Do You Choose Innocence?

I wrote the following thought around 2011 and yet every time I stumble across it, I can apply it to my current life situation. I think we are continually tested in this way. I know I am. 

I have recently gone through some major life changes and have been doing a lot of self reflecting. I think, although I believe I remained the same at the core, I lost sight of choosing to see the good. I became depressed and jaded. 

I’m sure you can all relate to a time (or two) in your lives you felt the same. So I thought I’d share it with you as a gentle reminder…we all have this gift. 

 

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I was recently reminded that I have a gift. This gift is our human ability to choose innocence. Yes, choose.

 

When we are younger, we don’t choose our innocence, it is given to us, and as we grow, we cherish that gift as we feel our own innocence get bullied out of our subconscious by cynicism. However, we can utilize another, just as precious gift; choice.

We can choose cynicism or we can choose to be slightly naive by listening to the years of ever-growing wisdom while simply hoping for the best. This exercise is best and most difficulty practiced on our judgment of people. How depressing of a world we would create for ourselves if we automatically suspected that every new acquaintance was secretly out to rob us, use us, get us into bed, or hurt us. No, the majority of us like to believe that people, are basically good. I, am one of them.

I genuinely want to believe in the good of people and their ability to care, give and share, but lately, that belief has been getting “bullied”. My cynical side is creeping further up as more often than not, I am proven wrong; disappointed by fellow kind, the human race.

When did it become a social norm to steal from or use each other? When did we stop getting shocked at the act of infidelity in a relationship, on a job or within a marriage? Perhaps I held on to my innocence too long and missed the Saturday night special that said this behavior was “in”.

In a scramble to pick up the pieces of my rose-colored lenses, I begin to question their legitimacy. Either they allow me to see one pure of heart, giving them a chance to prove themselves genuinely good before all assumptions set in, or they cloud the inevitable truth; everyone looks out for number 1. But, (get ready for another cheesy line) as the storm passes and the culprit is forgiven, at least to an extent, my ability to believe in people is restored.

Although disappointment is periodically unavoidable, I am proud to say that I have once again exercised my gift of choice, and I choose the world that is slightly tinted rose colored: It’s a much more beautiful picture.

 

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