“back in the day”, there was this person, not some I know well (!), but someone…well, let’s just call him “Old Byron”. He was a nice fellow, well, sorta. The thing was, he was very pointed and didn’t (appear) to care about other’s feelings so much. He told things as they were (or, at least as he saw them). He stepped on people. Was fairly pious. And made some enemies along the way.
I’m not exactly sure what happened, perhaps it was the songs coming up from Whoville… But, he grew a heart. And that heart continued (continues?) to grow.
Unfortunately, when one grows a heart and begins to wear it on his sleeve, 2 things happen. That heart can be in a vulnerable place, a place where IT can be stepped on and bruised by others, the very thing that it used to do to others. And, it can be subdued to the point that it no longer speaks the wisdom/truth that it needs to, in spite of urgings to do just that.
I miss the Old Byron at times. He was more black and white about things, as wrong as that may have been. He didn’t allow hurt to touch him, rather, he did the hurting first. And he often spoke without thinking. The New Byron is soft.
Sometimes I feel like a Newer Byron needs to be developed. Some of the decisiveness (if I can use that word about myself!) of the Old with some of the feelings of the New. I don’t wish to hurt people, yet, I don’t wish to be hurt.
I’m finding the line between judgment and love to be more blurred than ever.
I wonder what Old Byron would think.
