The word of the day for December 15, 2012: STIR
The events of the past week have stirred emotions around the globe. There’s been enough stirring. It’s time to do something. I’m not saying take away the guns—that’s unconstitutional. That being said, I would offer that US citizens should be able to own guns, but only guns and weapons available at the time the Constitution was unanimously signed in 1790 (or earlier). If someone can smuggle a musket past airport security, waltz into an elementary school with a a howitzer cannon, or Catherine-Wheel unsuspecting theatergoers—the more power to them.
Stirring isn’t always heartbreaking and depressing.
The feeling is stirring in my heart. A longing to do something more has arisen. It is overwhelming my soul, so hard to control. Things are stirring. Good things.
Its time to stir things up. Stop the stagnation and really get things moving. If you don’t the Universe will do it for you! So hang on and get ready to see what exciting things surface after you make that decision to stir things up in your life!
One can stir something delicious.
I stir the soup in slow, rhythmic motions, being careful not to let it spill over the sides. The bits of potatoes and chicken tumble about like surfers on a wave. The scent of the broth wafts into my nostrils as I lick my wet lips. This is divine.
The elements stir.
The wind stirred, and the town began to wake. What a beautiful day, said a child with her matches close at hand, and the ashes of the neighbor’s house swished at her little feet.
As I looked out the window, I couldn’t help but stir at the discomfort within myself. A mid-December day, raining like it’s May.
Stirring, stirring, beneath the heavy blanket of snow, beneath the cloudless sky, beneath the cold, unfeeling heavens, I am stirring. There is rage in my heart burning off the fear and insecurity and my wings unfurl, shaking ice from their tips, and I am reborn in frozen fire.
We stir up memories.
The last time I saw my mother—she died while I was abroad—she stood with her back to me mixing apples and brown sugar and flour in a bowl in preparation for a pie she’d intended to make.
One can be stirred back to life.
I took a deep breath and fell underneath the water line. Sounds were muffled; edges blurred. With seconds left until I had to swim up, I thanked the stirring waters for the temporary relief from my life. Below the waves, I could imagine nothing was wrong. My lungs screamed, and I heard my mouth gasping for air. There I was. My bathtub looked the same as always.
Not a creature was stirring. not even a mouse. Which had eaten a small piece of radioactive cheese and turned into a flesh-eating demon mouse. He used his flesh-eating powers to infiltrate the homes of every cheese owner in the city where he ate them, and their cheese, whole. He became so fat that when he returned back to his family in his mouse hole, he burst. spraying radiation all over his mouse babies. Marking the end of the world as we know it.
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