Lunch
I like my conflicted friends, this pack of animals that teach me some much about the world and myself. Everyday it is a humbling moment, an epiphany, a revelation coming from all of them.
And yet I try to change them, to know more, run more, climb higher than them.
On occasion, though, I will shut up and acknowledge their wisdom, and allow myself to learn a little about the world. But oh boy do I want to tell them the revealed truth.
This has happened with one friend whom I see as conflicted and contradictory. And of course, my help, my intervention, can bring me satisfactions. Yet what is the point? I am trying to do something, to connect the dots, to relate to them only because of the benefit implied in that relationship? Or am I being the self-appointed guide, trying to elucidate some dark path and analyze somebody else's life and reasons.
Any of those stay in the way of me actually enjoying the company of my friend. Any of those, though laden with good intentions, will surely kill any communication. Any of those are simply illusions in front of who I am and what I do.
The pure simple enjoyment of their company, listening to their inquisitive but somewhat hidden wisdom, and the appreciation of the world through their eyes are some of the gifts that I receive when with that person. All my thoughts, scenarios, and internal conversations are just that, noise in the system, interference that precludes me from diving into the pool that are those eyes.
I am going to this lunch without knowledge, without reservation, without objective; I am going completely empty and transparent.