Not All Bad, Not All Good

[admrd]

Not All Bad, Not All Good
by Harry Corbi

I have to assume that even the most heinous person who ever lived (name a villain of your own choice) started out life as you and I did, as a babe of total innocence. If there were genetic flaws or residual karma to work out, I’m sure we were not conscious of such facts upon our entry here. Thus no matter how these vile people ended up or what atrocious acts they may have committed, were they not nonetheless children of God and a gift to us, at least at the start?

I am equally sure that the rest of us, not so illustrious in infamy, have our fair share of at least shadows in our background, things we’ve done that we would prefer to keep under wraps. Such being the case, can any of us be deemed altogether bad or good?

Many years ago I was with an artist friend who happens to be black, and when peacefully walking along the street in a neighboring community we were approached by a group of young toughs. They looked like college students but were quite obviously intoxicated, and they began to intimidate us with racial slurs.

My immediate response was to want to do them harm. My friend, more worldly and wise than I, aborted my would-be assault simply by placing his hand firmly on my shoulder and uttering a comment to me I will never forget. He simply said “Cool it.” My passion to fight (or even kill) evaporated in that moment and we meekly walked on, ignoring those rowdies’ inflammatory gibes.

Somehow, in that instant, my friend had made me see in myself the specter of my own prejudice against those who had expressed the same toward us, and my life was permanently altered. I learned that what we condemn in others may reflect something we don’t want to see in ourselves. I truly came to an experiential understanding of the Biblical admonishment, to “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”

I am sure those kids who accosted us were decent young men who in the moment of our encounter were merely acting out some folly of their upbringing, intensified by having consumed too much alcohol. But in the grip of my anger toward them, that passion had the upper hand until my friend’s hand stilled my outrage.

Now, many years later, even though I sometimes slip when any of my buttons are pushed and I start to flare off the deep end, I at least try to see in myself the shadowy villain lurking there that I otherwise would be fain to acknowledge, and ask God for forgiveness, all around.

Peace, both inner and outer, can only be obtained through some hard-won battles between good and its opposing polarity.