It is easy to be love to the people we know,
Or to the people we think we know,
To the people we already love,
The ones who are like us,
Who share the same values, likes and dislikes.  
It is easy to empathize with and have compassion for
The people we already hold in our hearts.
Even when these loved ones disappoint us, they are our tribe,
And love and compassion is easy to find.

But what about the others,
The ones who don’t fit in with our cozy group,
The ones who aren’t in our tribe,
The ones who think differently, who look different, who don’t speak the same language.
Can we be love to the outcasts?
Can we have compassion for those who don’t fit into our notions of right and wrong.
Those whom we label as less than?
To be love to these requires me to look deep into the darkness of my shadow self
To see that we aren’t so different after all.

February, 2024