Please Understand

We live in a fast- moving world.  We eat on the go, text, rush everywhere. People often get angry or frustrated with people who slow us down for whatever reason.  Today, I met a true asshole.

I went to WalMart today to buy a couple of things I needed.  I hate WalMart and places like it.  The high ceilings amplify sound, there are florescent lights, random beeping back up alerts, screaming children, and other sensory input.  Still, sometimes I have to go there.

The asshole of the year stood behind me in the check out line.  I only had 5 things to purchase and chose the express lane.  I have problems with focus and attention in busy places, such as stores.  Multitasking is hard for me in the best settings.  It becomes nearly impossible in stores.  The cashier talks, you have to process and respond- often when trying to pay for the purchases.  Needless to say, I need extra processing time and move slowly in lines.  Of course, today I had to forget my PIN and needed to enter it more than once.

I heard the guy behind me making comments.  At first, they were mild things like “I don’t have all day” and “hurry up.”  I didn’t get angry.  This could apply to the cashier as well.  Then he said, “Retards like you shouldn’t use this lane if you’re so slow.”  That went over well.  I have quite the four letter vocabulary when angry.  That comment was all it took.  My first response was actually fairly mild, “Shut the F up.” Now, I was really distracted and frustrated.

Oh-hell-No

I wore an Army backpack to have room to carry home purchases.  My speech and language processing also slow when I’m stressed or overstimulated.  He made a comment about me being too stupid to have served in the military. I am proud of my military service and miss it.   Here we go.  Unfortunately, he managed to pile enough insults on me that I started to cry out of sheer anger and frustration.  He “won” the argument.

judge judy

The manager stepped in to stop the situation.  The guy was told to leave and escorted by security outside the store.  I was so upset that I wasn’t able to understand the pay process anymore.  The manager slowly walked me through it.

This happened two hours ago.  I am shaking as I write this and trying to hold back tears.  I really want to hurt that guy.

Please, if you see someone struggling in line or anywhere in public, be patient and understand: not all disabilities are visible.  Treat the person with respect.  Or at least keep your mouth shut.

I came home to them:

Kaliyah love

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Things will be better.  Cuddle time with Brigid and play time with the ferrets (Bobby and Kaliyah) is therapy enough.

A Unicorn Tale- part Two

This is part two of the Unicorn Tale.  If you haven’t read part one, click here:  https://ferretrunner.wordpress.com/2012/04/03/a-unicorn-tale-part-one/

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The days passed.  Shylock galloped and walked by turns.  He followed game trails but saw no signs of human habitation.  On the fourth day of his journey, he was far from the Glen and lands of his people.  He followed a trail next to a river.  The spring rapids powerfully surged.  He stopped to drink in a small clearing.  The river had come to a small inlet and the water was cold, fresh, and pure.   His acute hearing detected high pitched crying.  It sounded like a young animal was in trouble.

Shylock carefully followed the sound.  Under a large pine tree was a baby squirrel.  Her eyes were barely open.  She evidently fell from her nest.  Shylock lowered his head, “Bright Blessings, young one.”  The squirrel’s eyes widened and her whimpering stopped.  She shrank back from the large creature looming over her.  Having never seen a unicorn, she was convinced that he was going to eat her.   “My name is Shylock.  I am a Unicorn Warrior.  You seem, young maiden, to be in trouble.  May I help?”  The baby’s eyes got larger and she looked at him with an expression of shock.   Shylock gently blew air through his nostrils and looked up.  “You fell, right?  I don’t see your nest.  I will stay with you until your mother returns to keep you safe.”  The squirrel gently touched her nose to Shylock’s and sniffed.

“You stay wif me?” she lisped.  “Itz scawy.”  Shylock nodded.  He folded his legs to lay next to the baby.  “Can you climb onto my back?  That way, you have a soft place to rest.”  The baby clumsily climbed over his legs and onto his side.   “Good enough,” he sighed.  Shylock spoke softly to Gail, learning of her siblings still in the nest, her mother’s hunt for food, and the storm that caused her to fall.  Gail’s eyes closed and she drifted off into a pleasant sleep.  Shylock lay in the warm spring sun, watching the pattern of shadow and sun caused for the trees gently swaying in the breeze.  He felt a deep, peaceful contentment.  Perhaps helping Gail did not require a great battle but he still aided a young innocent.

