On this 17th anniversary of a darker-than-dark day, I know that if I accidentally turn on the TV and it’s on a news channel, I will be bombarded with images of disaster, of planes hitting towers, of people running to and fro. Played in a loop. I won’t do that. Instead, I shall share this wonderful post by my friend Marc over at Sorryless because it is stories like these that I prefer to share.
People are inherently good.
We’re raised to believe this concept from the time we’re old enough to get bored during liturgy and choose sides on the playground. Most kids aren’t concerned with empirical validation when the freedoms they hold most dear are threatened; yanno, stuff like playtime and dessert.
Then there was me.
I questioned everything, no matter how convincing the adults were at selling the points. I wanted to believe people were generally good, but I had myriad reasons to be skeptical. Adding to my distrust of the status quo was the fact that I read, a lot. And I observed, everything.
So it was that I questioned the cross stitched tenets of a happy life, which mandated that you go to school, score a good job and get married. Societal conventions read like a manual, and I knew that spiritual complications navigated through so much more than a…
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