A kind of accident
At least in an intuitive way, we all understand that our individual struggles can be eased by love, but many have no view on the ambivalent character of love, on how it can become a magnetic field for sin. Love’s a playground where you can have a lot of fun or you can break your neck. It depends on your ability of being synchronized with your own limits.
Some say that love is pure. This idea makes me think of those who seem to have “failed” being as we are, the saints. Perhaps they had no intention to become who they’re known to be, but they were unadaptable, with no appetite for any crime.
We all go down and… we all go down on the same path, even if we’re not the same. Some have a smooth walk, some a troubled one, but we all have the same sense of uncertainty in our steps. No one’s a natural born saint. Some become, due to a limitless number of conflicts with their “environment”.
Being a saint is a kind of accident…
Photo: Feuillu, under Creative Commons license
Tagged as accident, love, saint + Categorized as una-alta