What My Perfect Post Would Say
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I realized today that my obsession with blogging is actually a search for the perfect post. I want to write a post that can heal the wounds of all who read it, that can turn a selfish reader into a selfless one, that can convince every reader that they don’t have to worry about their lives and the world, that could somehow convince every person who reads it to lay down their burdens and live in peace.
I know it’s naive, and I haven’t even gotten started. I want to write a post that can help people see God, that can help them heal their relationships, forgive those who have hurt them, and feel like it’s okay to be human, to be vulnerable, to not know the answers to every question, to drop their defenses, to stick their necks out a little.
Of course what I’ve written so far is in itself impossible, but the perfect post would do so much more. It would eradicate fear and hatred from our world, and then teach people how to live in the fearless, completely loving world that would be left. It would convince people once and for all of the absolute, objective value of learning to meditate, of not fearing one’s own company, of becoming comfortable in silence and seeking it out more often, of learning — whatever it takes — to be much less reactive and much more proactive.
I know, it’s getting really ridiculous now, isn’t it? It’s foolish to think that in one post I could convey to people how much I love them, how deeply I want their happiness, and how seriously I desire their prosperity and peace. I know that with all the posts in the world I will never convince some people that they are worthy of love, that they deserve their own best efforts toward joy, and that they do not have to live all their lives as victims of some unfortunate earlier period of time.
My perfect post would convince hateful people that hate is a dead-end and jealous and petty people that they can be more magnanimous, that the kingdom of self isn’t worth protecting, that so much more awaits the person who abandons it entirely and embraces selflessness — and the more, the better. Naturally, it would have to sufficiently make the case that contentment is worth its weight in gold, and it is utterly and completely achievable for most people, under almost any circumstance.
After reading my perfect post, people would feel empowered to fully be whoever they are. They would be better doctors, teachers, mechanics, gardeners, custodians, housewives, executives, and politicians. They would stop seeking to be someone else, and stop thinking there’s somebody out there who really has it together. They would accept themselves in their imperfection, while catching a vision for being better, and — without shame or fear — move steadily toward what is better. They would forgive themselves and the world for not being perfect and take their place as flawed people in a flawed world. All would realize we are at our best when someone grants us grace, and if we want the world to be better, we need to be grace-granters to others.
I have barely gotten started on all my perfect post would be and do. I would write it all tomorrow, but before I can write this post, I have to be the kind of person who has become all of those things so that I have all of it to write about. All that is left to me, then, is to write tomorrow from who I have managed to become tomorrow, and to rise and repeat each day.