The Need For Space
I see it now – our gentle side is hurt so runs and hides;
We want to live it openly but keep it safe inside;
In business we get trounced upon by jack-boots tromping by;
We venture out – we think it’s safe – then Wham! Life’s such a lie.Then people walk all over us, on us they wipe their feet;
We want to trust, to come right out, say ‘hi’ upon the street;
But other people fragile are, who also have been hurt,
So they hold back humanity, remain on hi-alert.When tough to us, we’re tough to them, if we can summon up,
The strength to meet their force with force, pretending we are tough;
But when we go back home again, see self within a mirror,
We hate ourselves, despair of life, but see a little clearer –That we are wimps – sold out again – have no integrity,
For we have used our tougher side, though gentle folk we be;
We long to trust, to dance and play, like firelight, smoke, and drums,
But when we do we get abused – at which we turn and run.For some of us our gentle side is most of what they see;
There’s not much left to live our lives if such we cannot be;
As gentle-men – we’re viewed as wimps in this society;
As women of the gentle type – tough road’s ahead indeed.So we bunch up, protect ourselves, shut all the others out;
There’s peace within our little group, and gentle is our route;
If you want in, that’s good, but here we live in happiness,
So gently walk, and softly speak, all harsher words resist.You say in life it’s ‘dog eat dog’, ‘it’s tough out on the streets’,
But wait a minute, dog’s not food a puppy likes to eat;
When dogs attack, their purpose is to choose an Alpha-male –
They pin the other to the ground – “Submit, for I prevail.”That’s how the leader of the pack is chosen, stays in charge;
For leadership is critical, and in the wilds it’s hard
To raise the young, protect the pack, and see that all get fed;
It’s rough and tumble, weak just die, by strength the rest are led.But look around, it’s not the dogs, who rule the earth today,
For we have learned to work things out cooperation’s way;
The interplay of many gifts lets each stretch out and run;
With limitations set aside, our social world is fun.There’s seven gifts, we have them all, we need them all to thrive;
We have enough for private life, while one or two are high;
As social life demands much more, we toss our excess in;
Together thus cooperate, when strengths are pooled, we win.The issue’s one of boundaries – your space, and mine, and his,
Sufficient space to live my life here in this world of biz;
For once I see my turf’s secure – a space where I can be,
It’s then I can cooperate and share my gifts with thee.But not within my turf, my friend, more in a buffer zone;
I cannot let you in my space, especially in my home;
If I don’t have that space to live and be completely me,
I cannot come outside and play gift-interchange with thee.Such space is psychological, for you can enter here;
Just keep your hands, opinions, thoughts, off things which I hold dear;
Once I’m assured you’ll not trespass my stated boundary,
You’re free to come and go at will, for then I will be free.navigation