[Arid]

in my own experience, all that came before, my pride and sense of righteous rudeness disappeared. I sat on this cliff looking out at just wilderness, all around. Rocks and trees older than me and bound to outlive me. I saw myself for what I am, and I drew the line at concluding who I was. I can't reach into someone's mind and rationalize their attitude. I can only observe and ask what their intolerance has to teach me. Self centered to the point that I don't judge anyone for anything they aren't doing right in front of me. I sought to master my own urges and complaints. I looked for my better self. I haven't completed the journey, but I'm forced to recognize how far I've come from who I was. These boards, there's every type of human somewhere on them. Tolerance isn't meekness, it's refusing to set yourself in opposition to anyone.

I like this poem. And I like the conversation it inspired.