Author Topic: What kind of creature are you in the Unicorn Forest? Come play with me - please  (Read 67591 times)

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Offline Satinjoy

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Now sh'e is crying, and crying hard.

So many tears since I started this journey, so many partings, so much pain.

How many times shall my heart be broken?

But I will always stay.  I love too deeply not too.

Had the elf not come, so long ago, sh'e would have died.  And so much has happened since then.

Morpheus: This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the red pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the little blue pills - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes

Sh'e took the little blue ones.

Offline ErinWDK

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Alles ging Kaput

The forest is deathly still.  The cold driving rains have come and swept away everything before them.  There are no more flowers.  There are no more paw prints from happy forest dwellers to show their continuing presence.  The Walrus cries deep, bitter, tears.  The Pixie Sprite deep within still wishes to frolic; but to do that all alone — again — is too much for her.  She cries even more bitter tears.

It is time to go back to the great northern sea, to the rest of Walrus kind.  The trip is long, and the old Walrus is feeble.  This will be a harder trip than the happier one to the forest.  Waves and waves of tears wash down their old weatherbeaten face.

Faith…  Faith shows itself when the going gets tough.  A wise man once said:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail,
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold,
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will exult in the Lord,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.

(Habakkuk 3:17&18)

The Walrus sets off on their way, dragging their weary body one fitful lurch at a time.  The trip back to the northern sea is long; but the Walrus must do this to survive.  Their solitary ice floe awaits them.  However, like Habakkuk, their faith WILL remain.

Offline Satinjoy

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Alles ging Kaput

The forest is deathly still.  The cold driving rains have come and swept away everything before them.  There are no more flowers.  There are no more paw prints from happy forest dwellers to show their continuing presence.  The Walrus cries deep, bitter, tears.  The Pixie Sprite deep within still wishes to frolic; but to do that all alone — again — is too much for her.  She cries even more bitter tears.

It is time to go back to the great northern sea, to the rest of Walrus kind.  The trip is long, and the old Walrus is feeble.  This will be a harder trip than the happier one to the forest.  Waves and waves of tears wash down their old weatherbeaten face.

Faith…  Faith shows itself when the going gets tough.  A wise man once said:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail,
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold,
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will exult in the Lord,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.

(Habakkuk 3:17&18)

The Walrus sets off on their way, dragging their weary body one fitful lurch at a time.  The trip back to the northern sea is long; but the Walrus must do this to survive.  Their solitary ice floe awaits them.  However, like Habakkuk, their faith WILL remain.

You are not alone.

Come warm yourself by my fire.  My treehouse is open to you.
Morpheus: This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the red pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the little blue pills - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes

Sh'e took the little blue ones.

Offline Sno

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It came a time to rest,
Take stock,
Enjoy.
Warm by the fire,
servitude need met.
Simple kindred trust.

The journey has not been kind to the poor old bear,
Weary from another winter,
Happy to quietly contemplate the paint on acorns,
Smell the sweet incense and watch
The flicker flare of fire spring light and warmth
Casting shadow and blaming comfort.

The scars are deep.
Periodically they will weep, although the bear struggles.
And they make their presence felt.

Fear not sweet walrus. The forest adapts.

So it is providing sweet water for you to frolic and enjoy.

Offline ErinWDK

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There are a number of "parts" in my Internal Family System.  Several of these identify as female (in this shabby, old, AMAB body).  For over half a century -- while I was in deep denial -- only one of those parts stood up and insisted on being counted as female.  I have regarded this part as being one of the second tier parts (i.e., not as important, and with a singular focus).  Day by day she proves me wrong...

It is this part that says "Why do you want to withdraw here?"  She is looking beyond all the allegory.  Of course a real walrus can not live in a real enchanted forest.  Allegory.  The "real" Walrus aspect of me is a side of my persona that reflects being depressed -- GUILTY.  Real walruses are large, ungainly, can't climb trees, sleep a lot of the time, and tend to be too gassy.  Sometimes I feel truly charming... 

However, me is me.  At the moment I do not see anything useful I can do here.  The Anne part of me cuts to the chase.  I don't have to do anything.  There is no reason to say "I will fight no more forever."  All I need to do is find a spot out of the rain and hang on.  So I will.

Thank you Sno and Satinjoy for showing me your love!

Offline Sno

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There is always welcome in the forest

(Hugs)

Rowan

Offline Satinjoy

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And the forest is a place where a Walrus can fly.
Morpheus: This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the red pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the little blue pills - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes

Sh'e took the little blue ones.

Offline Satinjoy

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I had to pop in, there were 666 replies, can't let that happen, has to be 667 now....

Best to all from the Fairy.

As the elf said, life has not been kind, and I am out there struggling through it.

