The Need for Gentleness

Lens flare light. Cross on peak of Hoher Goell.

The more he shouted, sending spittle flying with the outpouring of his halitosis breath, gritting his teeth for pause, all I heard and saw, was the rage and fear of man.

It’s the reason there’s so many of us, they think the antidote to fear is a f**k. It’s the reason we’re soiling the nest, they think consumerism makes us all heroes. It’s the reason we’re so angry, so fast to blame, so fast to accuse. It’s the reason we’re in denial, as ignorance is bliss. It’s the reason there’ll be no animals in the wild a thousand years from now.

I turned a raging fear into a mouse this week and all I said was: ‘you need to be gentle with me.’ We’ve forgotten the gentle child that lives within us all, the child that curls up in a ball when shouted at, and abused.

I’ll hear nothing if this continues, this shouting and abuse of my beautiful, gentle child within. You see you need to be gentle now, if not, we all just shrink away, only to be replaced with a raging sound.

From me, no one is listening. I’ve grown so tired of the bitter faces, the angry smiles, the insincerity of it all. My child cannot hear, through the defence of his shielding from the sound of this angry, consuming gone wild.

‘You need to be gentle or I won’t hear a sound.’

“Come on my son, knock him down, fight for the ball, fight to win! That’s the way!” The only wild animals, a thousand years from now, will be us.

‘You need to be gentle or I won’t hear a sound.’ א