Love.

"Love is our resistance..."
          - Resistance, Muse

The world of people have been weighing heavily on me. Each and everyone who chooses to act without love and care to the other inhabitants of this world, on any level. There's too much violence, too much hatred. It overwhelms me some days.

I'm always reminded that we only get one chance; every day, every week, every month, every year of our lives are the only ones we have. There are people whose chances at a healthy, happy life are slim. Some of them are trapped in the bondage of slavery at the hands of oppressors. Some face the tyranny of hunger, while others are the victims of any number of problems related to poverty.

We, here in our comfortable cars and homes... we are the lucky ones. Our developed country has more than it needs, overwhelmingly so. By all standards, we should be happy. We should be the people to choose to put others first.

But what I see every day, all too often, is people who actively opt to put themselves before others, choosing to endanger others on the roads and streets, in the towns and countryside. In the store, at the gas pump. On Facebook, the news. It never stops, this barrage. It's breaking me to watch this brokenness.

I posted about it on Facebook the other night, like I often do. But this time, I got responses that shook me, woke me from my sad slumber. I'm not here to angrily rage against the machine. I'm here to love. If I'm going to make a difference, it will be in the moments I choose to love instead of hate. Because it's far too easy to hate the blind fat catness I see on the faces of people who make the decision not to care about others. Simple to despise the people I pass in the grocery store, and on the street. The driver or dog owner who is negligent toward non-typical road users. When I choose hate instead of love, I am making the same decision I loathe so much in the character of the others.

Hate cultivates hate. Love cultivates love.

I can't let my fear drive me to hatred. It's too much weight for me to bear. It's numb and empty. It's imperative to be what I want others to be. Even when it hurts... but that presumes it will always hurt to make the choice to love the unlovable.

I have to approach this intelligently, to believe people can, indeed, change. Things can get better. There's the oft used, likely misplaced quote by Ghandi about being the change you wish to see in the world. I must be patient. I can't expect an overnight change. Things may never change, but that doesn't make my efforts worthless.

In contrast to the people I see doing the wrong thing, I must remind myself of the excellent things I see people do for one another, the kind things people do for me. The little boys who helped Hobbes up at the gym when they bumped him over playing basketball. The lady who let me go in front of her at the grocery store when I was dealing with a yelling three year old. The people who drive safely. The ones who are out there making a difference in the lives of those who've had no chance before.

Those people, those lovers, they must inform my worldview, how I operate, and what I assume about others. How I interact with those around me. How I conduct myself. Things can get better. They will.

Thanks to those who encouraged me the other night.