“We all know we’re going to die; what’s important is the kind of men and women we are in the face of this.”
~Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird
We humans seem to have a predilection to hurt one another. Pick up a history book. Turn on a cable news show. Peruse the news feed. Look at the pain inflicted, the chaos caused, the fires lit. We judge, discriminate, enslave, marginalize, lynch, cat-call, intern, bully, torture, kill. We wreak interminable harm that seeps into our collective souls. Bruises never heal. Nightmares haunt. Grief sits an endless shiva.
Do we continue to hurt each other because of the hurt? Have we not been given the tools, the wisdom, the ability to stop the cycles of pain? If misery is all we know, will we continue to pass it on, thinking it is the only way?
Many of us do not want to admit we have hurt others, especially those we claim to love. We throw around hateful words, seeing what will stick, not comprehending the deep suffering we cause. We use guilt as a weapon. We hold our love hostage, negotiating unfathomable terms. We cling to ancient grudges, not wanting to let go of the safety net of anger.
Where do we find wonder in the depths of so much pain? How do we let go without ignoring the agony of others? What is the path to compassion, empathy, forgiveness?
I believe most of the answers to these complex questions are accomplished with small gestures. Give to a favorite charity. Smile at a stranger. Hold a door open for someone. Let go of your fears, your prejudices, your preconceived impressions. Open your mind and invite in new ideas, even if they go against everything you have been taught. Question injustice. Step away from drama, from toxicity, from people who do not serve your joy. Work on healing your damaged heart. Sit with the hurt caused by others, and then forgive them. Acknowledge the pain you have inflicted, and then forgive yourself.
We are only here for a short time. None of us will get out of here alive. Know we are both shadow and light, yet choose to walk with grace. Free yourself from the pain that has permeated your heart, because “one day I’ll be gone; or one day you’ll be gone.”
Maybe time running out is a gift
I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift
And give you every second I can find
And hope it isn't me who's left behind
It's knowing that this can't go on forever
Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone
Maybe we'll get forty years together
But one day I'll be gone
Or one day you'll be gone
“If We Were Vampires” Songwriter: Michael Jason Isbell
Post a Comment