I often go back to the famous quote by Anne Frank, which is something that I had heard about when I was younger. However, I was too caught up in the angst of my youth and my resentments to realize that I might not forget what happened, and I might not forget who or what hurt me; but the ideas of forgiveness can be as freeing as the liberation of hate.
The quote is far bigger than these few words, however, Anne Frank wrote, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are good at heart.”
She goes on to call the world a wilderness and talks about how the thunder is approaching — and despite what was around her, she says how somehow, she still believes “that all will be right, the suffering will end, and peace and tranquility will return.”
I have seen evidence of hate and despair. I have watched good things happen to bad people, and have been there to witness bad things happening to good people.
I have seen fate and destiny pull their trick and I have seen, felt, heard and even more, I have had to surrender to the bankruptcy of karmic debt.
But yes, in spite of everything, I still believe in goodness. I believe in love. I do believe in marriage. I believe in the grace, and the sanctity, and the magical warmth of the word we call “home.”
I understand that not all things can be as they are. I understand people change and feelings change. Equally, I understand the lingering pains that come with resentment and anger.
But where does this leave us?
Or where does this leave me?
How does hate or anger and resentment help anyone?
An eye for an eye. Is that it?
Maybe this is why we are all so blind.
I can live hatefully. I can do this easily too.
I can be mad about “what is” or I can be outraged about “what was” and I can lose my mind, if that’s what I want to do.
I can call out the injustice and point my finger and say how “this is not fair,” or I can say that what happened was unfair, or that I never had a real chance because I have a past and the odds were stacked against me.
I can shake my fists at the sky and hate the world.
I can have hatred for God, that is if I choose to believe in Him, and I can hate karma, I can hate the depths and sources of my pains and I can hate the way I look and I can hate the way I feel. I can hate you, and I can hate the rest of the world, but where does this leave me?
Or you?
Or us?
Or where does this leave anyone?
Where is the justice in outrage?
Where is the “happily ever after” and where is the energy for something so light, so beautiful, or so pure, peaceful, or something else, like where is the relief from something as innocent as the first sunset in summertime and when I notice the fireflies.
I have a thing for fireflies. I have this thing because I remember seeing them at a moment of turmoil and while the time was unkind, I thought about how crazy things can be (or seem) and still, peace and goodness are all real things.
I have seen hatred and violence. I have seen and witnessed an attack on my Country’s soil, which took place on September 11, 2001.
I was in my own hell that year, young and stupid, and about to make a mistake which I knew this was wrong — yet, I went along for the ride anyway because in my head and in my heart, I never believed that anyone would love me totally, fully, and unconditionally, nor was I ready for something this big or prepared or emotionally responsible enough to meet this way of life with a true and opened heart.
At the same time, in spite of everything, I knew there was more for me. I knew there was love for me. I knew that I wanted more. However, I felt the thunder come and I saw the uphill battle and the emotional onslaught that was about to take place. I knew I was going the wrong way, but hey, I went along for the ride, so what else could I do?
I buckled myself in and drove my life into the ground like an old beat up Chevy that had no business being on the road.
I have learned:
For every action, there is a reaction. Yes, I find the world is reacting in a way, or like the terms of consequences, I am where I am because I have been where I have been.
But what does this do for me?
I am alone and I will be for a while.
But I still believe.
I’m not sure that I believe that all people are good at heart, and I cannot say that I do or don’t believe that peace and tranquility will return. However, peace cannot exist when turmoil in the heart is more present than love and kindness.
Is it so bad to be alone?
Or am I supposed to be here because the new dawn is on its way, and thus, I am about to witness an uprising of beauty. If or when this does happen, will I have learned enough to leave behind the old armor and the old artillery?
I mentioned this because the old wars are over and there is no need to shoot first and ask questions later.
I say this because:
I don’t want to fight.
I don’t want to argue.
I don’t want to hate anyone.
The war is over.
Anne Frank didn’t make it out alive.
She saw far worse than I have, yet she still believed that people are really good at heart.
Therefore, I have no excuse.
I have no excuse or reason to be hateful.
I should regard myself as fortunate. Therefore, I will nurture my wounds and heal. I will adjust my sights. I will make my way through today because, in all fairness, this is all I have (for now).
I will allow myself to be open to fate and destiny because maybe these two spirits can pull a trick for me, and maybe I can find my greener pastures which extend far beyond my wildest dreams.
I will close with the ending of Bob Dylan’s song, Make You Feel My Love.
I love this song.
I will close with this because in spite of everything, I still believe my heart has the capacity to love more than even I can imagine.
I know there is love out there for me, and I know all about the “highway of regret.”
I know this—
“The storm is raging on the rolling sea
And on the highway of regret.
The winds of change are blowing wild and free—
You ain’t seen nothing like me yet.
I could make you happy,
make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn’t do
Go to the ends of the Earth for you
—To make you feel my love.”
I have been around and, yes, I have been down the highway of regret. At the same time, I still believe in that little boy in my heart.
I still believe in that “kid” in me, who wants to play and live. I believe in the young and the truthful soul of me who wants to hand off a rose to the love of my life.
And yes, if I could, I would destroy the “me” from my yesterday.
But yesterday is in the past and the past is gone.
The war is over.
The damage is done.
The only way peace can survive is if I choose to resign my station as a soldier, wounded and beaten, or angry and resentful. For now, or from now on, let me be a farmer.
Let me be simple. Let me be easily led to fields of warmth and let me believe in hope because when (or if) the chance to love you comes again, I promise that I will do whatever I can . . .
To make you feel my love.
The war is over and nobody won. If it is true that to the victor goes the spoils, then let’s spoil ourselves by allowing our losses to be enough to learn for our future.
Nothing lives in the past –
no air to breathe.
no sun to feel
just memories of what was.
And me?
I want to work on what will be
so that I can find peace
and breathe,
and maybe dance
or like the Piano Man sang
“to forget about life for a while.”
Okay?
The Written Addiction 