Snowball Battles Haībun

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Words held back are like snowballs unthrown. Turned around, patted, added to, growing in size and coldness until, blam! Released, they slam into the target.

pile of snowballs waits
giggling from behind the fort
duck, one is coming

After getting nailed by a young son, my laughter starts while I form my own snowball and launch a counterattack. Usually my son is running for cover, dodging and weaving.

both combatants
howling with laughter
ducking and throwing

In snowball fights, people have their weak points, and the battle is over once someone gets snow in their eyes or down their neck. Or someone breaks a window. Yes, tempers can flare, even in a snowball fight, and things can get out of hand. Any kind of battle can wound.

When people start flinging words, sometimes a stray comment lodges in the memory, suppurating and infecting until the thorn is drawn.

My dad always liked to tease. One of his favorite ways to deal with complaints was to make a fist, thumb up, then circle his thumb on the closed index finger. “Do you know what this is?” he would ask. The first time, I said “No.”

“It’s the tiniest record player in the world, playing: My Heart Bleeds for You.” And then he would laugh. I still smile at the memory. He had an infectious laugh. For a long time, though, the memory of that tiny record player and my father’s laugh did sting. Looking back, I realize he was teaching me to solve my own problems. I learned not to bring him my problems. By and large, that was good training for life.

I have learned to draw the thorns from my memory. Raising my own kids has helped me understand my parents. Leaving in the thorns is like leaving the ice down your neck after a snowball fight. Uncomfortable in the extreme.

pulling out old thorns
bitter thoughts wedged in deeply
best with compassion

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by the Friday Haībun prompt by Ese and Ye Pirate. This week, they used two of my photographs as prompts. I chose the one above, entitled: The Arsenal.

31 thoughts on “Snowball Battles Haībun

  1. Pingback: Ligo Haibun Challenge – Word Prompt | From Hamish 'Managua' Gunn's Forest
  2. Pingback: Ligo Haibun 31/1/14 – photo prompt – Let it Snow | Sarah Ann Hall
  3. I like the idea of a pile of unnthrown words…not like in that I think it’s a good idea to pile em up…just works well as an image to conjur up thoughts. Like exposing any such pile to a little warmth, so any bitterness stored can justmelt away. Could be a very interesting point to begin a guided meditation from.

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    • Yes, goes along with revenge being a dish best served cold. Apply some warmth and love, and bitterness can melt away. Use compassion with yourself and the people who hurt you, and you find yourself with less hurts. It works for me. It’s so much better than embracing the pain and holding it close.

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  4. What a beautiful opening line – this is really your genre. And doesn’t this just flow, with your haiku like little piles of words, of snowballs, about to be thrown across the page in your prose. This haibun is just so relevant to us all. I defy any reader to say it did not emotionally affect them. It just put some many thoughts, memories and ideas in my head. I can feel the sincerity in your writing, and learn the lessons you draw with you. Your haibun run deep but are always light and easy to read. A delightful mix. Thanks again! Managua

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  5. words are weapons of peace
    or massive destruction…
    each one a lesson to be learned,
    yours are always soft spoken within the energy of heart…
    a wonderful post of wisdom again…
    I am envious of the snowballs, yesterday 81F today 79F
    last Monday 14F with ice….I just wanted snowflakes LOLs..
    Wonderful as always to think about Brenda…
    Thank you for sharing…
    Take Care…You Matter…
    )0(
    maryrose

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    • Maryrose, We have more cold than snow right now. Not enough to make a decent snowman! We were in a drought last fall, and I wonder if we are going to be in one in spring, too. 81 sounds pretty good to me right now. 🙂 Hugs, Brenda

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