Picture courtesy of Carla Menjivar

As he mused, he heard frantic chattering as the mother squirrel arrived home and noted her missing offspring.  “Little Mother,” he called, “Your daughter is safe with me.”  A gray head poked out a bole in the tree.  The mother squirrel assessed the unicorn, noting her sleeping daughter.  She scampered head first down the trunk, leaping the last few feet unto the unicorn’s back.  The sounds of happy reunion echoed through the trees.  The little squirrel excitedly chattered about her new friend and her adventure.  The mother squirrel gently groomed her face.  After several moments of mutual reassurance, the mother grabbed up her young in her mouth and climbed back home.  “Bye, Shylock” the little called, “Mommy sez wait, she wanta talks to you.”

“Merry we part, little Gail.  It was nice to spend the afternoon with a special maiden.”  The squirrel giggled.

After several minutes, the mother squirrel reappeared.  She clung to the trunk at eye level to Shylock.  “Greetings, White Warrior.  I thank you for your service to me and my family.”

Shylock inclined his head, “It was my honor, Little Mother.”  The squirrel studied him for several moments, noting his horn with a tilted head.  Shylock ducked his head in shame.  Why must his horn always interfere with his life?

“I am Gwennyff.  My child tells me your name is Shylock?”  He nodded.  “I cannot reward you enough for your care of my daughter.  If you hunger, I offer nuts for your refreshment.  There is a spring behind the rock with grass clumps.”  Shylock understood the squirrel Way.  She was offering hospitality.  She was concerned for a misbalance of the Wheel.  She must balance good for good.  When evil happened, squirrels balanced the evil by good acts or offerings.

Gwenyff.
Picture by Runner Jenny on Flickr

“It is not necessary, Little Mother, though I thank you for your offer.  I have the sweet green grass, the cold water, and the warm sun.  I am refreshed.  It is not needful to deplete the stores for your young.”  Shylock understood how hard squirrels worked to gather food for their families.  By declining, he was releasing her need to offer hospitality.  “I am glad I could be of service to your family,” he continued.

Gwennyff bowed her head in acknowledgement.  “It is not often we see a White Warrior here.  Is there danger coming?”  she asked in concern.

“No, Little Mother.  Not to my knowledge.  I am on my Quest.”

She sighed in relief.  “That is well.  It is ugly when evil comes.  War and hunger always follow.  I must return to my young.  I am Gwennyff.  You are Shylock.  We are Friends.  If you have need, tell the squirrels and we will provide aide.  Good journeys and may the Goddess smile upon you.”  So saying, she turned and scampered up the tree, disappearing into the leaves.

Shylock turned toward the river, thinking.  He knew that Gwennyff offered more than friendship.  The word she used translated closely to “family of not blood.”   He still wondered what she saw when she looked at him.   Was his horn shocking to her?  She treated him with respect.  However, Shylock’s experience was that his difference was shameful and ugly.  “She’s a squirrel,” he decided, “Perhaps to her, magic was less important than her daughter.”  He trotted off into the early evening.  He had some hours to travel before dark and rest.

A Unicorn Tale- Part One

This story of a young unicorn came to me as I ran on Saturday.  It took a few days to outline and get started.   I’m not sure when I’ll get hte next part of the story completed.  I created a new category for the story, called Unicorn Story.  I hope you enjoy it.

A Unicorn Tale

Long ago, unicorns roamed the land.  They lived in a peaceful Glen, magical and far from humans.  The Glen was filled with lush, green grass and shaded by tall oaks and willows. Wildflowers grew in the spring, a riot of yellow, purple, and white.  The Glen was truly a magical place.  The rainbow colors started there and arched the sky as a sign of the Goddess’ blessing.  The air sparkled golden in the sunlight.  All the seasons were special.  When winter caused the land to sleep under its blanket of snow, the unicorns celebrated with snowball fights and a winter carnival.    The snow provided nutrition.  It is little known that unicorns can feed on magic and the very seasons themselves.  Summer was for lazy swims in the shaded river and naps on the grass.  Fall, the unicorn young played in the leaves.  But, spring was the best time in the Glen.  Mother unicorns gave birth to their young.

