There’s something about real kindness toward another person that fixes all of my own unsettledness. All the stopped up angst and discontent (moored like clouds above our house) is, if not buried in the deep bosom of the ocean, dunked, baptismally, in the fresh and sudden lake of joy:
I feel bad: harrumph.
You feel bad: but you’re wonderful, and everything’s going in the right direction and is going to feel good before you know it!
When you stand in you’re wonderful and you deserve a beautiful life, it turns out that you’re also talking to yourself– and yourself is always listening, always ready to convert to happiness like that!
I’ve said before I think that everyone is a mirror, all glimpses of ourselves, walking and talking with another name, another form. What would we do without people to love, like, admire, even fear? How would we know ourselves in a vacuum? For the record, I think we would, still, but this mix of melodies, this echoing back and out again of dreams and hopes and greifs is perhaps the prettiest thing I’ve ever known.
Let’s keep playing catch like this, back and forth, seeing how far, how close we get.
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