It seems as though bad is all we hear. Bad is what the news shows us, bad is what people talk about, bad is what resonates with us and sends shivers down our spines and aches in our stomachs. Bad is something we have defined as humans. What we may think of as bad may not be what others see as bad. But what I am talking about here is the bad that stems from the people… because we are all people after all. The undeniable horror. People-caused-bad. I am undeniably an optimist and I often get questioned why I view the world the way I do: why I can take horrific situations and find the light in them? Well, as Leonard Cohen once said, “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” We can chose our reactions towards “unalterable fates” as I talked about in a previous blog. It is up to us to let our love flow despite despair, terror, tragedy, and heartbreak. But bad still happens regardless of how we look at things and the question is– why?
The truth is, I do not know why bad things happen. No one has an definitive or ultimate answer to this question.. and that is okay. I do not know why there are “bad” people in the world. Is there a such thing as bad people? I would like to think that we are all intrinsically good, and as I mentioned in my last blog, we all have love at our cores. But this explanation does not make sense. Why do terrorists, prejudice views, and racism exist if we are all meant to be good? Why have we had man-made disasters through mass murders and crime? These questions are not rhetorical; I really want answers, but I don’t think anyone really has an elusive answer. Fate and destiny have always been something I carry in my own heart; and for the most part I do believe everything happens for a reason, but what about the people-caused-bad? Where does this come into play? Why do people insist on smearing hatred and negativity on peoples’ visions of the world? Why do we take life from another? What I do know is that without these bad moments or bad people, we would be unable to value and cherish the good moments or good people. Everything would be one color and one dimension because we would have no form of comparison and nothing would have worth or value. Yet even with my optimism and empathy, I still find myself getting frustrated when I see the world fragmented and cannot make sense of it or craft it all back together. I always speak about how what happens to us creates us into who we are and how we are what we do, believe, experience, and feel. I know I am the way I am because of what life I have lived and I know there is more to come. So, if we are all intrinsically good, why do those that act with violence and hatred insist on burying their natural tendencies to love so deep that they lose contact with it?