The Scrape

 

 

I revere the humble human in a recovery group’s metal folding chair.

They tend to risk and reveal

more than a church member in a pew.

The bravest and strongest people I know show their “weakness” and are truly self-aware.

They are awake.

We don’t know what we don’t know, nor when we’re asleep.

But this isn’t just for those sitting on hard, metal chairs or long wooden benches.

It’s for anyone who tends to entrench…

Calling it faith, or loyalty, or principle

Showing an alliance to something or someone unworthy of this devotion.

Humans who can’t admit they’ve been mired in pride, been wrong, duped, or stubborn.

Too self-righteous for concession or change.

Having muddy heels from digging in for so long

But the muck’s okay

That clay can be scraped away

And if a faint stain does remain—even better

It’s evidence of sweet humble feet willing to turn…

And head another way.

A mule is a fool, and a horse with blinders has a narrow view

The world is expansive, and it would be great if our minds were, too.