Monday, October 26, 2009


At times, I've been told I am cynical. Usually, I've been guilty as charged. Perhaps because the object is so familiar to my own hand, I notice how much power cynicism has over cultures, specifically the culture of my generation. We're tired of the chaos, tired of the mud-slinging, tired of seeing people sacrificed for ideologies. More than the ideas and practices that we question, we're disturbed by how quickly people can be hurt in their questioning. We can see that rocking the proverbial boat is frightening to the rowers, but we're just tired of the ensuing tensions. We want to know we're heard, but our talking seems to only draw darker dividing lines. So, we take comfort in our cynicism, like an over-stuffed chair. It gives us a safe way to let each other know we're hurting, without being too vulnerable.

What have we done? Have we helped or hurt ourselves? Have we helped or hurt others?

Cynicism denies the hope of change, of restored relationships and satisfying communication. It prevents us from working toward that end.

If the most common bond is our shared cynicism, we're fragmented indeed.

Cynicism blinds me to the other side of the coin. If I remember it exists, I don't have the energy to care.

I don't have any patented cures or five-step procedures. I'm just asking God to open my eyes, to help me see my sphere of operation as He does.

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