Love The Fool

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I must learn to love the fool in me – the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries.                    –Theodore Isaac Rubin

 

Being a lady doesn’t mean being perfect. It’s an idea that one understands intellectually before psychologically. The idea is always laid down comfortably on our minds but takes much watering to grow roots that reach our heart. Marilyn Monroe once said that “imperfection is beauty.” Did she mean that we should strive for nothing greater than our imperfect selves? No. I think this quote by Rubin is what she meant. They meant to forgive yourself, and not just that. Love the fool.

How often have I judged myself for my foolery? How often have I cursed myself for losing so often, talking too much, feeling too much, losing control? I’ve lamented and rejoiced over my love; I’ve chastised myself for hurting others; I’ve disappointed myself in being hurt yet again when I thought I’d grown strong enough to not feel that anymore. I’ve sat in disbelief as I cried after having sworn I never would again.

But if we stop to think of those times, (in our times of laughter and tears) if we stop in the moment or after and just reflect, we learn something. We learn about ourselves. We learn about the world. We learn a little more about our human race. If we learn to study the fool, we learn to love the fool. The fool teaches us about ourselves… it is a friend who comes when you welcome it not and leaves just when you’ve begun to understand and smile or learn. It’ll be one or the other if you’re smart.

What would the world be without our foolish selves? No risks. No leaps of faith. No pain that’s strong enough to shape you and stay with you. No great love stories. They exist and they aren’t a product of the brain. Thankfully the fool always returns. Just when you think she’s gone for good she returns bearing gifts– sometimes in cute little packages that you carry off and sometimes in tremendous sacks that you must drag in order to move forward. But each are gifts in their own way.

When The Fool stops by for a visit invite her in for tea, not dinner. When she departs, contemplate her visit and smile. If not now, may it be further down the road. Sometimes now is just too soon. Yet it will come.

 

2 comments on “Love The Fool”

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