Every human being has their story and we cannot live each others story, only hope to understand some of it. When I look into the eyes of another individual and listen to him or her speak, I am not thinking what colour their skin is or what religion they are or what political affilations they have, I am looking into their eyes for the integrity of their soul, and in that single moment there is a perfect world, and often love and truth is reflected within and behind their words.
I think it is ordinary hard-working men and women that weave the fabric of goodness in the world, which protects us from the greater invasive forces that try to use and influence our lives. Often I am hurt, split apart, made angry, but these feelings, though very real have to be acknowledged, only really divert my attention for a moment, from the universal consciousness I share with everyone.
Even bad men have a vulnerable child within them.
It took me the best part of my life to realise that I don’t have to live up to other peoples expectations and that loving someone unconditionally brings on a very real feeling of happiness. The less I have the better I feel. That food and shelter are the birthright of every human being and should be free. That all life on earth is as sacred and meaningful as mine.
Perhaps there is a much greater lesson than we think in the integration of different peoples in the world. And the poppies we wear unite our spirits and for a day quieten our angry hearts.