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Sometimes on occasion, when I hear a sad story about a child or think of myself as a kid, or when I'm hugging my dog, I'll have this strange moment of simplicity. Where something in me clicks and I realize that all anybody wants is to be understood.
Which scenario is more of a tragedy? Being a kid and knowing that all you need is to be understood, but you're unable to communicate that need? Or being an adult, still unable to communicate that need, feeling guilty about having that need and denying that it even exists, therefore passing on for generations a life of misunderstanding yourself and everyone around you?
Here's a more simple scenario. Why not recognize that basic need to be understood and strive to understand yourself? Then once all of that unnecessary confusion dissipates, you'll find that when you make an effort to understand yourself, the world appears to be a much more understanding place. [The best part is that you start to understand other people, even the ones who are more idiotic than you.] |
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