It Was Felicity

May 25, 2019

It Was Felicity

I’ve worked at horse barns most of my life, spending time since age two on my Uncle Mike’s farm, learning to ride my cousin Kimmie’s pony Princey at age four. By fourteen I had my first barn job. I mucked stalls, cleaned tack and walked sweaty school horses in endless laps around countless rings for hours a day in exchange for a one-hour weekly lesson. Silver spoon background, I had not: no wealthy parents fostered my passion. I’ll never forget my disbelief at that last job witnessing the Olympic finals teenage rider who’d worn out her show pony throw her engraved sterling silver spurs to the ring gravel as she pulled off her boots, and another throw a helmet that cost as much as a month of lessons. That is, would cost if I, my working single-mother self could’ve afforded them. No, I earned this.

In adulthood, I managed barns, training horses in exchange for board for my own. Motherhood had its own price, and to keep horses in my life required labor expenditure on my part. The difference was that commensurate with my skills came responsibility and respect. I was a self-made equestrian; I had an interesting lifestyle offering stability to my two children because I had no familial or monetary support – even court-ordered child support was held withheld from us by a mad world… but I had horses. Whether my own or others’, I was their keeper, caregiver and sometimes, their last friend. For man has a cruel hand with animals, and most humans refuse to acknowledge how heartless they themselves can be.

With my children grown, my immersion into the horse world increased. I began managing show barns, eventing, dressage, Lexington Cup, then working for Olympic level riders, caring for their million dollar horses. With wealth seemed even greater disregard. Often, I was closer to the horses than their owners.

At that last barn in 2007 was a horse named Felicity. A prematurely aged, emaciated mare; outgrown by the owner’s daughters, then leased for show like a rental car. She had literally run her heart out; they call it broken wind. Labored breath and imbalanced step was her existence. I wondered why they didn’t euthanize her, as I gave her the daily injections they kept her alive with, her suffering made worse by lack of touch. The owners wouldn’t touch her. Money was their love.

One Summer evening, as I arrived to turn out the heat-of-day-stalled equine athletes for their one hour of turnout while I cleaned their stalls, I knew it was Felicity’s time to go. Arriving there after my day job in the hour that ushers twilight in, I went to her stall first and found her chest against the wall, her throttled neck hanging in dead weight over the window ledge, with labored breath and fear in her eyes. “We’re getting spinner rims on our rigs. We can’t come. The vet’s going to put her down in the morning”, one of the owners said when I called.

They were going to let her die alone and didn’t even leave me a note.

Putting my cellphone back my pocket, with all my strength of body and will I lifted her head back out of the window, wrapping myself under her neck. We aren’t supposed to do this, they can crush us if we fall. I supported her all the way to the field gate, reluctantly leaving her standing there as I went to turn out the other four horses. I heard Felicity hit the ground from two barns and an indoor ring away. Grabbing a horse blanket, I ran. A velvet mist coated the dusk, and my eyes caught her silhouette at center of the fenceline at the west edge of the field. Experience had taught me to pad their heads against the ground lest in the throes of death their eyes are gouged out. I kept that blanket under her head and went around in circles with her as her flailing hooves sought one last hold and she gasped for air, eyes seeing beyond wild. She was not going to let life go.

A soft rain began to fall, and without thinking, I remembered asking the owners if she had ever had babies, and was told she’d had one stillborn foal, and was never bred again. Risking safety, I grabbed her head between my hands. Her lips were pulled back as she gnashed her teeth and it was dangerous, her hooves striking in all directions in wild last extensions, running from the end. “Felicity! Felicity! Listen to me, Felicity! Your baby’s out there, do you see her? She’s in the grass; she’s waiting for you to go nurse her. Go to her, go nurse your baby, Felicity!” My hands on each side of her cheeks, I pulled her gaze to where I was looking into the sunset mist and I saw her baby on the green grass waiting in the rain, looking toward her mommy. I did, and she did too. Her neck arched, and her lips curled back in a death rattle froth of foam for what seemed like forever. I held her face looking into her eyes and I saw not death, but Life. I saw her run to her baby in the green grass in the rain. I saw beyond an ending to the eternity waiting before us. Felicity helped me to see.

Laura R. Brooks
Written March, 2013

Felicity – noun; [mass noun]

1. Intense happiness.
Example sentences:
‘What he’s talking about – as always – is how to lead a good and therefore happy life; he loved productivity and valued felicity.’
‘In this respect they work as much in favor of happiness in this world as of felicity in the next.’
‘We suspect felicity is not likely to accompany a sense of entitlement, which arises from a sullen sense that not only are things not improving but that that is because we have no control – the world does not appreciate our true worth.’
‘For such a person, felicity after death could be higher than felicity before death. But felicity is, in the end, something to be sought.’
‘All we have to do is speak our preferences plainly and a whole new world of mutual felicity should arise.’

