Losing My Soul

I have to admit something: I’m losing my soul to fear, like so many people are these days. Mine is second-hand fear- the kind that fearful people instill in others by hostile words and actions- but it is no less toxic. Just like second-hand cigarette smoke, it can eat away at you.

I’m losing my soul wondering how long before insane politicians and their hate-filled followers decide I’m inconvenient to them.

I’m losing my soul contemplating whether to flee the country or arm up for a fight that might never come.

I’m losing my soul questioning the value of free speech in the wake of so many people yelling “fire” in the proverbial theater.

And one day, if I were to wake up a soulless, seething mass of hate like millions of others, who can I really blame but myself?

I couldn’t stop the reactionaries from blowing smoke, but I didn’t have to inhale their hate second-hand and react to it like I’ve done.

And I speak in such glowing terms about how I want to enter the clergy and be above it all! No. Old habits die hard.

I once thought those who found solace from their bad habits in faith were tragic people. I still think that, even though I’m one of those people now.


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