I’ve seen the other side. And I don’t like it.
The problem with the other side is that it is the other side. It’s not my side. It doesn’t fit my view of how things should be. The other side grates against who I am and, tellingly, what I want everyone to be.
That would be fine — if everything on my side was perfect. Of course, it’s not.
But on my side, I can overlook the puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit the picture and I can gloss over the flaws I sometimes notice as simple mistakes and inadvertent blunders.
As I peer across the street from within my glass house . . . as I heft the rock that will shatter my neighbor’s world . . . as I wonder how those around me can be so misguided . . . I find myself believing that most other people have something wrong with them.
In moments like that, I am redeemed only by a glance in the mirror and the stark realization that I, with judgment on my heart and contempt on my lips, am far more disturbing than those whose ideals and behaviors I have come to detest.
For you see, I know that the only person I can absolutely change is me. And the steadfast refusal to move toward something better is a personal and spiritual defeat.