.: fooled by flattery :.

We all like to hear good things said about ourselves. We all love to be caught up on the latest piece of positive gossip said about "yours truly". We love to love the people that love us. We often allow ourselves the simple pleasure of admiring those that are most sure to do the same in return. When was the last time you had to speak the truth about an enemy, no matter how hard it was to pay them that honest compliment? Yet we will give certain others the benefit of the doubt, assuming that their harsh words to us were really not harsh at all. I guess we just allow them to build up relational collateral through the shared journey, upon which either one of you can draw when the time demands such. There are a number of us who thrive on good words pointed in our direction. We depend upon the language of encouragement, and deal in the same currency with those around us as well. Our exchange of boundless respects and good wishes secure us a place among the well liked. Our acceptance costs us only a few extra kind words, so that we can go on making a name for ourselves. Rather than passing on words of grace, we say what we feel will reap what we so desire; recognition. Recognition for who we are. Recognition for what we do. Recognition for the one thing that apparently sets us apart. There is nothing wrong with blossoming in an encounter with admiration. But we must keep a level head in the face of our proclivity to use our nature or characteristics to edge ourselves above the rest. There is nothing that we have that has not been given to us. Who are you kidding, to say that you have created success by your own sweat and time? Your name is not your own. It was given to you when you were still a child. The role you play is one fashioned for you by community, environment, and circumstances. Sorry to say but your degrees and titles are all a smoke screen, one that you all too proudly crouch behind. You have learned to shelter your true self with rewards and abilities that supposedly put all others at some sort of disadvantage. A deep sadness should arrest our souls, knowing that for all these years we have simply been playing people to get them to say what we have longed to hear. But words far more important and central to our being are yet to be spoken, ones that will identify us as we truly are. Why then are we fulfilled with the glory of dying creatures as dying creatures ourselves? We walk a fine line between sustenance and snootiness. The praise of any given audience is a far too feeble shelter to call our home. So we continue on, receiving every declaration through a heart that knows from where it has come. Our past marks us as recipients of unending mercy, that which surrounds us beyond full view. Take what you are given, but know this. One day you will be told the summation of your life, your values and what you made of what you had. There will be no hiding then. So shouldn't we then teach ourselves to come out of hiding even now? Unfortunately, the ones who won't hear this are the very ones who need to hear it the most!