I tell people that I the human race is inherently good, and they sneer at me and tell me to read the news.
I share my conviction that animals have souls, and they talk about the raccoon that ate their cat.
I tell them that I believe in God, and they recount a litany of ungodlike events that happen daily.
Yes, I am inherently optimistic about life in general. . .
Day-to-day I can be a total b***ch, but my universal perspective is one of absolute belief that the driving force around us is love.
How does that work, you ask?
How can you flip off that innocent old man who floats into your lane, yet believe that there is more love than hate in the world?
How can you double flip-off that mother in the minivan when she goes 25 mph in a 45 mph zone, yet flip the homeless guy a twenty?
How can you tell a marketer that “Donna Highfill doesn’t live here anymore” when you are she?
I don’t have good answers for those questions, but I can tell you why I believe in love.
I believe in love because . . .
I believe in love because I know that I would die for my children (and probably the rest of my family, but I can’t make any promises).
I know that I have felt deep compassion for people I don’t even know, including every woman Tom Cruise has ever married.
I know that when I look at a blanket of fog resting on a field in the morning I am moved to tears.
In the beauty of nature, in the laughter of my kids, in the eye contact between me and my husband, and in the magnificence of a bald-eagle spotted, I find my home. The place I belong. The hearth upon which I can curl up and sigh.
I find the beauty that is planted within each of us. I plug in and relax, and I don’t flip off one soul.
That’s why I believe in love.