I’ve often wondered how those that see beauty fail to speak the language of love. Not that they should be skipping around in their rose-tinted glasses taking reality detours to avoid the strains and pains of living. No, not at all.
I’m focused on those able to rant about the feel of silk, the calmness of the night air, the intense colors of roses in the museum garden, and all the warmth of the waking sun. These folks speak negativity when referencing those keeping the grounds manicured and eye-pleasing. They lash out about the rain and the ticket they got for tailgating because they were really only riding “close” and if there weren’t so many children in the other car maybe they would’ve driven faster. They speak and drive reckless because children play on side streets after the monologue about video games turning them into zombies. They despise our educators and administrations but aren’t part of the process. They critique and criticize despite the facts then whip out their travel size white chalk because the truth is an attack on their person.
If but for a moment, let’s recognize that other person has at one time probably been us or a reflection of a love now lost. Think of all those having to experience our unfavorable shenanigans and all those we pulled in directly and indirectly to see us get to the other side of ignorance. Now apply that thought to them. Give them what was gifted so they to can blossom, too.
– In All Things I Leave You Love