“A lot of people, especially this psychoanalyst guy they have here, keeps asking me if I’m going to apply myself when I go back to school next September. It’s such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean how do you know what you’re going to do till you do it? The answer is, you don’t. I think I am, but how do I know? I swear it’s a stupid question.”
- Holden Caulfield
Maybe this is where it starts, this great journey to courage. Maybe it starts right here, today, among the blossoms of bliss. Maybe, all the courage you will ever need to face all the despair and hardships in life, is nurtured and grown in these days of solitude and peace. Like a baby grows and develops inside a womb until it is ready to come out and scream at the world and the unseen. That simple act is an act of great courage. And no baby decides to stay in its mothers womb. That is how we all began, with an act of great courage.
So I have faith for us yet. I have faith, somewhere in this heart, for this generation and for this nation. I have faith because i see how God made us, how he formed us, and how he called each of us out of that womb of comfort and reliance and selfishness, to face all the perils of the unknown. To breath air that has not yet been inhaled. To be touched and held by the hands of strangers. To be nursed by the one who gave birth to you. Yes, i have faith for us yet.
I believe in change, and that the next great shift to shake this nation will not be provoked by the act of men in power, or the evil that so easily dethrones them. But by the surging heart of the common man. It will come from the deep part of man’s soul that governs change and choice.
The great shift will take place on those desolate battle fields. Not on the high planes, where red, white, blue and gray once waved. It will not come through the changing and readjusting of laws. It will not come through industry and the winding and grinding of gears. It will not come through the creaky, decrepit stage of entertainment, warped by years of abuse and reduced to rotten wood, hollow and frail, ready to go up in flames from a small spark of reality and hardship. It will not come through the great collective of the masses, whose voices are hoarse and whose throats are dry for nothing but a bright number flashing on a bright screen, under bright lights. It will not come through the weak politicians or the jokers who criticize their every decision.
We cannot expect to change anything if all we can agree on is how much we enjoy holding hands under the banner of meaninglessness. We must burn that banner, along with everything that holds it up. Its weak poles and its pathetic guards who sit at its base rather than march for its fake and hollow glory.
This, sadly, has become the goal of this generation. To mean nothing. To not exist. To grow sluggish and numb by feeding on the feast our forefathers won through great bravery and courage and honor.
And yet i still find hope and faith for us all, by dwelling upon our first great human act of courage. Being born.
-Parcleve
Love is a seed, small and gentle. It needs a hand to bury it and soul to make its home. There it will grow, slow and strong, with cold rain to feed it and the warmth of the sun to sustain it. This seed must endure many seasons before becoming anything that resembles its full glory. But if nurtured and loved by nature and a patient hand, it will grow, strong and true, into all that it was meant to be.
So what shall we do with this symbol of love, so weak and so fragile? Some would be tempted to put it in their pocket and keep it for themselves, letting it be nothing but a token of what could never be planted, and what could never be trusted.
Some would discard it and throw it to the wind, unable to recognize any beauty in it. Only to watch it be trampled by men or eaten by hungry birds.
Some would crush it with a stiff hand of bitterness, denying its potential and strangling all life that it holds.
What will you do with it?
For it is foolishness to wish for a tree, when all you have in your hand is a seed.
Look at it closely and you will find life and limbs, ready to spread and blossom.
So, what will you do with this small seed of love?
-Parcleve