I remember starting out as someone who really wanted to bring about this… change. I wanted to save the world. I did not know what change or what saving the world meant to me or to anyone else. It didn’t take me long to face the world. When I faced the world though, it made me look inwards, and I saw the truth. It was all grandiose idealism. It was far too complex, the world, and I reckoned that the one way anyone could save it was if one chose to focus on the good, and so I did.
I took my time but I learned my ropes. It was then that I understood that I was no leader. I had never been one. I was far more suited to a different role. I wasn’t valiant and surely not brave, but I was patient. So, I took the role of the pillar, the support, the perspective. I looked to save those around me instead: people I could see, people I had met, people I had once known.
I would sit and converse with people, hear them out, and sometimes hope to point out their fallacies only to help them get closer to the truth, whatever it was for them. Often, it fuelled them further but I understood. They’d still reveal their exploits to me, and I’d listen, patiently.
I knew them well enough, and I knew they would go fight their wars regardless of what I or anyone else had to say. So, I’d let them go. As I’d see them off, before they rode into the horizon, I’d hand them a letter, and I’d ask them to open it when they’re well on their way.
I’d write,
When you’re done with your wars, I hope you win, and even if you lose, come home. Don’t you worry, you can count on me. I’ll tend to your wounds and offer you a pint. I’ll listen to you talk about your victories and your scars, and the sun will still shine the next day. As long as there was someone to listen, the sun always managed to shine, and the world was saved a smidge. So, when you’re done with your battles, come home, wounded and frail, and I’ll be there like I never left. You have my word.