Written some time ago the sentiments still ring true
We enter this world in pure innocence and naiveté initially believing out of ignorance that the world is a safe place, and eventually believing so out of experience, assuming we’re raised in a supportive and healthy environment. We try to make rules in order to make sense of things, and ultimately to protect ourselves from the things that can cause us harm. But we are in reality such fragile creatures, so vulnerable and susceptible to the awful things that can hurt us in our environment. Perhaps the only way to truly protect ourselves is to never leave the womb at all, because the moment we do we take our bodies and, more importantly, our souls in our hands. In reality the rules are more nonsense then we’d have ourselves believe and the world is far more chaotic for us to begin to exert any amount of control over it.
I cling to the hope that the story will have a different ending, hold tight to the idea that some things can be predicted, some rules can be made that have value and can protect us. And each time I am made a fool of all over again. How can a person go so quickly from being an angel to becoming a demon? How can a fellow human being go from being so sensitive and caring to being so utterly destructive and heartless? Desperate creatures do desperate things, and particularly when their survival, their very existence is at risk there is simply no limit to what they will do. We can never know what will set them off. We all have our Mr. Hydes lurking just beneath our surface ready to pounce in service of our souls protecting it from all impending dangers. Are we morally bound to sacrifice ourselves in order not to unleash the Mr. Hyde, in order NOT to cause such unbearable and unbridled harm to others? Is there a moral imperative that goes beyond our need for self-preservation? Are we to blame for not heeding to that moral call even if it does mean sacrificing a bit of ourselves? Can I rightfully judge others who have failed to heed this call out of their sheer need to protect themselves first and foremost? Do we not have an obligation to ourselves before we have an obligation to others? I am not sure I know the answers to these questions.
But there is simply something so cruel in the way that love can turn into hate. When unrestrained resentment and rage is unleashed without any regard whatsoever for the damage it may cause to the other. Is it merely a need for protection of self or a desire to exact revenge in payment for the harm that was perceived to be caused? Are we so empty inside that this is the only way we can fill ourselves? Are we filled with so much rage which has no other outlet that we must use the first outlet made available to us, such so that all the rage and anger from everything comes pouring into that very place? What was it that I did so wrong? Why did I deserve to be made to feel this way? It doesn’t seem to matter.
Our beautiful memories are so fleeting. We know that they go so quickly and we try so hard to hold onto them when we are in the grip of the moment itself. But at least after the fact we have the scent, a faint reminder of what was. But when someone systematically takes a bulldozer to all that was and digs up everything, twisting it into so many different grotesque forms that there can never again be any recollection of what was, is there anything more cruel? To not simply burn bridges but to attempt to annihilate the love that was once felt by replacing it entirely with unadulterated hatred and resentment. The more we love, the greater the potential we have to hate, for if we did not love we could not hate, as we would simply be indifferent.
And there is no protection, no safe haven from the cruelties that life and love have to offer. “Better to have loved and lost, then not to have loved at all”? But at what price? How many scars must we accumulate that will forever remind us of our past continually effecting our present? Can the heart eventually collapse from the sheer weight of it all? If we don’t open ourselves up, making ourselves vulnerable and subjecting ourselves to the many dangers that exist in the world, we can never be loved and stand to live a miserable and incredibly lonely existence. But the pain we sometimes endure can make anyone not want to EVER experience such a thing ever again, and the only way to do that is to close ourselves off completely. What a cruel situation it is to have to risk all that we are to become that which we so desperately long to become. But such is the way that God has designed the world. And whether indeed he has some sort of sick sense of humor is yet to be determined.
