another brick in the wall

“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”  ― William Goldman, The Princess Bride
“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”
― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Here’s a wall down a side street in New Orleans. I’d been enjoying the beautiful flowers everywhere, how lovely and festive everything was, and then I encountered this empty wall.

But it’s not empty. It has a little mold growing on it, and then there’s that light. I don’t think it works. But maybe it does.

There’s something about a wall. It can keep things out, or keep things in. Robert Frost says it makes good neighbors, or something like that. Maybe it was fences he was talking about. It’s all the same.

I’ve been known to put up walls, and keep them up. The secret is they’re scalable. Or if you really try, you’ll find the secret passage and walk through.

Post A Day: Back to Life

Today’s interesting challenge poses the question: what’s the one thing you do to feel human again?

The preface establishes scenarios — a long flight, a grueling week. The suggestion that something has worn us out physically. The answer is rather dull: I take a nice hot shower. It feels good to be clean — to feel the grime washed away. There’s something to be said for the sensual pleasure of hot water flowing over me.

Nevertheless, I’d rather focus on the depth of the question: what makes me feel human? And perhaps of more interest, what could possibly have the effect of zapping my humanity?

I feel least human when I refuse to acknowledge the humanity of others. I can spend my day never making eye contact, never listening with my heart, never getting emotionally invested in the events happening right next to me.

I have become an expert in disassociating myself from the feelings of those around me. The sad part of that is that I lose a piece of my humanity along the way.

I have to allow myself to feel to get it back. I need to love. I need to love, not just those who love me back, but those who are difficult to love, too. The demanding family member. The obnoxious neighbor. The uncooperative colleague.

I need to learn to love like God loves.

And I need to allow myself to cry, whether it’s in grief or gratitude, joy or anger, appreciation or frustration. It’s an amazing catharsis to cry – to express through tears a multitude of emotions.

What could be more human than that?

Pin It on Pinterest