July 30th, 2014
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hands with flower

As a human community, we are constantly interacting with each other on different levels.  Working, playing, and collectively striving to figure out — often through some kind of spiritual activity — what it’s all about and the nature of our roles in this great journey of life.

Yet as much as we think we know someone, I find sometimes that we only know the portion of another person’s story that they want us to know. By focusing and  listening to what others have to say to us and perhaps also watching how they react to various things that happen to them, we may receive hints and get to know a little bit more  about what they are thinking or feeling even though we can’t really know for sure.

As in asking: “How are you?” “Are you annoyed?” “Did that hurt?” And the answers come back: “I’m fine.” “Not at all.” “Of course not!”

Suppose all those answers are false, not in the sense of lying, but said more as some sort self-protection, to cover-up a heartache, an annoyance, a hurt?

You want those feelings to be as short lived as possible.  For the other person and for yourself.

It makes me think about faith and courage and hope.

And about how much a person has to believe in one, two or all three of those essential feelings to get going every day and take notice of the delicious world around us even after the loss of a loved one or when a personal trauma changes the way we want to live our lives and the way we spent our precious time. We can’t always know the depth of those personal scars but we can admire and respect the strength and courage it takes for us and others to face a new day, a day that has never happened before, and try again to get it right.

To try again and find the will to heal.

Quietly. Over and over.

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