Fragmented Nonsensical Frustrations

Tolerance is nonsense.
Praying, good vibes, good thoughts, and silences are not going to cut it.

The more hate society builds, the more lines it draws, people it sections into categories labeled with stereotypes that allow those on one side to point fingers and jump to conclusions and lump the "others" all into one neat little bubble of blame, the more and more this is going to happen.
This goes for conservatives pointing fingers at liberals, liberals pointing fingers at conservatives, whites pointing fingers at non-whites, non-whites pointing fingers at whites, christians pointing fingers at muslims, muslims pointing fingers at christians, coffee drinkers pointing fingers at tea drinkers, red heads pointing fingers at brunettes, so on and so on.

Big-endians and little-endians everywhere I look.

All of these false dichotomies, just so we can point fingers and say "YOU! YOU'RE THE PROBLEM!"
It's everyone. It's all around. It's the lines themselves. It's the refusal to believe that there is space enough in the world for all the tastes and tunes of humanity. It's refusal to believe that it is okay for people to be different from oneself, and for oneself to be different from others.

I am less and less able to "tolerate" being here, being a(n unwilling) part of this big, sloppy, sad mass of chaos. And yet I feel, maybe, as though I am needed - because I understand, because I refuse to put up lines, because I practice compassion and kindness toward every living soul I meet at every chance I can to the very very best of my ability, every day. Because I love and relish and delight in the unbelievable and beautiful variegation of the human species, even when I don't agree with it.

What else can I do?
If being kind, compassionate, understanding, and open is what I can do - if stuffing down my personal opinions and tastes and beliefs and putting aside my ego to just be a nice person is what I can do to make a difference - then that's what I'm going to fucking do. If my kindness makes even a small mark in the day of one person, if I am never, ever acknowledged or thanked for it, I have done good.

If my kindness makes one person feel like they matter, like they are not pushed away or unwanted or that they don't belong or have value or are deserving, then I have fully served my purpose.

And there are so many who don't, who won't, who refuse to do this.
There are so many who would homogenize the entire world if they could, who would do away with biodiversity altogether. Who would suffocate difference with hate and fear and greed - who would be glad to make others feel unvalued. Who would have every human being in every corner of the globe as a carbon copy of every other human being.

But selfless kindness is one of the most incredible feelings.
I come face to face with this challenge daily. I face people whose opinions, beliefs, manners, actions, words, tastes I cannot stand. I come face to face with bitter, crotchety, grumpy, bigoted, angry people every day.
But it's an amazing thing what one simple, small act of sincere kindness, without expectation, without egoic attachment - something as simple as listening to someone with full attention and willingness to be open and learn, not dismissing or jumping to conclusions - can do.

I often wonder if we are losing this ability as we communicate more and more with phones and texts and symbols and screens. That we are losing our compassion-ability beyond sharing "#support-this-thing" "#pray-for-this-thing." That we are losing our ability to look into the eyes of another person and be fully present with them for that moment and understand the humanity in them, without letting our own ego, stereotypes, judgements, or preconceptions (as well as distractions) get in the way - to just fully listen and value their presence and the miracle that for a moment you're sharing it.

Now that I've completed this nonsensical emotionally-driven circle rant, I'll just exit with one of my favorites:

"Nature hath given man one tongue but two ears - so we may hear from others twice as much as we speak." - Epictetus