The Levelers

How do they become that way? Did life sour them early? Did their parents tear them down? Do they think they were appointed by the universe to the arbiter of mankind? Do they think all the pain they inflict with their criticisms is somehow good for you? Do they really think they’re helping you?

I’ve learned to shelter my ideas and dreams from certain people. Newborn ideas are fragile things, and these people take pleasure in picking them to pieces. Or they have ways to "better" these ideas until the idea is a creaking, belching, lumbering monster that you can’t bear to work on.

I call those people The Levelers. They live tiny, self-satisfied, self-righteous lives. They can’t learn anything beyond what they know, and if you try to teach them, they will ruthlessly tear you down with no guilt. You will be told that you disappoint them, that you embarrass them, and that you are a failure in all the important things. The Levelers will pull you down to their level if you let them. They’ll push you into darkness if they can get away with it. They can’t look at the sky because they're too busy pushing people’s faces in the dirt.

You can run from them, but their words haunt you. The rotten thing is that we want the approval of our parents, siblings, friends, co-workers, and lovers. We want them to cherish us. We want them to think we’re smart, funny, bright, and attractive. We don’t need their careless cruelty, their unthinking remarks, and their unearned superior attitude. Not ever.

Eventually, The Levelers will remake you or destroy you or … or you will find that your dreams and ideas have more strength than their words and actions. You’ll draw strength from being alone and being afraid. You might even hate your vicious critics at first, and anger will propel you on for a time, but then you’ll find the dream is enough. It’s a cold existence at times, but where you’re flying, the air is always cold and pure and you can see the stars and the unknown beyond.

When you set down on earth, resting your wings for a moment, you’ll see The Levelers for tiny creatures they are. You will probably feel contempt, but if your dreams have taken you far enough, you’ll pity them. You’ll pity them for their limited horizon, bounded forever by their spite and ignorance. You’ll pity them for choosing to live in a prison of their making. But pity isn't enough for you to choose the ground, no matter how much they need you.

The horizon will call, and then you will fly away.

I don’t know if you’ll look back. But I doubt it.