A Chilling Effect, Part II

Found on the internet

I suppose it doesn't work this way for everyone, but critique, sarcasm, cynicism and even argument create a chilling effect on my soul. Why I happen to have been born with such tender sensibilities, I don't know. Perhaps there was some "mortal wound" to my psyche in my childhood, although I can't pinpoint anything. I suspect that I am not alone in this, as I've discovered I'm not alone in much of anything in the world. The truth is, my hope and joy in life can be easily chilled.

It happens if I get up in the morning and one of the first things I hear is someone grumping or pointing out problems. It happens when I go to work and someone else is in a mood to argue or counter everything I might say, regardless of how unimportant it might be. It happens when my soul is reveling in something it has found beautiful, and someone nearby points out the flaws. 

The truth is, I know the world is flawed. I know there are sixty-hundred ways of looking at something, not all of which are mine and not all of which are starry-eyed. I know that there are plenty of things in the world that are ugly, untruthful, flawed, vicious, and horrible. I know that not every scientist, author and artist is logical, solidly-founded or supremely talented.

But often there are moments of beauty, deep understanding, and meaning in things that are flawed, and I want to find those moments and meanings. I want to walk into my day with hope. I want people to recognize value in one another, in one another's thoughts and expressions. I want them to recognize that in me. And when they don't see it in others, I expect them to also devalue my thoughts, my contributions, my well-intentioned albeit flawed efforts.

I know it sounds silly for an academic to say this, but here goes:  If you can sit in a group of people, or in a virtual group of people online, and fling off a sharp comment or criticism about someone and/or what they produce as their offering to the world, you have just sapped the love. You have shown yourself unable to see the beauty in what they do, and by extension you have warned me that you will do the same to me. That is its own kind of violence. It kills my wish to speak up, to create, to share a thought that I find meaningful. And the world might miss something beautiful as a result.

That's what it means to have a chilling effect.  

Perhaps some soul-searching would be in order as we replay our comments, our arguments, our critiques through the ears and hearts of others. It's not a mortal sin to seek the beauty in those around us, and let the moment of critique pass by, unremarked upon.