Today is a holiday in my homeland to celebrate the birthday of this individual. Every year, he gives an official press conference looking back on the past year, and publicly greets from his residence balcony and gives a short speech to the people who visit him to wish him a happy birthday.
I listen very carefully to his words. I listen because we do not get to hear from him too often, but when he speaks, he consistently chooses and voices gentle but powerful words. They are words of appreciation for all the thoughts he receives from others, and of compassion for all of us and especially for those in need. They are words that get through and sink in so easily, I am naturally made to want to listen to him.
There is another man I cannot help but listen to. Just today, I found out that he had tweeted yet another highly alarming words, before his position as one of world’s leaders has become official, and from his private confines out to unspecified targets who can only wish someone would give birth to a tool that would interpret his utterances.
I listen very attentively to his words. I listen because we hear from him so often – perhaps too often – but whenever he speaks, he seems to haphazardly choose and voice only harsh and worrying words. They sound to me like words of threats against those he believes are his enemies or competition, and of intimidation to everyone he thinks he can take advantage of and especially those underprivileged. They are words that penetrate and stir up so aggressively, I am forced to have to listen to him.
So, maybe these two individuals are equally effective in getting me to listen to what they have to say.
And maybe their words are equally potent in making me think about what they really mean.
But maybe you can tell from my tone that they are not at all equal in the degree to which I agree and accept their words.
And maybe you can guess how I react to each of them when I listen to them speak… with smile or scorn.
Listening to their words, I am reminded to be conscientious of my words and how I wish them to be listened to – with fondness, not frowns, and most certainly not fear.
Tatting is like another form of communication to me… I choose and make the pieces with great care, hoping that they will be received with fondness when they finally take shape. How do you think I am doing?