As we all are, the clouds of oppression from the lands of the cis are over our forest, it is very dark and fear grips all our hearts.
Morpheus: This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the red pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the little blue pills - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes

Sh'e took the little blue ones.

Offline GingerVicki

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I'm the one looking for a rock to hide under.
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Offline Satinjoy

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I was looking for my sword, and have been using it.
Morpheus: This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the red pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the little blue pills - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes

Sh'e took the little blue ones.

Offline Sno

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Rock, or burrow.

Soil under a cool leaf, simple
Earthen comfort,
Fragrant with the quiet
Snap of dried leaves and twigs,
Fallen riches from seasons past.

Deep tilled soil of history,
Protected and protecting
The leafy canopy above,
Providing privacy, seclusion and quiet
Healing.
Rest. Time. Understanding.


Offline Asche

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The year has turned dark and cold, and most of the creatures of the forest have retired to den or nest or fireside to wait out the winter, but the old groundhog is still seeking out leaves and roots and the odd nut, in hopes of fattening herself up enough to keep her until spring.  She's also gathered dry leaves and needles and the odd bit of loose hairs off of bushes to line her den and keep her warm, since her fur has become patchy and doesn't keep the cold out the way it used to.

She is somehow reminded of the time when, as a kit, she ventured too far down the creek's bank and slid in.  She remembers how she helplessly scratched in the water, hoping in vain to find solid ground beneath her, and how finally one of the elders took pity on her and grabbed her by the tail and pulled her back onto shore.  Only now it is the river of life she is caught in, which whirls her about willy-nilly and offers her no ground to give purchase for her claws.  And there are no elders to rescue her from this creek.

She is perhaps fortunate to be a "dumb animal," for whom the past is a shadow and the future a blank and only the present is real, for she cannot conceive of her end.  She knows the struggle of the moment, but not the consequence of failure.
"...  I think I'm great just the way I am, and so are you." -- Jazz Jennings



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Offline Lisa89125

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Oh why not.

I'm a Phoenix.  ;)

My pet happens to be a thylacine.  ;D

Lisa


"My inner self knows better than my outer self my true gender"

Not yet quite ready to post my real self.

Offline Tessa James

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Oh yes!  Our dear groundhog is denning and staying cozy warm while a new phoenix has been spotted with her Tasmanian thylacine in tow.  fortunately our needs are well met in the unicorn forest with love, sharing and cooperative living.  We celebrate the seasons and now the solstices as the north lightens up and the south begins to dim again with this turn of the earth and seas.  Relationships are feely entered here and we linger for a while and liberate ourselves as we need. 

I imagine wrapping my shimmering fairy wings around you and sharing our love, strength and power to create more.  please be well until chance we meet in this mossy place again.
Open, out and evolving queer trans person forever with HRT support since March 13, 2013

Offline Lisa89125

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Thank you for the warm welcome into the unicorn forest.

It's quiet peaceful here, no raging torrents of chaos and confusion. Just tranquil piece and quiet. A safe harbor to rest and relax away from the prying eyes of the world. A place to feel protected and loved. Everything in abundance that we could ever need. All freely shared amongst all creatures both big and small. O yes, A fine place indeed!

I imagine giving you big hugs with my giant wings. My Thylacine is friendly and would like to offer a shake of her paw.

Lisa


"My inner self knows better than my outer self my true gender"

Not yet quite ready to post my real self.

Offline Tessa James

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Oh that felt sooo good even if our wings got a bit ruffled in flying over the turbulence.  It is safe here, we are permissive and free to yield our heavy cares to the waters of light and laughter.  We shape shift and reappear anywhere we wish with a twist and a turn. 

Wood smoke and music draw us toward a clearing where creatures of all sort drum, hum and share the warmth of companionship.  Funny how often we stop to dance and party....
Open, out and evolving queer trans person forever with HRT support since March 13, 2013

Offline Artistic_Gene

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The equivalent to a quirky and slightly annoying water ballon with arms, flopping about on the ground and occasionally spewing my contents at others as a defense mechanism. Also purple because purple is best color :)
Copious lukewarm cucumbers for a brain

Offline Sno

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Purple is so good :)

Welcome home, to the forest.


Rowan

Offline Tessa James

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We do spewing and flopping here often, if irregularly.  Since the forest is ours it is sometimes shared in the deepest darkest parts where greens give way to those reds and even purple shades of depth and meaning. 

 
Open, out and evolving queer trans person forever with HRT support since March 13, 2013

Offline Michelle_P

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...and from time to time, in the misty woods, we gather.  The elven ones, our philosophers and guardians, the witch, and the warriors, all gathered about to share stories and the firelight, warming ourselves and sharing in preparing an evening feast.  We gather and find fellowship in our dining and tales, before we pass into the night.
Earth my body, water my blood, air my breath and fire my spirit.

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