One mild spring night, on the evening of the full Moon, a baby male unicorn was born.  His horn, like all newborns, was barely a stub on his forehead.   However, as his mother lovingly groomed him clean, she noted something different.  Instead of glowing yellow or white, the baby’s horn nub glowed pink.  “How beautiful… and odd” she commented to her mate.  Her mate looked concerned.  “Pink?!  I’ve never known a unicorn to have a pink horn.  I’d better talk to the Elders.”  His mate sighed in contentment as the baby started the nurse.

Unicorn Elders are wise, usually the oldest unicorns that learned wisdom through their long lives and had a heart to serve.  They are not perfect and all-knowing.  The Elders heard the concerns of Aerven.  They spoke amongst themselves for a time, then Taran the Warrior Leader, stated, “Aerven, we must see the youngster to judge.”  He led the Elders to his young son and wife.

Adreyn leapt to her feet and stood between the Elders and her baby.  “Peace, Adreyn.  We do not come to harm the babe.  We wish to See,” Awena of the Bards said gently.  Healer Caerwyn gently nuzzled the babe and carefully examined him.  “He is healthy, Adreyn.  I see nothing amiss in the child, except the pink horn.  It is not due to illness,” he said with a shrug.  Taran looked next, “He looks strong.  I see no kernel of evil in him.  Arianwin, Kynan, what say you, Priestess and Priest of the Goddess?”  The shamans eyes unfocussed as they studied the aura of the youngster.  “There is no evil,” they said.  Arianwin shook head silver mane. “I think there is a Destiny on him.  But, he is very young.  I cannot tell for true.”  First Warrior Trainer Aeron merely nodded acceptance of the child.  “He looks strange but he has the body of a young warrior, when he is ready to train.”   The Elders agreed.  The baby looked odd but did not seem to pose danger to the unicorns.

Seasons passed.  Shylock grew taller and stronger.  His coat shone white and his mane and tail grew silky silver strands.  He played in the meadow with his parents and learned to drink from the rainbows.  His only problem was the other unicorns.  The Elders accepted his presence but did nothing to curtail the whispers of the herd.

Unicorns were gentle warriors.  They fought evil wherever they encountered it, as they could not bear the presence of evil.  But, their children were like children everywhere.  They teased those who were not like them. “Pinky, pinky, you’re so stinky,” the children chanted. Only a few unicorn children played with him.  As time went by, those tentative friendships dissolved under the pressure of teasing.  Even the adult unicorns were uncomfortable around him and eased their children away.  Eventually, Shylock learned to enjoy solitude in the forest.  He learned the languages of the animals that lived there and often played with young rabbits and squirrels.  His pink horn did not bother them.

Every young unicorn is trained in combat and magic.  Some show special talent or gifts and were selected for additional training, perhaps as a Healer, Bard, or Representative of the Deities.  All unicorns go into the world of men for a time in order to gain experience in battling evil.  Shylock was no exception.  He reported to Aeron for training.  Aeron, for her part, was a tough warrior.  If she had a weakness, it was that she did not recognize emotions.  She trained her Warriors to be tough and hard. “Battle is not the time to be gentle,” she said, “War is horrible.  You must be tough to survive.”  She did nothing to stop the young unicorns from teasing Shylock.  She did not see their behavior as a problem.

Smack! Shylock shook his head.  Liam’s strike hurt and he was dazed.  Before Shylock could recover his balance, Liam struck again.  Shylock fell to the ground.  He yielded.  Liam looked sideways.  No adults were observing.  He knocked Shylock to the ground again and kicked dirt on him. “Pinky.  You’re no unicorn Warrior.”  Of course, Liam wasn’t a warrior yet.  He had missed an important lesson of the Warrior Code. “Fight only when necessary.  Respect your opponent.”  Liam snickered.  The gathered unicorn youth giggled.   Shylock became a strong fighter, as his father tutored him.  For all she was not emotional, Aeron was an excellent teacher.  She, also, practiced extra with the youth.  He was a talented student.  She felt he would make a great Warrior in time.

