The past few weeks I have been at my introverted best. I have been sitting quietly. Thinking. Stewing a little. Stepping on a soapbox only to immediately step off. This is what I do with controversy. I watch. And listen. And think. And almost speak.
Once again I have found myself at a loss. Not just a loss of words, but at times even a loss of thoughts. I don’t know what to think. But a lot of other people certainly do. Facebook has a way of handing everyone a megaphone. While they sit behind a curtain. Funny how much more one can say behind a curtain. A little like I am now I guess. I listened while everyone was shouting into their megaphones. I listened while they chose sides. I was both surprised and not surprised. I learned that some issues are so polarizing that a middle voice does not exist. I realized that I used to think the news was that middle voice, but have since changed my mind. I found that everyone with a megaphone had an agenda. And was shouting it into my face. And yet not looking me in the eye. Pesky curtains…
Eventually I settled into a deep disappointment—not so much with humanity but with real people. People in my life, people I socialize with, people who are my friends. That is when I began to climb upon the soapbox. But I stopped. Why should I get a megaphone? What agenda am I about to push? Who am I to speak?
I went to a panel discussion. One where real live people spoke to other real live people—about a controversial issue—without yelling—and while looking at each other in the eyes. I was in awe of the exchange of ideas and emotion. The cathartic outpouring of stories, of supporting each other, of looking toward the future. Not everyone hides behind a curtain.
I realized that I am not ready to step on the soapbox. There is this log in my own eye I must remove first. I am not without guilt. The beauty is that I now have a starting point. A direction in which to move my foot. I even have a plan. I have heard that logs can be removed from eyes, but that it can take a while. It may also be painful. But all I can think of is how good it will feel when it is gone.