There’s a sad disease that just won’t get out of my head; it’s a disease I can’t stop thinking about because it’s everywhere. Every summer when the weather starts to heat up I catch myself wondering the same thing who’s going to die this year? This disease is one that makes me constantly think that we as humans haven’t really evolved as much as we think. The disease of course is violence; a result of chronic hate, when left untreated lives are ruined and in a lot of cases ended.
Guns and gun powder are the worse two inventions ever created besides of course the atomic bomb. Guns have the ability to make the smallest person feel huge, or the weakest feel strong and important. They are easy to find and affordable enough for anyone with a source of income to own; my stomach twists in knots at the thought of how many families just spent the worst Christmas of their lives; the Christmas filled with mourning and death. There was a time when we as a society would be surprised and even shocked at the news of a shooting, but now it’s so often that we don’t even bat an eye.
Why is it that violence won’t die like a passing fad or disco? Why is hate, the precursor to violence so easily accepted? Hate, believe it or not is hard to live with, it starts out small and spreads like cancer, then it weighs on you. Hate consumes our minds, then before you know it the perceived reason for our hate is all we can think about. Hate becomes a burden which like a ticking time bomb leaves us vulnerable and able to blow at any little thing. The precursor to violence is a piggy back disease; hate comes into our souls with a deceptive friend, pride.
Pride is what keeps hate thriving in our souls; it’s the one thing that won’t let us get better and recover. As a kid I would hear my Grandmother say that the stronger man is the one who forgives; then of course like all young fools I would roll my eyes and block her out (behind her back of course I was not trying to get slapped). It occurred to me as I suffered under my own bout with hate that my Grandmother was indeed right. So through personal trial and error and through watching the lives of others I have found the cure to the hate HIV that is the beginning of the AIDS violence; forgiveness.
The cure for hate is just as deceptive as the anchor that holds it; because some of us can never imagine forgiving the person that killed our family member or the chick that stole our man. Since even I can see the benefits of hauling off and slapping that idiot who steps on a good pair of stilettos at the club; it is hard to see the effect this cure can have. This cure in fact frees us of the control hate has over our minds; forgiveness allows us to rip that anchor out so we can continue to live our lives and find happiness. I have put this into practice and have seen for myself how it works as a cleanser against the cancer that can grow in our hearts; maybe some time in my lifetime I will be able to see the trees bloom and the flowers grow without wondering who’s going to die this year.
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