Because in the conversation beneath this one what were really saying is I am an imperfect person. Here are my failures. Do you want me anyway? P 198
We put ourselves out there time and time again. Perhaps we are just optimists or maybe we are wired this way but we want to be with someone. To touch, to hold, to be held, to be comforted.
And yet to do so is a brave and courageous. To say Could you love me as I am? is a bold decisive act.
We extend a hand to a stranger. We smile when we meet someone new. Perhaps it is an act of courtesy but the hope is: Will we be friends, is this connection the beginning of something more?
But each day we read the news and we are saddened and shocked that others could act so horribly; that there is such unexplainable injustice in the world. I want to say: I know you are imperfect, I know that the country, this world has faults, but I am willing to look past them to work on them, to arrive at a better place for all of us.
But really, it is tiring and makes me feel like I am wearing heavy, heavy boots.
Today I sat in a roomful of kids as I showed them a movie at the Library. They laughed out loud, uncontrollably and with wild abandon. The sound was a force, it was truly beautiful. More than anything I wanted to bottle it up. To keep it to myself or send it in a letter to a friend who was feeling sad. Imagine opening a letter and having laughter pealing out as you lift the envelope flap. I know that no one can be uncheered by a balloon, but children laughing is melodious and marvelous.
During one of the scary parts one of my little girls came and sat beside me so I could hold her hand. We sat and watched in silence, taking comfort in our closeness.
I want to love in a world filled with laughter and beauty and flowers springing up unexpectedly in the middle of winter. I would wish that for everyone.
I don’t want to live in a world filled with injustice and racism and wrongful deaths. I don’t think anyone does. But what does one do with these thoughts? I feel small and inconsequential, as if I were born with wrong-colored skin. I am flailing around, not knowing what comes next or how to help.
So, I do what I do. I guide, I instruct, I recommend, I nurture. I show kids movies about bears and mice overcoming the obstacles to be friends and become a family.
I have a hope that maybe one of these children, or all of these children sitting here with me now, will help overcome prejudice and fear. That somehow they will do their part, however small, to make this world a better place. I want to believe it could be so.
Find out more about this great movie: http://www.ernestandcelestine.com/
And here’s one last quote from the book I wanted to share. Lacour sums up my feelings so well, I want to crawl inside the spaces between her words and take up residence there.
“We love films because they makes us feel something. They speak to our desires, which are never small. They allow us to escape and to dream and to gaze into the eyes that are impossibly beautiful and huge. They fill us with longing. But also. they tell us to remember; they remind us of life. Remember, they say, how much it hurts to have your heart broken.”