TheBanyanTree: Ramblings from the desk of an insomniac

[Christopher Bartlett]

This was to be posted at:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/bridgeweaver/
and will be once their server has come back to life.

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There is something faintly unjust in a world where many good people cannot 
see their goodness.  I've been feeling called upon to fill the role of 
mirror to people of late.  This is an odd, distorted reprise of a phase of 
life I left behind (or so I thought) many years ago.  At that time, the 
mirror was tempered with the arrogant presumption that I saw very clearly 
and if the people who sought my counsel didn't like the image, then they 
should bloody well take it up with themselves.

So here am I now, put in a place where I can see the good in people so much 
more clearly than I used to be able to do.  And the odd thing is that this 
increased vision throws their own self-images into sharp relief, and also 
stands in stark contrast to a maybe darkening world.  I think less and less 
of humanity's ability to organize itself into something noble and brave, 
and yet individual people are shining out brighter and brighter as the 
light around them drains away.

I suppose the metaphor answers the unasked question.  Perhaps my people 
aren't really so much better than they were or believe themselves to be, 
perhaps it's just the clear light of decency projected against a darkening 
background in the rest of the frame.  I don't think I believe this to be 
the whole truth though.  I think it's as much a growing facility in me to 
see the light, as much as any increase in the light or in its contrast to 
the rest of the world..  I guess this is a good thing, though it often 
leaves me feeling frustrated; if only person q could see what I see, then e 
wouldn't have to suffer with the self-image that maybe was never 
appropriate, or is no longer.

Last year, I wrote in passionately sad terms about a lack of beauty in my 
life.  With the turning wheel and the many changes that have taken place, I 
find myself back to July 1, and seeing the world differently.  I see many 
people muffling their own voices, hiding their light for many reasons.  I 
see the beauty behind the shields and wish it to come forth.  I can't force 
it, it isn't my beauty to project, they aren't my fears to overcome.

But I see you there in the corner, or walking along trying to be invisible, 
or believing that your beauty is chaos and ugliness because someone told 
you it was so.  I hear the snatches of song on the wind that are quickly 
covered up for fear they might offend.  I know some of a secret, that if 
all those songs and lights were released at once, the world would be 
brought to a stand and confronted with the dying of the light and given a 
choice of joy.

So what can I do to bring the hands away from covering your mouths?  How 
can I bring that dangerous gleam of merriment and mischief to your 
eyes?  How can I encourage you to join hands with one another for the sheer 
joy of unjudging, unagendaed touch?  I think this may be a piece of my 
purpose, and it's a worthy one.  I write not out of discouragement, but 
with a deep and strange hope.