2. The ability to find appropriate expression for one’s thoughts.
Example sentences:
‘He exposed the kernel of the matter with his elegance and felicity of expression, and audacities of phrase struck him as grotesque monstrosities, where everything was absurd, unreal, and impossible.’
‘An original thinker always alertly attuned to contemporary culture, he was admired for his intellectual style and the felicity with which he expressed his ideas.’
‘Authentic humans draw on experience and felicity of expression, courage and uncompromising values to become witnesses to truth.’

Synonyms:
Eloquence, aptness, appropriateness, appropriacy, suitability, suitableness, applicability, fitness, relevance, pertinence, correctness, rightness
Example sentences:
‘I have wondered, for instance, whether it is more a sense of brushstroke rather than verbal felicity that makes for some of the most arresting words and imagery in the arts.’
‘It has been admired for ‘its simplicity, its dignity, its power, its happy turns of expression the music of its cadences, and the felicities of its rhythm.’
‘Innocent jokes depend upon verbal felicities, puns, play upon words, combining incongruous words, oscillating between occasional felicities amidst triviality.’

Origin
Late Middle English: from Old French felicite, from Latin felicitas, from felix, felic- ‘happy’.

WithDevonSummerRiding2007sm

Tags: animals, compassion, death, eternity, existence, family, heaven, horses, life, love, materialism, parenting, soul, spirit, valhalla, writing

