Lightly

Lightly, gently, touch me, see that I am real. Because we all are, in our own way, or at least that’s what I believe. Fonts that are too big, too small, these things make me feel large and perfect. A kind, unpretentious act should bring me to tears, but that depends on the person who does it. Freedom isn’t grand and gigantic; it’s soft and small, almost imperceptible. It’s not doing what you want, it’s following the rules, and dreaming of flying. Up in the sky, there is a place where everyone can fly, and they love each other, and they never give up. They are ancient, and fresh, and young. They sing, and play, and just watch. One day, I hope you go there, to that place, and realize that flying isn’t that hard, after all: it’s just the idea that confuses people. Everyone’s scared, but everyone believes, too. We have a fire, each of us, and we must find it out. I found it, and gave it to the world; you’re reading it. People call it a “power,” but it’s really a fire, for it lights us up, it warms us and comforts us through the dark night. Some sing, some write, some fly, some merely live in joy. Because the dark isn’t evil; just the things that hide in it. And you will never know, but just continue, and smile, and listen. Listening is the best thing you can do, if you listen and understand. To understand, you must not have an opinion, or judge. “Why does she do that?” if you have no opinion, if you do not judge what she is doing, you will understand. You will comprehend what it is, and the reason behind it. And that’s how to describe light and darkness to a blind person: Darkness is like ignorance: it hides things, while light is like knowledge and wisdom: it exposes the truth.