Eyes Fixed

Jan 9, 2017

The older I get, the less I find myself nodding my head. Or at least, the less I nod my head without thinking. It’s one of those things we do to be polite, to let someone know we’re listening. But more and more I find myself standing still, listening hard with my eyes fixed at the speaker.

There are just things I don’t agree with. Like the idea that we have to be yelling louder than the next bunch in order to be heard. Or the notion that keeping your mouth shut means you don’t care. I get tired of others implying that I’m less than simply because I don’t feel the need to shout. I’m not interested.

I’d rather be purposeful about those things that feel right in my heart. To preach equality through race-blind smiles and neighborly help. To support women’s rights from my sewing room. I’d rather be quiet while I’m still trying to learn rather than jumping in with both feet about things I don’t yet understand.

I reserve the right to be myself and approach the problems and beauties of the world in my own way.

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