I’m an idealist and a realist at the same time. It’s a dance that sometimes resembles a battle, but always finds a way to merge as a unique way of looking at things.
I look for ways to lift my thoughts higher than my understanding, but in the end I need to know the details. I need to be elevated and grounded at the same time.
I love stories that pull at the heart. Stories that tell of hope and meaning and purpose and love. Something that’s true beyond what we normally see. Something that could be real all the time and not just in a story. Something that would compel us to be better people if we felt it deeply and internalized it.
It’s easy to assume we’re all separate. Living life in our own little spheres. That what we do has no affect on anyone else. I look around and see how things are and wonder if it’s possible to live otherwise. Can we show the same compassion for each other as we wish for ourselves? Is there enough selflessness in our hearts to care without the thought of cost or reward? To love each other without expectation or motive? To give freely of ourselves?
When someone crosses my path and we exchange a few words of kindness I think perhaps there is hope after all. Perhaps there’s just enough humanity left in each of us to actually make the world a better place. And maybe that’s how it’s suppose to work. You and me, and then you and someone else, and then me and another person until we all treat each other with genuine respect and kindness and, yes, maybe even a little compassion as well.