Every time I hear about a person that I think can't POSSIBLY have any good left anywhere inside them (you all know what I'm talking about.. the horror stories, the unthinkable, the things that keep you up at night)... I picture them as a small child. So small that sometimes they are babies. How can you be angry at a baby? My self-righteousness melts. We demonize these people not only because of what they do, but because we are afraid and don't understand- how did they get that way? They must not be human like us, right?
Well, they got that way the same way you and I became the way we are. Some things we could help and some things we had no control over. And that scares us. It scares us to admit that this terrible person is as human as we are. So we shut them out, away from our compassion, because they don't deserve it; they aren't human like us. But in doing so we also shut down our own love for ourselves, the compassion for our own mistakes that we make every day. We can't love those parts of us- can we? If we do that, we might become like those monsters! Or is the opposite true? If we shut down compassion for anyone or anything, how can we be a good person? We try to justify having some walls up- after all, they don't DESERVE love! But soon we see the truth- that even the tiniest of obstructions to the natural flow of love affects how we feel.
I try to let go of hate because it feels good to me. It feels right and genuine to feel love; it feels like very hard work to feel hate. Look! I am clenching my fists and panting and pacing. How much work it is!! I choose to give this person love even though they don't deserve it. Why? Not for them at first, but for me. Because if my heart is full of hate for what they have done... then I have let their suffering extend to me. The only resilience against hate is love. You cannot fight the hate in the world by filling it with more hate. You will exhaust yourself! But love is never ending- just ask a mother or a father. Love is easy. Hate is hard.
When I picture the object of my anger as a small child, I am reminded that we all start out equally beautiful and innocent and good. And I am reminded that they are, just like I am, not tied to the person they are today. Just as they were made into the person they are, so am I being made. And I can unmake, or remake, or just be who I am. And that is my choice to make. It is your choice too.
Which will we decide? The easy lie, or the difficult truth? The truth may hurt at first, but nothing hurts as bad as a lifetime of suffering, brought on by avoiding the truth. When you sit down with yourself and see who you really are, will you take the red pill or the blue pill? Will you make excuses for your bad behavior, or will you love yourself by admitting you were wrong?
You are the sun, not the clouds.
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