For now, I know that at least in retrospect things do become clearer. If we learn from our experiences then they are not for naught. If we use them to move on to the next place then our suffering will not be in vain. But the scars do remain, forever haunting us, reminding us of what we’ve been through, complicating the present with its constant comparisons with the past. It makes even shadows appear the most gruesome and threatening of creations. It makes it infinitely harder to enjoy the things that make us happy and to know what will indeed make us happy in the first place, having to constantly look over our shoulder for the potential Hyde lurking in the shadows. But such is life I guess and better to feel something then nothing at all. I only hope that it might end one day and the story can have a different conclusion. For now, I can only pray and have faith that this all happened for a reason.
I cling to the hope that the story will have a different ending, hold tight to the idea that some things can be predicted, some rules can be made that have value and can protect us. And each time I am made a fool of all over again. How can a person go so quickly from being an angel to becoming a demon? How can a fellow human being go from being so sensitive and caring to being so utterly destructive and heartless? Desperate creatures do desperate things, and particularly when their survival, their very existence is at risk there is simply no limit to what they will do. We can never know what will set them off. We all have our Mr. Hydes lurking just beneath our surface ready to pounce in service of our souls protecting it from all impending dangers. Are we morally bound to sacrifice ourselves in order not to unleash the Mr. Hyde, in order NOT to cause such unbearable and unbridled harm to others? Is there a moral imperative that goes beyond our need for self-preservation? Are we to blame for not heeding to that moral call even if it does mean sacrificing a bit of ourselves? Can I rightfully judge others who have failed to heed this call out of their sheer need to protect themselves first and foremost? Do we not have an obligation to ourselves before we have an obligation to others? I am not sure I know the answers to these questions.
But there is simply something so cruel in the way that love can turn into hate. When unrestrained resentment and rage is unleashed without any regard whatsoever for the damage it may cause to the other. Is it merely a need for protection of self or a desire to exact revenge in payment for the harm that was perceived to be caused? Are we so empty inside that this is the only way we can fill ourselves? Are we filled with so much rage which has no other outlet that we must use the first outlet made available to us, such so that all the rage and anger from everything comes pouring into that very place? What was it that I did so wrong? Why did I deserve to be made to feel this way? It doesn’t seem to matter.
Our beautiful memories are so fleeting. We know that they go so quickly and we try so hard to hold onto them when we are in the grip of the moment itself. But at least after the fact we have the scent, a faint reminder of what was. But when someone systematically takes a bulldozer to all that was and digs up everything, twisting it into so many different grotesque forms that there can never again be any recollection of what was, is there anything more cruel? To not simply burn bridges but to attempt to annihilate the love that was once felt by replacing it entirely with unadulterated hatred and resentment. The more we love, the greater the potential we have to hate, for if we did not love we could not hate, as we would simply be indifferent.
And there is no protection, no safe haven from the cruelties that life and love have to offer. “Better to have loved and lost, then not to have loved at all”? But at what price? How many scars must we accumulate that will forever remind us of our past continually effecting our present? Can the heart eventually collapse from the sheer weight of it all? If we don’t open ourselves up, making ourselves vulnerable and subjecting ourselves to the many dangers that exist in the world, we can never be loved and stand to live a miserable and incredibly lonely existence. But the pain we sometimes endure can make anyone not want to EVER experience such a thing ever again, and the only way to do that is to close ourselves off completely. What a cruel situation it is to have to risk all that we are to become that which we so desperately long to become. But such is the way that God has designed the world. And whether indeed he has some sort of sick sense of humor is yet to be determined.
For now, I know that at least in retrospect things do become clearer. If we learn from our experiences then they are not for naught. If we use them to move on to the next place then our suffering will not be in vain. But the scars do remain, forever haunting us, reminding us of what we’ve been through, complicating the present with its constant comparisons with the past. It makes even shadows appear the most gruesome and threatening of creations. It makes it infinitely harder to enjoy the things that make us happy and to know what will indeed make us happy in the first place, having to constantly look over our shoulder for the potential Hyde lurking in the shadows. But such is life I guess and better to feel something then nothing at all. I only hope that it might end one day and the story can have a different conclusion. For now, I can only pray and have faith that this all happened for a reason.
