You seem to be saying, dear

You seem to be saying, dear God, that fear does not have to be conquered first before we can risk making our hitherto hidden agendas visible, before we can stop pussyfooting and beating about the bush, before we can love ourselves enough to meet one another without masks and pretenses and without the need to silence anyone. Nothing we cannot dare saying, nothing we cannot stand hearing. Oh, this must be the lovliest and most reassuring words I ever heard You speak, singing of the oldest and most cherished dream I have, the dream of boundlessly open encounter.

I realize I have been waiting for You to say this. You did. Hugs.

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