Peregrination

There are only two types of people in the world – those who need help, and those who help – takers and givers. Generally, takers prefer to take, givers prefer to give. Balance eludes many, perhaps even most. You may still seek the good in them, instead of dismissing them offhandedly. I have few friends, even fewer who offer me anything other than the presence of their living, breathing selves. Principled by cosmic precept, rather than by any dogma or order prescribed by the merely mortal, tolerance yet demands I defer at times to those harbouring beliefs contrary to my own. In being reliably erratic, though, while unfalteringly persevering, they keep me on my toes. Maybe, deep within them, there are profound surprises aching to burst forth. Maybe I will be fortunate enough to witness their unfolding. Maybe not. It does not matter to me. I give, because I am a giver. What they do, or fail to do, is not my concern. Destiny may not be coerced, cajoled, or counted on. If destined to traverse a path on this Earth with another, for any length of time, I owe it to both of us to be the most that I can be with every encounter.