You think you are better than me.
Of course, you are not.
But that does not make me better than you, either.
We are one.
That must make you uncomfortable.
It certainly makes me squirm.
Amazingly, that oneness doesn’t make us the same, either.
The mystery is that we are both uniquely a part
Of the universal One.
Like the left hand and the right,
Like the ear and the eye,
Our difference is a gift to the whole.
Indeed, it is that difference that makes it whole.
Until I put away my need to be complete on my own,
I will always be incomplete.
(Why is that always such a surprise?)
[image modified from a photo by Luc Blain per cc 2.0]
[I send apologies to my English teacher friends, lest you think you are better than I (am). Of course, as friends, you would never think that. I just needed to follow the voice of the small child who still runs around on the playground in my head.]