Ostracism
Reflect, then, that the sting of exclusion often wounds only my pride, which bids me crave recognition. Ostracism, a silent hand that I grasp myself, is but the echo of a misguided attachment to what does not align with my inner resolve. For what virtue lies in yearning for bonds with those who neither honor my values nor wish to see me thrive? Such friendships weigh like stones on my spirit, false anchors to ideals we never truly shared.
Instead, I seek a circle that uplifts, in both kindness and principle, those who walk the path with genuine care for my growth and stability. To know a friend is to know they, too, cherish the same virtue, the same integrity, and find joy in my prosperity as if it were their own. Those who do not nourish this bond are but passersby, and releasing them is not loss, but wisdom.
Yet, I will not let this departure obscure the joy of what once was. What we shared—those good moments—belong always to memory and cannot be taken away. They are as embers that once warmed my heart and now rest, spent but undiminished, by time. So be it—I walk forward, unburdened, and let the good times remain as they were, in the past.
In the matter of being overlooked in others' lives, I am not alone. I stand among others who also received no call to celebration, and in their company lies a certain fellowship. To feel slighted is natural, but I choose to let that feeling give way to sympathy rather than resentment. For I, too, have forsaken others in my life, and there are those I could have included more, whose hands I might have taken on my journey. But I am not strong enough to uphold all those social obligations. This may be the same for him. Remembering this, I find myself part of a common humanity, humbled and ennobled alike by the same hand.
See, too, that the praise and recognition I seek are transient, scattered whims, and the absence of such does not diminish the worth I carry inherently. What others choose to overlook need not touch the soul that knows its own strength, nor shake the mind that values its own worth. I will be content with the silent company of those who, like me, walk paths uncelebrated by others. And I take solace in this thought: we all stand equal in our experiences of neglect, yet still capable of kindness toward one another, lifting each other where the world may not.
Instead, I seek a circle that uplifts, in both kindness and principle, those who walk the path with genuine care for my growth and stability. To know a friend is to know they, too, cherish the same virtue, the same integrity, and find joy in my prosperity as if it were their own. Those who do not nourish this bond are but passersby, and releasing them is not loss, but wisdom.
Yet, I will not let this departure obscure the joy of what once was. What we shared—those good moments—belong always to memory and cannot be taken away. They are as embers that once warmed my heart and now rest, spent but undiminished, by time. So be it—I walk forward, unburdened, and let the good times remain as they were, in the past.
In the matter of being overlooked in others' lives, I am not alone. I stand among others who also received no call to celebration, and in their company lies a certain fellowship. To feel slighted is natural, but I choose to let that feeling give way to sympathy rather than resentment. For I, too, have forsaken others in my life, and there are those I could have included more, whose hands I might have taken on my journey. But I am not strong enough to uphold all those social obligations. This may be the same for him. Remembering this, I find myself part of a common humanity, humbled and ennobled alike by the same hand.
See, too, that the praise and recognition I seek are transient, scattered whims, and the absence of such does not diminish the worth I carry inherently. What others choose to overlook need not touch the soul that knows its own strength, nor shake the mind that values its own worth. I will be content with the silent company of those who, like me, walk paths uncelebrated by others. And I take solace in this thought: we all stand equal in our experiences of neglect, yet still capable of kindness toward one another, lifting each other where the world may not.
Note: this was written with the aid of ChatGPT.
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