gentleness

Sometimes I really struggle with being gentle. Gentle with myself, gentle with others, gentle with the world. I nitpick at my scars and my sharp edges, trying to shove them out of sight so I can look somewhat whole. I frown at the ragged seams I see in others' lives and judge their messiness while trying to ignore my own chaos. I retreat from the world and the explosions, wars, tears, deaths, and disasters that filter across my television screen, computer screen, phone screen. I retreat into myself and stare again at the four walls of my chaos and desperately try to paint over the grooves that time has worn into my soul.

But sometimes someone reminds me that to live as I desire to live - to have love, peace, and joy become my center, my circumference - I must learn again to be gentle in the face of the chaos. I must learn again to be kind to the scars I see in myself and mirrored in others. While I am fighting my own demons and my own disasters, everyone else around me is facing their own Goliaths and trying to be David.

I want to be a nurturer. To become the warm embrace of the sun in the dreary landscape of a friend's depression. To become the strong shoulder to lean on for the downtrodden. To become like the laughter of a child that utterly refreshes the soul of those who hear it.

I am not always gentle. I do not always nurture. I do not always see the big picture of love. I do not always understand the impact of small acts of love over time and think the grandest overture has more of an impact. But we cherish the small things and tweet the large ones. I want to become a cherisher and the cherished.