Exist Loudly

Falling Whistles

This is a two part entry:
I’ve been in a bit of funk since I came back from Asheville. While in Asheville, I kind of had a spiritual cleansing of memories, of letting go of my Mom, but realizing she’s here by just looking up to the sky. Finally realizing I was going to be just fine without her came to me earlier this month. Letting go came to me last Thursday while driving towards & walking around Asheville. Friday, Saturday, & Sunday came the realization that letting go sucks giant donkey balls. Not because I let go but because the pain I had in my heart is gone and now there is an empty space. I instantly want to cram back all the pain so it’s not empty, but I know that is not good for me or healthy for me. I don’t like that empty space. It doesn’t feel very feng shui for my soul, yet I know that space will be filled by the right thing at the right time.
Today, as I diligently caught up on a week’s worth of work from my vacation last week, I kept reflecting to my oldest niece. We had a conversation between niece & aunt a few weeks back. It was basically me, telling her that she shouldn’t let what others say and do dash her hopes and dreams. I wanted to give her something to that she could hold onto and know that it made a difference. I’ve made her jewelry, bought her crosses, and other items, but I wanted it to also inspire her and then it hit me.
A whistle.
It could symbolize hope, and it could help if she’s ever lost in the dark, and most of all, when people ask, she’d have an amazing story to tell. A story that could help others.
I got the idea from my friend Krissie who wears this whistle around her neck and I always ask her about it. Remembering bits & pieces of the story but not the entire thing.
Today I remembered it all.
A whistle as a weapon held in the hands of children who aren’t strong enough or big enough to hold a gun. I went to the website Falling Whistles and new immediately this is what I could give my niece. Though it was designed as a weapon for their war, I wanted it to be her weapon of how people could change the world one thought, one prayer, one wish, one hope at a time. For her to remember that no matter how many cruel humans existed in the world, there were far more great humans in the world. The human spirit that lifts versus shoving you down. The human spirit that loves versus hates. The human spirit that helps versus ignore.  Yes, she may be only eleven, but there’s enough ugly out there for her to already be exposed to and for every bit of that ugly, I’m determined to show her the beauty of the world that is around her.
Listening to “Watch Over You” by Alter Bridge