Saturday, August 13, 2011
To an anonymous bully
I'm guessing you have a good reason, though. Most likely a gaping hole in your heart. Some people paint pictures, some start families, some volunteer at hospitals. Some try to bring others down.
Maybe, like the Grinch, your heart is two sizes too small.
Maybe something else is two sizes too small.
Whatever the case, Mr. Bully, I'm onto you. You're a theater man, it seems, having constructed the sets, costumes, and storyline of your power. You surround yourself with eager spectators, the quiet supplicants, who suspend all disbelief. "This," they say, "is a Man with Power. This is an Important Man. This is a Man Who Can Squash Me with His Thumb."
But, you're just a man, Mr. Bully. With a lowercase m.
On the other side of the proscenium, after the curtain falls, you're of below average height and have normal-sized thumbs. I suppose you have money, to keep these theatrics going. But I've seen you perform, and I find it tiring. I'd like to meet you instead in the stark light of day, where vague threats have no power. Where the overhang of your wrath and doom has no currency. Where you see me for me, and I see you for you.
Are you scared? I'll bet you are. After all, behind every bully is a coward.
What are you afraid of, I wonder? That I'll someday have power over you? In case you haven't heard, power is nothing. It's nowhere, except in the imagination of the people you try to control.
You can't control me. So? Poof! Power is gone.
I, myself, recommend strength. Strength you can't fake. Strength you can't use to manipulate others. Strength is here. Strength is enduring.
Strength stands up against bullies.