Reveries and Introspection
From time to time I’ve dreamt that I was with Bill and Hillary Clinton endeavoring to make them see that they needn’t have been so secretive or duplicitous, that if they’d been honest and open about their beliefs and feelings, the results might have been more positive. In those dreams they’d developed their personas because of fear of criticism and rejection (and perhaps fear of political failure), because of who they were and because of very personal decisions they’d taken which were not really other people’s business. In those dreams they’d listen carefully to my observations, and consider them, but the dreams were always interrupted before they’d acted on or rejected my perceptions. Still, in those dreams they’d seemed sincere and vulnerable and seeking solutions.
If I were the person I’d like to be, someone with a soul attuned in some fashion to the legendary Jesus, I might have had similar “conversations” with other people history has judged harshly. Perhaps with Hitler and Stalin or with Saloth Sar. Or with Dick Cheney or Bibi Netanyahu. Or now, with Donald Trump. Not that I’m comparing any of them with the others, other than in seeking to understand why they became who they became, or if indeed, history has judged them fairly. Perhaps it reflects a concern as to how I am or will be perceived, or would have been perceived if I’d been among the ranks of the famous and powerful. Like all of us, I’ve developed deeply held discernments concerning all of the forgoing, perceptions not necessarily shared by people I consider intelligent (if not always wise), and in both cases, it’s certainly possible my perception is the one misguided.
In my personal life I always try to do what is right but frequently fail either because the context leads me astray or because I lack adequate time to make a correct decision and just react, or because I just have no idea what the right decision may be, but need to act. I think that’s true of most, if not all of us. I regret the times I’ve not acted as I should have, regardless of the reason, but perhaps my worst fault with reference to the foregoing, perhaps one shared by most of us is that, not infrequently enough, I’m unwilling to accept the fact that I acted inappropriately and that my actions affected others in a negative fashion.
Some of those I referenced above, like me, are still alive, still free to improve, to change our images, to change the ripples we’ve made in history’s tapestry. Perhaps that’s what those dreams sought to teach me.
© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2017; all rights reserved