Mostly we don't want to harm each other. I have been thinking about that lately. Mostly. But then fear or anger or one disguised as the other creeps in. It is so convincing, compelling me to yell when I promised and apologized only minutes ago. Broken promises everywhere. The ripple effects of a life ruled by fear. Violence. The ways we cascade ourselves and our neuroses onto others.
I've been thinking a lot lately about what Jude calls "the unbearable softness" of life, of God, of love. It is unbearable to sit with the tender, broken heart of this world, of each one of us and our pain. I want to scream for the children dying all over the world. The starving, traumatized people everywhere and all the other people trying to make peace with the injustice. Trying to make it over. To rationalize away human suffering and broken hearts.
What would happen if instead we just sat with the truth, the pain, the raw tender tears of a child, a mother, a brother lost and alone and hungry after bombs or bulldozers or the bottle stole their most precious person, their home, broke their heart. How can I make friends with the unbearable softness within me? Turn towards it when I am compelled to look away. Stay with it when it feels too raw, too soft. Look it in the eyes, feel my hand on my chest, open my heart, stay with it--stay, just for 3 more seconds, then 5, then 10.
Here I am, aching to be soft. Longing for it. Convinced it is the only true thing. And still, also terrified. What I really want to say is I am here. I will not stop the search for that soft place where only love is true. I will give voice to love. Everything else is only a wound aching to be healed.
Relief. Breathe in and out. Exhale. The truth is like that. Relief. Love is also like that. Deep and true. A relaxing back into its deep embrace.