Last night
I read a blog detailing the life experiences of a person who has had more than
a fair share of hurtful, negative and downright tragic moments. As I pored over
a veritable laundry list of recounted experiences, I falsely assumed it was a
compilation of the experiences of several people. Horrified as I was, I was
even more horrified to learn these were the experiences of one person. I
wondered how many other people I knew who have had similar experiences. I
wondered why they were never talked about. And I wondered why though I had
heard of similar things in the news and in the wind over the years, they have
never affected me until I read that blog.
The last
question answered itself before I finished asking it…I know the person. I know the person’s hopes, dreams and goals. I know the person has risen above past circumstances and I know the person has done so for one reason and one reason only. This person has made a stand, this person has spoken up and this person has refused to allow anything get in the way of achieving peace.
I read and re-read the piece. At last count, I have read it over a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours and each time I read it, a million thoughts and twice as many emotions come pouring out of me. In the past few years three books have changed my way of thinking. One is affectionately known as “The Big Book.” Reading the Big Book and applying its principles in my life led me to another book; “The Traveler’s Gift” by a man named Andy Andrews. Through that book, I read a book written over eighty years ago by a man named Napoleon Hill, “Think and Grow Rich.”
As I read them, strange things would happen to me. Strange in that they felt natural, strange in that they hold the wisdom of universal truths, during a time in my life when truth was unnatural. I don’t know a whole lot about auras and universal energy, but if someone in the know was observing me as I read, they would surely have seen a plethora of colors surrounding me.
Still,
nothing I learned in those books that could have prepared me for what was to
come when I read that piece.
It made me
think of how I was verbally and emotionally abused for things my father did
before I was born. Then I thought of the kid I used to sit next to in third
grade, whose pencils I used to steal and drawings I would rip up, just to make
him cry.
It made me
think of hearing my mom come late at night from work, exhausted and crying and
of how I felt there was nothing I could do to soothe her. Then I remembered the
time in church camp when I played a double entendre-laden song from one of my
favorite hair-metal bands and “dedicated” it to a girl my age, and how she ran
away crying and embarrassed.
It made me
think of how I swore I would never grow up to be like my dad. Then it made me
think of how I would fly into a drunken rage whenever one of my sons did
something I perceived to be wrong.It made me think of the times I wished I was physically beaten instead of verbally ridiculed, even at a young age I knew that physical wounds heal much easier than emotional wounds. Then I remembered we weren’t supposed to talk about emotional wounds. And depending on my reaction, talking about it sometimes led to physical punishment.
It made me
think of how my grandfather dedicated his life to God, Country and family; he
truly was a man who lived for the common good. Then I remembered the time I
drew some very offensive symbols on the back door of a church, just because I
was into some bands who sang about some of the darker elements of human nature.
It made me
think of these things, and more. It made me think of some of the things that
were done to me and it made me think of some of the things I had done. But most
vital of all, it made me think.
I thought
about how when I hear Elton John on the radio, I don’t hear a gay musician. I
hear a human musician.
I thought
about that time I helped a young mother bag her many groceries at Food 4 Less.
I wasn’t helping a Somali immigrant, I was helping a mother.
I thought
about the homeless man several years ago, whom my coworkers and I gave the
remainder of our lunches, three beers, about seven dollars in change and umm,
half of an umm, “cigarette”. I wasn’t
helping some bum, I was helping a fellow human in need.
While the
earlier examples were from childhood, the three preceding examples were of
people who I had at one time looked down upon in my adult life. I used to look
down on many people. Still, there are aspects of my way of thinking which I
need to change.
I cannot
cure the world’s ills, but I can change the way I treat my fellow man.
I cannot
change the way some treat others, yet I can change the way I treat both.And if I can do it, anyone can.
We can
stand against hate, we can stand against ignorance, and we can stand against
fear. It’s no longer an issue of can, it’s an issue of MUST.
Every
aspect of life, no matter how encompassing, is rooted in individual choice. As
individuals, we rise up alone. As one, we can stand united.
As humans…