What it means…
I am an advocate. I believe it was who I was from the moment of the spark in my mothers womb. I do not give my credence to a genetic disposition for this position. Rather it is the product of the touch of the spiritual and a sense of the sentience of all life that may only be described in fables.
It is my belief that all are created thus. Perhaps through circumstances, or a balance that insures the definition between the day and night, we advocate for different designs and give ourselves over to the inborn desire willingly or unconsciously. The flame within us producing a never ending matrix of consequences.
The price for our advocacy defines our lives. The simple joy of retrieving an imperiled creature. offset by the wounded heart and body drifting away in our hands. The weary battle to contain the damage wrought by those who advocate designs destructive to the compulsions of our own.
To be at peace with my advocacy is to acknowledge and know myself. To question it or try to turn my course I become entangled in confusion that inveigles my spiritual and physical well being. Periods of existence in this weary state have occurred with some frequency in my life and have been the most non-productive and depressing of times. Questioning my direction can be a daily event, if only for a brief second or a weary moment. The spiritual drain of this is immediate and leaves its taint lingering, until I am forced to expel it to be in the moment and at peace.
The acceptance of these things has put to rest the constant background noise of trying to figure out what motivates those who perform deeds of cruelty and abuse. It leaves only the direction of healing and protecting the victimized . As it encompasses and encounters those with the same direction of heart, the song becomes more melodious and full.