today, Gian knew, was bound to be one for the history books. The reading he had taken from the stars last night agreed with his assessment, and he prepared himself with happy anticipation. Today, something grand and everlasting would begin. He hummed a quiet tune as he dressed, his servant, Haakon, smiling indulgently. Haakon had never been one to believe in signs in the heavens or the weather. He argued that a man makes his own destiny, with the goddesses' blessing. But Gian had known too many disasters to occur at times when the planets and stars aligned themselves to predict such. The Parcae were particularly cruel betimes, and Gian had pointed to Haakon's family's history, a sordid tale of tragedy and betrayal resulting in Haakon's father's decision to indenture Haakon to the Parcaen Royal Family, as proof. But Haakon relentlessly argued that his position in the Royal House could be seen as either a blessing or a curse, or it could be viewed as an opportunity, and Haakon would choose the latter to his dying breath.

Noraen Mythology

In the Time before time, the King of the Gods had many children, each of which was given a realm over which to rule and from which to create a world of mortals. Among His children were triplet daughters who were physically identical in every way, but whose personalities clashed so fiercely that the three of them refused to look one another in the eye.

To help these daughters learn to get along and work together, he assigned them to the Realm of Fate at the center of the Kingdom of Heaven where stood the Mighty Tree and the Well of Fate.

The Tree had three main roots. One of them reached across the Kingdom of Heaven to the far eastern edge, another likewise to the far western edge. The third root extended itself southward into the Realm of the Dead.

At the base of the tree, a spring of water burst forth from the ground, flowing with living water. This was the Well of Fate. Embedded in the banks of the river were smooth white stones, round and mostly flattened. Three of these stones were as translucent as a looking glass, and by looking into one of them, a Heavenly Being could see into the past, the future, or see the events of the present in a perfect light. These were the Seer Stones.

Here in the Realm of Fate these troublesome daughters would learn to use their gifts to help and serve each other, and hopefully cease their endless bickering.

At the command of her Father, the oldest of the Three Sisters put her hand into the gushing Well of Fate and pulled out a Seer Stone which showed to her all the events of the past for as far back as she wished to look. The Sister was pleased with her gift and said to herself that now her understanding was full, for all that is has come from all that once was.

The middle Sister thrust her hand into the Well of Fate and pulled out another Seer Stone. When she looked into it, she exclaimed with pleasure that now all around her seemed grand and adventurous, for she could clearly see the present day and appreciate the opportunities afforded to every creature who would seize the moment without hesitation.

The youngest Sister looked into the Well of Fate and spotted the final Seer Stone beneath the rushing waters. With a sense of trepidation, she retrieved the Stone and looked into it. With trembling limbs and awesome dread, she exclaimed that no man or God should ever be allowed to look into her Stone, and that She alone would guard its knowledge with steadfastness. For were any being to know as certainly as she now knew the fate of all that is, surely that being could not help but intervene in the events to come.

With their gifts acquired and their realm assigned, the King of the Gods, Father of all, gave his daughters a final task. For every mortal born anywhere in the universe, the Sisters would look into their stones and grant that soul a Fate. The eldest Sister would look to the past to pull an appropriate thread from the branches of the Mighty Tree. This thread was to represent all that came together to grant life to that mortal. The middle sister would use this thread and her understanding of the Now to weave a tapestry to represent the gifts, talents, abilities and experiences that this mortal would possess. And finally, the youngest sister would use her knowledge of the future to determine the moment at which to cut the thread, signifying the end of that mortal's life.

And so it was that these three Sisters became known as The Fates.