Wednesday, October 20, 2010

A day of purple

I am not an activist
I don't know why.
I hate debating.
Its not that I don't believe in things strong enough to debate them.
Its just that I don't want to.
Honestly when I look at topics of debate all I keep seeing is people. Not topics.
And although debates are often in defense of people, or choices I wonder sometimes if the actual people get missed in exchange for the cause. Even if the cause is worthy.
Today I am wearing purple and doing laundry
My wardrobe is black mostly
Not because I am sad, just simply because I like it.
Purple means spirit.
Spirit by definition means many things. Here is one thing it means according to Dictionary.com. They know almost as much as Google:)


an attitude or principle that inspires, animates, or pervades thought, feeling, or action: the spirit of reform.
I don't know what I can inspire today, or if I can pervade any thought or feeling or especially action. I have taken my own action today, along with many others by changing the colour of my shirt to honor some lonely ill-treated gay teens who needed more love displayed  toward them. Enough they could feel it. More than the hate they felt from the outside, or maybe within themselves. We will never know.
I wish I could define in words how I truly feel. But words seem so feeble sometimes in expressing spirit.
Inside, the spirit in me groans.
Not for an activist stance one way or another.
Not for a debate or a cause.
But for love.
Love that is big enough to bring every single human heart to life.
Love that speaks to an invidvidual and tells that individual that they are valuable. accepted. and a neccessary part of the human race. 
The kind of love that leaves us speechless.
The kind of love where in our very cells we realize there is nothing to fear except maybe fear itself.
Fear truly is a thief.
I have had much of it. And everytime I face my fears and they have been met with love?
My fear has decreased and I have felt relief in the fact that I am not alone, and someone might understand me just a little.
Facing fear is hard.
Being vulnerable is hard.
Which is a requirement of love.
Risking mockery as a teenager because you choose to be the loving one instead of the mocking one is hard.
But my heart longs to go deeper and grasp the roots of this organic and most needed entity for life.
Attempting love, can only make us better at it.
I wonder how I can try this today?
And if you don't know it today let others know it for you.
you are valuable.
priceless even...

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