This morning I found this in my email … and I sit here at this computer and am totally amazed how simple it is. These are brief words, powerful words, and their message is ageless. So many people go through their entire lives and miss it. They seem to miss the point. I’m on the verge of being one of those people. I have to look at this again and again and hope it sinks in and begins to grow inside of my heart before my heart turns into hard cold stone.
"Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it." ---Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I choose the path of Love.
Our earth has enough bitter in it. There has been enough hate in our earth to soak the ground and run off into the little streams and pollute the major rivers that flow into the deep oceans around our earth. There has been enough bitterness and hate and prejudice and cruelty and pain to saturate our earth and have it soak into the tender roots of our plants that grow in the fertile black soil. And our earth has seen enough sadness to cause tears to burst from the clouds overhead and rain on every single inch of our precious world. Yes, I suppose so.
And if that is the case, and we all know it is … then why in the world would I be tempted to add one more drop of bitterness to this already tainted cauldron that simmers on the embers of time? Why in the world would I be tempted to stare into that churning fluid and consider adding my own bitterness to the mix? Why would I think that is a choice I should make?
Because people before me did it? Because history repeats itself? Because I am powerless against the pull and the magnetism of regenerated hate? Because I don’t know how to turn away from it or reject it?
We always have a choice, I suppose. Nomatter how much bitterness has been poured into that boiling pot, nomatter how long the line is of people who have been hurt, and who carry two glass vials with them, contemplating this choice while they stand in line and wait their turn to pour either hate or love into the mix. They watch everybody before them, holding the precious vials in opposite hands, sometimes sweat pouring down their arms because the indecision is absolutely excruciating. They say to themselves, “Well, he did it and I have more pain than him. I have more reason to hate than him. My life has been so unfair.”
Eventually the line grows shorter and shorter and finally you are standing there in front of the damned thing yourself, shaking because you still have so much hate in that vial in your left hand, and more than anything you want to smash the fragile glass and throw it in, all of it, empty your hand of that poison.
And when you are standing there faced with this decision, you have many people behind you in line waiting and watching you. You are not ever alone. You are always with more than just yourself. Even when you feel abandoned by everyone and separated from everyone, you are not alone by any means. You are constantly surrounded by everything and everyone that ever was and ever will be. You are a part of the energy of this world.
Yesterday I took a walk along the river and watched the last of the fall leaves glow in the fading sun. It was the longest walk I have ever taken along the river. It was good walking into the sun, watching it bounce off of the water and seeing gold and orange and yellow ripples all along the way. And I wasn’t alone. I had a “guide” with me who was constantly telling me to choose love. Sometimes I looked into those eyes and point blank said “You’re wasting your breath. It’s done. I can’t turn back now. Too much hate has been thrown on top of me.”
And this morning I realize that I am still standing in line and my turn to pour from either the right hand or the left hand is not here yet. I am still standing in line waiting to make that decision. It is not done yet. It is not over yet. I haven’t had my turn yet.
Most of the trees along the river path were grey and dark and bare. Most of them were already prepared for winter and were turning numb. Most of them have surrendered to the ice ahead. But some of them were still glowing and seemed to be standing in a moment of total glory and beauty. Some of them were just peaking and were almost radiating with color. Soon enough the cold sleep of winter comes to us all. Soon enough we glance over our shoulders and remember when we were glowing with vibrant color. Soon enough we will be named “a memory.” Maybe now, while we still have the choice and while we still have the power to make a difference, maybe now is a good time to choose wisely and consider the fact that we are not alone. This forest along the ageless river is thick and dense and goes deep. All the different varieties of trees that line the river have their own time to shine and their own color to show. Some are yellow and some are gold and some are red and some are orange. And each one of them adds their contribution to the day.
