Perceived Insanity

Don't Hate

The man opened the envelope eagerly. His hands trembled. The contents of the letter were quite important. He sat in the largest of the many posh armchairs filling his living room, tapping his foot impatiently. He called his wife, who decided she could leave the dirty dishes unsupervised for a moment to join him. The sound of tearing paper filled the room. To the man, the whole scene had a sense of deja vu about it. The last time he had so excitedly anticipated the contents of a bright red envelope like the one he now held, he had learned what it meant to suffer for another person's choices. He desperately hoped this letter would be different.

The couple's eyes quickly scanned the document enclosed in the torn red paper. Their worried, tense expressions melted into those of utter joy. The greatest desire their hearts had ever shared had become a reality! How strange it was, thought the man, they had not wished for money or power, but for the heart of one very dear to their hearts to change. The woman embraced her husband happily and hurried off to examine a certain room in the house that had not been touched for years.

Over the course of an hour, the entire house began to find itself in a state of cleanliness resembling that of a palace. Floors were swept, furniture was dusted, the dishes were washed and put away, windows were cleaned, and everything was organized again and again. Every other minute, the letter would be fingered anxiously and the clock examined to ensure neither the couple's brains nor their clocks were broken. Their worry was unnecessary, however, for at exactly one o'clock p.m. the doorbell rang. Two cries of "I'll get it!" rang out, and two pairs of feet flew to the door. One invisible hand turned the knob and let its owner in the house.

The owner of the hand was a girl whose name was Nayona. She greeted her parents warmly and affectionately, happy to be reunited with them after so many years. She was more than willing to forgive them for abandoning her so many years ago, for they had missed her and had welcomed her back as if she had never left them. Yes, she had left them, for she had been the one to make the choice to leave them and the rest of the culture she had grown up in. Nayona was not quite ready to regret her decision to leave. On the contrary, she felt her decision to leave gave her insights few others had. She had experienced suffering, and learned from it. She wondered what she had learned. She was unsure what insights she had actually received from her experiences, except an uneasy feeling concerning several of the values and beliefs the culture she had recently chosen to be a part of was permeated with. Perhaps she had not learned as much as she thought. Or perhaps she had chosen to forget the valuable lessons which made her so uneasy. When one chooses to do something that goes against what one believes in, it often makes one uncomfortable. However, Nayona still refused to admit the contradiction between her values and her newly chosen lifestyle.

Nayona valued her family, but she valued truth more. She would not feel comfortable in a society that brainwashed its citizens in the name of enlightenment. She felt society did not address issues like selfishness, dishonesty, and other evils whose impact are not always as obvious but often just as significant as those of supposedly greater evils such as murder. Nayona knew how many people would detest her for saying so, but she believed all wrongs were equal. All were equally to be avoided, and all were simply wrong. An evil thought and evil deed had something in common: neither could be considered anything but the opposite of good.

Of course, Nayona did not think everyone who ever got angry should go to prison, nor did she think all murderers should go free. The consequences of a thought were vastly different from the consequences of an action. But the actions themselves stemmed from the same problem, a problem all humanity shared. Some called this problem selfishness, others called it a lack of knowledge. Neither of these problems were truly addressed by society. Selfishness, Nayona had been taught, was something to be avoided, when it benefited the individual. Lack of knowledge was to be avoided at all costs, unless the government decided its power and control would be threatened if certain facts were available to the general population.

And love was not ever discussed except regarding romantic relationships. Nayona's belief that love is something to be given freely and equally to every individual was certainly not shared by anyone else in her society. Love threatened the government. Love caused individuals to form communities. Not the loose, homogeneous communities of the current culture, but tightly knit communities full of people with little in common but their love for each other. Love caused people to stand together, united. A united people is much more challenging to control. More likely to unite against the government. A loving person is more likely to care for the outcasts, the poor, the needy. Those whom the government would punish for their nonconformity.

Her parents startled her out of her reverie with a kindhearted laugh and a less kindly reminder of the evils of dreaming. Those who had time to think had time to discover truths, and did not spend enough time working toward the achievement of the government's goals. The government was not evil, it simply lacked the truth, love, and sincerity Nayona felt was most important. She smiled quietly in response to her parents' words, knowing it would be fruitless to debate with them.

They showed her the bedroom she had occupied so many years ago, newly updated with everything a teen might dream of. All kinds of technology would allow Nayona to access whatever social media she would like. Social media approved of trends, of temporary worldly things. Surely social media would help her to adapt, her parents thought anxiously. Nayona gave the technology one scornful glance before setting her bag of useful things on the bed she now had occasion to call her own. Inside the bag lay her most treasured possessions: books, magazines, and empty notebooks. The empty notebooks were no longer quite as empty as she had found them; to put her soul on paper was one of her greatest joys. Her books had been thrown away in the garbage dump for their political references to times when right and wrong had been more clearly defined and the actions of many were criticized for their lack of morality. Now right and wrong could be defined by the individual, and no one should have need to feel uncomfortable about their own actions. Unless, of course, their actions threatened the safety of others or the lack of morals present in the society.

Nayona felt the society she had walked into was missing something worse than morals, however. Morals are laws to guide our souls in the ways of truth, and even more importantly, love. Without morals, we lose sight of what is good and what it means to show love to one another. Although Nayona's parents would argue she could not exist without love, the young teen understood the difference between that kind of love and the love that heals, the love upon which the world was woven and from which will one day be made new. She saw no love around her. Love is patient, kind, not envious; modest, not proud; does not dishonor others, is selfless, does not anger quickly, does not hold a grudge; truthful, protecting, hoping, persevering, and unending. The world glimmered with one or two of these every once in a while, but rarely could the whole definition be seen in action.

Without love, there is no hope. Nayona decided to create some hope in her corner of the world.