From an occasional lifelong friend…
“He spoke of humility, as though it were a thing owed. As though it were related to gratitude and reverence. A subtle rebuke for poor behavior. I got back to him on that after I returned from a long period of thought. I wish I could impress upon you, I said, the crippling shame of having participated in an act of brutality. A ridiculously fleeting moment of self imposed rage and false bravado. Surreal and barely audible beneath the terrible screams of the partner within. The boy. The man. The ghost. This voice that once, in innocence, was always the boldest and the loudest, now silenced by this grotesque denial. And, if you will, imagine trying to reconnect with that person that you know is still there, like God on a never ending judgement day. All the while, fantasizing how wonderful it would be to explore the height and the depth of love and compassion...only to realize, always, how utterly selfish and contemptible it is, this desire to exist among real human beings. If we could travel there for a day, I said with a measure of pity, I would gladly spend all I have for two tickets. Then, you and I could discuss humility. Why two, he asked. Oh, you don’t want to go there alone, I replied. Trust me on that.”
Take heart my friend. I have great news. Webster was wrong. Love is a verb. An act. Void of reflection. Neither needing nor seeking it’s own reward. You don’t have to stand in it’s light. It comes from inside and it’s bounty is limitless. Rise up brother...and love! And in time, you’ll hear an old voice from the past and soon discover that you, too, are among the living.
People. Love….always. Be grateful for who you are and can be. Be thankful for those working to ensure that neither you, nor your children will ever reside in such a place.
Over
Out