Love one another. That simple truth carries more weight than a thousand opinions- powerful because it’s honest. I am not pretending to have answers. But I refuse to turn my heart to stone.
I’m not looking away.
I see what’s happening—everywhere, to so many.
And it horrifies me.
Not because I know what to do.
Not because I have the right words.
But because I still feel. And I think that matters.
In a world that rewards power and noise, compassion feels quiet. But I choose not to turn away. I choose to feel, to care, even when it hurts.
That doesn’t fix the world.
But maybe it keeps the world from breaking all the way.
Love and compassion
They’re not always rewarded. They require vulnerability. Slowness. Presence. They don’t dominate—they invite, they witness, they soften. And in times of crisis or overwhelm, people sometimes tuck those things away to survive. I read somewhere where a Gazan said,
“Desperation is a luxury we cannot afford.”
Love doesn’t conquer—it connects. It lives in small acts. In people who keep caring when it would be easier to look away.
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