As Shylock grew, his horn started to dim.  Most unicorns’ horns glow brighter with magic as they age.  They become stronger in the inherit magic of the unicorn Way.  But, not Shylock.  His horn dimmed with the weight of shame he felt for his difference.  Instead of glowing, his horn was a dull pink and over time, faded to gray.  The Elders were concerned.  How could a unicorn have no magic?  However, he was not evil and was not a threat, so his presence was tolerated.  Shylock did not learn the magic of the unicorn.  Often, Shylock ran off into the forest to cry. “I hate my horn.  I’m so ugly and stupid.  I hate the Glen!”  Shylock wished he did not have to return.

His mother, Adreyn, tried to comfort the young colt.  “Shylock, you are beautiful and strong.  Your horn is different.  But, it is part of you.”  Aerven also supported his young son.  “You did well in combat practice today.  Aeron said you defeated Liam and Olson in battle practice.  Well done.”

When Shylock turned 5 years, Adreyn and Aerven took their son to the shamans.  He was now a young Warrior.  His Quest to the world of man was soon.  They hoped the Representatives could help ignite his magic.  Kynan worked with Shylock for 40 days.  Shylock’s horn remained stubbornly gray-pink.  Yet, he learned much about the Way of the God and the stars above.  Shylock enjoyed his lessons.

Next, Arianwyn took Shylock to the Goddess’ Cave.  Perhaps a blessing ritual would help the young colt.      Arianwyn lit a small fire and put herbs in it.  The fragrant scent drifted toward the sky as she chanted.  The young unicorn stood quietly, meditating, as he was told.  Arianwyn inhaled the smoke and blew the incense over Shylock.  She chanted more.  Arianwyn led Shylock into the Sacred Spring, nurtured by the Womb of the Goddess.  She bathed him and ducked his head under the water.  After the ritual concluded, she sighed.  Shylock’s horn still did not glow.  Arianwyn shook her head but smiled at the youngster.  “Shylock you are an enigma.  You have a Destiny, yet you cannot touch magic.  It is curious.”  Shylock ducked his head to hide his tears.  He hoped the ritual would fix his horn to glow bright white or yellow.  It seemed the Goddess did not want to heal him.  Arianwyn studied the silent youth for a time, then gently said, “You must be hungry.  Let’s go back to your mother and your meal.”

 Kynan spoke to his parents.  “Aerven, your son is strong in spirit.  But, he has a shadow about him.  It is not evil but it speaks of trouble.  Perhaps it is part of his Destiny.”  He blew air from his nostrils in frustration.  “We cannot See his Destiny.  We are not sure where he will be Called or how.”   Arianwyn nodded.  “He is truly different.  I sense something of the Goddess about him.  But, he seems- disconnected.  He will either be a great Warrior or bring trouble upon us.  Perhaps both.”

“How can he fulfill a Destiny without magic,” Adreyn asked, worry in her eyes.

“That we do not know.  Perhaps the Destiny does not involve magic but the skills of a Warrior only.”

“All of us, even the best Warrior, still have magic,” Aerven stated.  “My son is a freak.  Perhaps he will grow to be a strong warrior but I do not see how he can manage a Destiny or anything else important.”

Adreyn exploded in anger.  Soon, all four adults, even the Priest and Priestess, were involved in a long, loud argument about Shylock.  They did not notice a young unicorn return after finishing his snack.  Shylock’s eyes filled with crystalline tears and he slunk away, his tail dragging behind him.  Shylock decided, then and there, it was time for his Quest.  His Quest was due to start this summer, anyway.  He would leave for the man’s world at first light.

The morning dew glistened on the spring grass.  Shylock, now an adolescent warrior, Rank 1, licked the grass  and enjoyed the taste of dew.  Today he would leave the Glen, never to return.  Shylock understood his friends in the forest accepted him, as the unicorns did not.  Perhaps his place was in the world of man, not in the Glen.  He walked slowly toward the Boundary.  Kynan and Arianwyn suddenly stood next to him.  “You cannot leave without the blessing of the Goddess and God,” they said.  Shylock picked up his head and looked into their eyes. “I will leave today.  The Glen has nothing for me. The world of man may be where I meet my Destiny.”  The shamans nodded.  Kynan drew a mark on Shylock’s side.  Arianwyn marked his horn and forehead.  “Blessings of the Goddess of All and Her Consort be on you.  May you travel in safety and return as an adult.”  They bowed their heads and nodded.  Shylock bowed and turned his face to the Barrier.  He galloped through the glorious morning.