Will You Dance? Taking Off the Blinders and the Band-Aids

Hurt people hurt people.
We know that. But are we really listening? Are we acting accordingly? Do we work with what we have and apply what we know, taking that next right step, starting close in, as the poem reminds us?
Awareness and action must take place at all levels. If one treats only effects, the causes continue to shape yet another cohort, yet another generation.
Have we as a society grown up enough to be able to take the short view AND the long view? To do what needs to be done in the immediate, at the surface, without forgetting what’s underneath and *why? To look for the roots, and focus on radically addressing those?
As long as battles rage inside our hearts and minds, inside our homes, our families, our schools, our workplaces, inside our ever-expanding circles of community and influence, battles will continue to rage on the larger scale, in whatever shape has boiled to the surface. As within, so without.
Address the acute, yes. But don’t forget to ask why. And if we *really mean it – and don’t just mouth it – to commit sufficient resources to treating the causes.
Our world needs no more Band-aids. The ones we’ve applied in times past have grown tattered and worn over the years, while the wounds they cover have festered inside and grown sour with age and infection. And all too often, we may find those Band-aids weren’t over our elbows and our knees this time – they were over our eyes. Some folks might call them blinders.
It’s time to take off those Band-aids, however they may have served, however they may have been intended. One person at a time, one wound at a time, if necessary. After all, really, that’s where it begins – on the inside – where, when we find that place of balance, we can begin to weave a dance of change in our lives and in the world around us, and to invite others to join us in that weaving.
Over this morning’s coffee, I recommit to removing the bandages I may have applied in my own life, to my own eyes, to facing what needs to be faced, to healing what needs to be healed, and to weaving that dance to best of my ability.
And as I dance, I recommit to pausing in front of you – and you – and you – to holding out my hand and asking from my heart, “May I have this dance?”
Will you dance with me?
(C) 2017 Mary Batson, FrontPorchRambles.com
All rights reserved, especially the one to dance.


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