We are taught to believe that the world belongs to us, and also that somehow we belong to others. We are conditioned to compete; to strive for excellence; to prove ourselves. We are rarely taught to just listen to the river that rushes beneath the earth, but I assure you it is there. If you allow yourself to be still enough you will feel the blood in your veins and you will know that it means something. Revere that knowledge, for if you can stand next to a river and not be moved then you are elsewhere, and if you can feel the life flow through your veins and still believe you are either superior or inferior to another then you are not who you say you are.
That pulse is why I believe in the goodness of humanity. You can show me acts of kindness all day long and I will appreciate them, I promise you I will. But until I saw the wounds…until I acknowledged the rage within me, I never cared much about those pretty little bullets that need biting. Not until I bled and screamed and fought and cowered and scratched at the surface of all I couldn’t understand did I begin to recognize what they call grace.
It takes divine courage to realize and accept one’s self worth. (I am not there yet)
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