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

Sharing words

… happy to be in connection …  in consciousness many times, sending love … strength, in the same way faith is more real than what we sense (and the world calls real). This entire perceived world is a tale, we know this, and the process of every moment and day feels sometimes literally mindblowing, which I know is the cognitive dissonance on the synapse level. What else could that be? Because we do FEEL it, within, the vast effects of gnosis. I think this is why it becomes exactly what we need to do when overwhelmed, and let go into the Most High within us with our breath and thought-lessness… The more detox is done, the more fasting, deparasitizing and heavy metal/fungus/yeast/nanotech is remediated, the easier it is to be in flow with the dimensional shifts …  heart language energy… enjoy [that, and] within our DNA we have that third strand of serpent seed, which is why the LIGHT of CHRIST frees us. And in the mystery teachings, understanding the way-past-physics-binary-signal-light-code-cymatics-beyond quantification reality of WHAT IT (THE WORD AND LIGHT) IS doesn’t negate or disprove the TRUE history of the world … decoded so far … … a sign of heart communication… … hesitance to use this medium… supernatural events have happened with my computer – it was an apple …  [Gott] rid of it… … Having read William Gibson’s novels when they came out in real time, and most science fact (they say it’s called fiction lol) from my early teen years … leaning toward … off grid intellectually… stand against the AI and transhumanism… life existential … Paul said “For I count every loss as a victory for Christ.”  … Kolbrin Bible … HINDS FEET ON HIGH PLACES … FOXE’S BOOK OF MARTYRS…
… thank you … heart … gnow we … are … warriors … the LOVE we are all BEING is TILTING THIS INVERTED FALLEN MECHANISM SEQUENCE WE EXPERIENCE NOW and the shift is happening and we are all shining so brightly in colors of praise for the ALMIGHTY FATHER.
… OT … ALL … is reference to the days we are in and are coming, and the Destroyer, and the alien deception waiting to play out … the supposed believers IRL are in absolute disagreement / conversation stops @ subject: serpent seed. In 3D face-to-face conversations I never ever get to the points Aug makes, or anyone else from the bases… which … used to be like serial dreams…
memories …
~~~~  on this level of insight shared [darkness is] repel[led] …

SAGE ADVICE: EMBRACE A LOW CREDIT SCORE

We make a difference, every one of us.

It’s a long story, lol, but our DNA carries the information we need to return to our spiritual state, and our love carries others, our vibrations. This is why they force GMOs upon us, to dilute and break our genetic code as spiritual beings, and hybridize us with their own (reptilian in nature, or… worse…) I will be writing about that.

And a factoid reminder regarding “Natural Flavor” in food (if labelled, even). Don’t eat it. All but 7 of the tech giant Synomyx’s 77 patents refer to the use of HEK 293 (human embryonic kidney) cells, which researchers have used for decades as biological workhorses. (Yet everyone believes SNOPES for “fact checking”. Soros, anyone?)

I want to share something beautiful and inspiring. I got a call from a young mother on her way back from her 3 month old son’s first postnatal visit. She nurses him and stood her ground on NO VACCS. I met him at <4 weeks old, and he is PERFECT, alert – you can sense that ~someone is home in there~ . Well, the doctor (she put off earlier “scheduled” pediatrician visits knowing it was unneccesary/invasive. SHE IS 23, the mom) pushed hard but when she stood firm she was asked to sign a waiver. She refused, heeding the advice DO THIS WHEN YOU REFUSE A VACCINE – sign NOTHING. But she read it… And called me when she left the office to tell me that it would have incriminated her for allowing her son to spread the diseases she refused to vaccinate for to other children.

THEY ARE BLATANT IN THEIR SHUNTING OF DEPOPULATION RESPONSIBILITY, PLACING BLAME FOR THEIR OWN COMPLICIT DEATH-SPREADING ONTO THE INNOCENTS WHO REFUSE TO TAKE PART IN IT, BUT SIGN THE WAIVER.

WHEN YOU REFUSE A VACCINE, SIGN N O T H I N G.

I just turned down a “good” part-time job because they demanded a TB tine test. I could refuse the HepC vacc but not the tine… so, no job for me. I don’t trust them a bit; they’re not puncturing my skin with anything.

See what they are doing?

They are corralling the herd into death chutes. Not only physically, but more chilling, soul traps. The GMOs and heavy metals divorce you from who you were created to be (unless, of course, you’re a demon… good luck with that [sic]).

NOW IS THE TIME TO EMBRACE THE GRACE AND TRUE NOBILITY OF A LOW CREDIT SCORE.

The social credit system has been in place a long, long time. We just see it now.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMILY MY DAUGHTER

It is with a heavy heart I live today. Yet simultaneously I live in JOY.

Today my daughter Emily (who my son named my granddaughter – his daughter, after my daughter his older and only sister – after) has turned 39. This day she was born.

I mailed her a gift package to the address I knew four years ago. I hope it gets to her.

A carved Pink Himalayan Salt votive candle holder, a pair of hand-sewn curtains in a block-print vintage Victorian blown rose fabric, and an eight-page letter.

I cannot describe the profundity inherent in the challenge of being made dead by my own family. I am existentially erased. In their minds.

Me, I’ve actually let go.

Detox and removing vampiric layers will do that for a person!

All things possible with the Most High God, in this illusion of a world!

I work very hard to center within the seat of my soul to feel God’s Goodness within myself. To not succomb to the evil that so derailed my life from birth. I have come to the conclusion that I have very little genetic serpent seed in my genes. That my task as an Elect in this incarnated flesh skin is to return to the first estate. I knew my VMAT2 was high… but at this point, realizing and seeing all I do, seeing others begin to discover what I have always known within, I see why I was targeted so early – from birth – and “never amounted to anything”, no matter how manythings I tried. Something always happened, and it was usually a death, or illness, or emergency. That’s how Satan works.

The Ice Flow of my life now
Written in a #nanowrimo slam last month

 

So whatever brings your day to you Emily, know that you are loved beyond measure.

Not only by me. I just birthed you (yes, my DNA call your name).

By GOD and Yehushua the Messiah Christ.

I know that the DNA in you will win. GOOD PREVAILS: all things in Christ.

I love you, my dear daughter! Happy Birthday!

PASSING WISDOM, #NATIONALPOETRYDAY2018

And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child: and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be saved. Matthew 10:21-22

As we get older we want to pass
our wisdom to our children
A natural progression
now thwarted
Prohibited, made abhorrent by the powers that be
who dictate and distribute
perception of reality

Mine who I made in me
with fierce desire for their becoming
who became as they grew older
influenced by my own obstructions and
the datasets of others
These two human beings now
treat me like the plague

(To them I’m dead)

I’d say the system succeeded
in separating me from those I love
Shed tears exceed by thousands times days
since I have heard their voice
(silence) (wait)
If I give up hoping
I as I thought I was cease to exist

My condition as a truthsayer and Morgellons-hijacked body
(canary in a coal mine complicated with medically denied Lyme disease)
became the final door they closed
after years of loving strained by contradiction
as the programming their minds absorbed came between us
and the success they began to reap in worldly ways
reinforced the covert message to reject their mother

(emails, calls classified as spam, and blocked, all mail and contact ignored)

In my cells I feel these humans
and in my thoughts preserve them, heart: protect them
my first thought in the morning thanks the Almighty Father for another chance to love them
to redeem myself another day from the height they saw me fall
I cannot blame them for my descent
Nor for shutting the door between us
Neither am I capable of accepting this decree and moving on

That said I also transmute this gash
to restoration of my frame
The landscape of the world I inhabit (and create)
made better for their sakes (love in action)

And every day I live in love
for my children
for my grandchildren
for everyone who rejects and shuns me
Love Is All
Only love will save us
So I live in love alone
Eating – and *not eating* – to ascend

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
2 Timothy 1:7

#NATIONALPOETRYDAY2018

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