Boxing Day

I’ve been sick since Monday morning…really sick like *I-can’t-fucking-get-out-of-bed-my-brain-throbs-at-11-snot-factory* sick…yet I have hope and an idea that the world—haa haa if not me physically—is getting better. It’s Christmas, or was, and its generally that time of year where people act like they should every other time of the year; with joy, sharing, compassion and understanding. A time where we put aside the pettiness of daily life and rise above even ourselves to reach out—if even just symbolically—to the rest of mankind with greetings of love, hope and …something else…optimism?

It’s a time when we open the long locked doors of ourselves and the light comes in…it animates and reanimates the things we know we have inside. Because those things are so deeply personal and important, we hide them away…away from prying eyes, away from the possibility of hurt and injury…away from the people who love us thinking that if they saw those details, those things about us that may not adhere to the highest ideals, they might not love us…they might not want to be with us.

And in my delirium I dream of coming days where those doors remain open past this week…and that they remain open all year so that the fear that is generated by those closed doors dissipates and simply drifts off. I dream that when the fear inside is gone, we can truly accept ourselves and by so doing accept others who may ostensibly be different from us…because we see inside their doors and realize that they are the same.

That their fear is naturally replaced by love…

…that our fear is as well.

Believe. Go. Do.


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