One of life’s great tragedies is our terror of truly being seen. Our suspicion that to know us is to hate us. That if people ever found out who we really are inside, we would never stop both burning and drowning in the white-hot lava rivers of their revulsion.
I just wish everyone could walk through this life with their hearts, minds, and souls so open that we couldn’t help but hear the cry of pain under every division and opposition. Remembering that we're all hurting in this together. And that our joy is equally right there in front of us, to claim.
I've honestly never met a person who I couldn't find something to love in, if I only looked hard enough. Even the worst of us contain surprises inside. Gift boxes of light, no matter how deeply concealed beneath the trauma, the lashing-out against enemies both real and imagined.
The worst of whom, most often, turning out to be ourselves.
Which is to say: I'm wishing you and me and all of us the openest minds and hearts and souls to which we are availed. Cuz we're gonna need 'em. And have never needed 'em more.
Beautiful