There’s a rather plain and flat old park outside of where I live.
I’ve gone there very often. To do typical things.
You know what I do there, you know what you do in such a place.
You think about your life, you ponder what to do.
You imagine future conflicts, you savor joys to come.
You try to feel immersed, looking at the trees.
You attempt to feel connectedness with nature.
And usually, it just kind of works, but you do it anyway.
What could be more universal,
then trying to feel somehow, and pleasantly, bonded to the space around you?
What could we commend more,
than trying to envision a better you to come?
When we try and love just going out for a nice walk,
that contains the humble boldness of trying to really grow.
When we try to gain dominion over social situations,
that is so much like the wish to be glad
that you can you can look up at the sky.
Such wonderful tenderness, such sweet boldness.
Aching for some closeness to goodness
that may or may not become part of you,
how could anything be more beautiful?
The undulations of “this is for me, this is for the world”.
The wavering of “I am in a time and place, there is so much more than me and this”
Yes, you are forged by those such fires.
You are the strongest creature.
And you know, so is everyone else.
But other people aren’t the version of strong that you admire.
They mock the ache to be somehow very nice,
by winding up apparently cruel.
They denigrate the quaintness and infinity of possibility in life,
by leaning towards self-advancement rather than appreciation for everything.
That is what you feel.
That is what we all feel.
That is how we are.
That is how we must be.
We are not meant to be as plainly giving to each other
as the self-help books tell you to be.
We aren’t destined to always smile
at the elegance of trees within the breeze.
This is what you are, isn’t it?
I know it’s what I am.
We enter heated moments where we feel like magma,
we cool off toward stretches where we feel like stone.
What you is are metamorphic.
A being whose structure is based upon the undulations you experienced, that were very linked to the fluctuations in the bedrock of space and time and nature and society,
and your shape will affect those pulsations in the earth.
So the next time someone makes you cry with inspiration,
know that they could cause an earthquake with their form of niceness.
And the next time anyone makes you burn with rage,
know that it’s the undulant compression of the world in which they shaped themselves.
The key to humanity becoming as great as we think we are,
is being able to see each other’s undulations.
To see what makes us so elegantly unsure of our goodness.
It’s the only way for us to stop wanting to insult each other.
It’s what you already do to try and relate to others.
It’s the force we’ve already been trying to reign in.
We’ve made such an amusing showtime out of this.
We have always tempted for someone to stop all the indignity.
Maybe that type of person can be encouraged by me.
No more “for love and justice”, “for the end of hate and violence.”
Way more “for the proper cooling of the burning kindness”.
We all have a meteor to catch.
I won’t plea anymore. This here’s my manifesto.