Each day I search for them - these titanic people, my dearest hidden friends. I look for them during magical, self-made pilgrimages in new places thousands of miles away from home. My searching is not exclusive to such places, far and beyond. I look for the titans among us in my own town, in my own region. I will look for them for as long as I breathe, wherever I breathe. And, in the eras between meeting a titanic person, I slog on - as if to crawl through an angry landscape thronged with spires of broken glass and jagged slivers of filthy metal. And, despite the terror of such vacant eras filled with profound loneliness, I do - in fact - meet a titan on occasion. I am incredibly lucky to have some as my friends; they are people made of diamonds.
These titans - they walk as we do. They bleed as we do. They laugh and cry as we do. They love as we do. They even struggle as we do - for no person can be a titan without being vulnerable. Unabashedly displayed scars are their armor, each blemish a jewel, each mistake a sturdy platform on which to build. Titans wield blades of truth with immense heart and courage and those who wish to perpetuate the facade that this world is a paradise made for liars are helpless to avoid the acuity of their sharpened edges. Even the most powerful of liars eventually buckle under these harbingers of truth. But, make no mistake, even titans contain some deceit. After all, they would not know the anatomy of a liar if an untruth had never fallen from their own lips.
The titans among us walk quietly and deliberately through crowds, often unseen and often unsung. But I see them with clear eyes and an open heart. I sing their anthems, too, for they are my own; I sing them loud because my life depends on it. I can feel the truth radiate off of the titans among us. If only their knowledge could better seep into those who need to open their eyes, those who arrest themselves with ignorance. It would not be a lie if I told you how I cry for the ignorant - as much as I do for myself, I suppose, in light of all that I still do not know. I have several powerful shortcomings and when they rise up, threatening to lead me astray from a plight more righteous, I look to a titan for guidance - and often bemoan their absence.
I realize now that I desperately need more titans in my life, that those who call themselves "unicorns" and "aliens" are no longer steadfast or brave enough. And, while people of this ilk hold their own, they do not have the heart of a titan, they do not possess the courage to go the distance, and - gravely so - they balk at loving with appropriate high-caliber sacrifices. With all I can muster I do appreciate how aliens and unicorns can think differently. They do, in fact, possess this talent, but it is usually squandered when an occasion for their sacrifice arises. More often than not, they take the easy path, they abandon their different thinking and return to their desires and their mania.
There are some people who would argue with great vehemence, opposing my talk of appropriate sacrifice. Some will say I spend too much of myself in service of others - sometimes, they'd be right. Others will argue further, saying their wants must be indulged, that they will sacrifice only if these desires are met first. In my mind, however, this belies the definition of sacrifice. I believe this course of yielding abundance first before sacrifice shows little to no courage at all, for how can one show true courage unless their actions stem from deficit? It isn't very brave to sacrifice from a position of abundance. These lost unicorns and aliens will continue to argue, making the claim that selfishness is a virtue . . . yet, the result will be authentic, genuine love slipping through their fingers. They will miss chance after chance after chance to embrace true love, for they will spend too much time embracing themselves.
Self-love is only a virtue if it provides compassion to others, not if it is a force that causes unnecessary suffering. This statement . . . isn't really that profound, nor is it novel. It's actually quite a simple and ancient notion . . . and anyone with an ounce of courage knows its worth, especially when heartfelt action arises from it.
Yes, there are titans among us. They put themselves in harm's way in the name of genuine love. They gladly exhibit their scars. They breathe humility back into the world. And because of their mistakes, titans know the difference between right and wrong, morality is issued from their lips with each breath. Each puff of air from a titan's lungs is a soldier, a sentinel who guards against trespasses and exposes the unjust with the simple act of telling the truth.
Not once in my life have I met true titan who did not possess this docket of courage. And, if you think yourself a person of this high caliber, I implore you to look down and within. If no pool of warm blood continually rests at your feet or soaks your clothes from the perpetual sacrifice, then you are no titan of mine.
You know who you are.
Not once in my life have I met true titan who did not possess this docket of courage. And, if you think yourself a person of this high caliber, I implore you to look down and within. If no pool of warm blood continually rests at your feet or soaks your clothes from the perpetual sacrifice, then you are no titan of mine.
You know who you are.
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