Imagine if we celebrated people
not for how beautiful they looked
but for how beatifully they lived.
Not for being the richest,
but for how they made life easier,
kinder
for the people around them.
Not for looking younger than their age,
but in growing the wiser for it.
Not for achieving the most,
but for walking through it all,
the real stuff,
and staying open.
Imagine if we got curious
about the fine print of someone's life -
Their dreams.
How they move through the world,
how they do a thing they love.
What calls their soul...
What if school taught us
not just how to break things down -
numbers, facts, theories, history -
but how to build connection?
How to be a good friend,
partner,
parent,
human.
How to stay connected
to our dreams.
To ourselves.
Imagine if we really saw
the tender hearts
we share this life with:
the partner offering
the best years of their life.
The child
with the wide, searching eyes.
The friend, or grandparent,
we keep meaning to call.
What if we saw them,
with the same care and reverence
we give to a job, a house,
a deadline,
a reputation?
What if we treated hearts
like heirloom china,
or a rare piece of art...
not something to fix after it breaks,
but something to protect
and handle gently
from the start?
Wouldn't it be a different kind of world
if we didn't turn away
from the sadness in a child's eyes
the silence of a friend,
the ache in our own chest?
If we understood,
really understood,
that hearts are sacred.
And something, much
much, much harder to replace
than anything else
in this world.
R.A. Falconer
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