It is easy to forget or ignore the blessings that we have been given in this life. My daily life is a constant reminder to pay attention to those blessings and not to give in to the negativity around me. I wish I could say that I was always as grateful for and aware of these blessings as I know I should be, but this would not be honest. I am privileged to know so many warm, encouraging and positive women and men. They are kind and gracious people and they are my heroes. I look up to them because they inspire me with their kindness and their positive and supportive approach to life.
Society doles out daily brutal lessons in how to survive— rude and aggressive behavior, cold sterile ‘effective’ workplaces, tough crowds, overcrowded public transportation, traffic jams, poor customer service—the list is endless. There are so many provocations that it is often just a relief to come home and close the door behind me and shut out the world. Oftentimes at work I find myself thinking about and longing to come home because I know that there I will find the balance and harmony I crave. I crave them more and more as I get older (and presumably wiser?), and it is almost painful to experience a daily life without them. It has become extremely important to me that a harmonious way of living pervades all aspects of my life. I do not want to be surrounded anymore by any influences that seek to destroy that harmony and inner balance. I don’t really know why harmony has become so important to me suddenly. I just know that it has. It feels like a calling to a new way of life, that’s how strong the feeling is. I think I have finally understood that it is possible to lose yourself and your soul to the devils of negative and destructive thinking, and it is a pretty daunting thought to consider that it can actually happen. All I need to do is look around me—at people I thought I knew that have changed into people I no longer know at all because they have traded their values and ethics for power and prestige. It surprises me how easily it happens. I used to think this was a construction that was useful in fiction—the writer who creates the ‘good’ character and the ‘bad’ character who sells his or her soul for a few silver coins, like Judas did when he betrayed Christ. Some people are good at self-betrayal and at selling themselves to the highest bidder. They are not my heroes.
I am witness to how the daily brutal lessons damage people, destroy trust, destroy relationships, destroy workplaces and kill enthusiasm and positivity. All the more reason to be thankful for the true heroes in our midst—those who come with a kind and encouraging word, who are supportive, who listen, who build up (not tear down), who create harmony and balance, who are gracious in spite of the rudeness around them, who do not believe in an ‘eye for an eye’, who are not vengeful, and who do not hate. I know they struggle with the darkness that waits for admittance, for the door to open, so that it can come in and take up residence. They fight against it. They are my heroes.