Personal concern

I must never imagine I’ve dealt with love

If I only feel ‘friendly’ towards the people around me.

This is woolly sympathy,

An illusion of friendship.

I put myself at ease.

I do nobody any harm.

I let everyone else get on with life.

Hold it!

If I am a perfect citizen,well off and safe under my glass dome,

with my very own atmosphere,

that is exactly how I became an accomplice

to that collective indifference

which strangles our society.

If I really want to love

I must give myself fully to a deep and true concern

-above all for those few people

closest to me,

those who are entrusted to my care,

those people who share the same roof with me,

who work with me each day,

who travel with me,

who romp and play and laugh with me.

This kind of concern is binding and drags me away

from my own small protected little world.

This concern is essential if I am not to shrivel up.

I must never postpone it,

not even if it disturbs my peace and tranquility.

Perhaps it does me good to be disturbed.

Perhaps it is good to be occupied

with acts of kindness to others,

and that this sometimes involves pain and sorrow.

And that some day

I may even have to carry the burden of anxiety

without being able to talk about it to other people.

Personal concern is the fruit of real love.

I may even cause to suffer,

But ultimately, it brings with it the best of all gifts.

It gives life.

It gives colour to my existence,

And even, at odd moments,

An immense feeling of profound gratitude

-a foretaste of an unknown paradise.