I think the reason why progress is not made more within ourselves and in the world is perhaps because we shy away from those who know their voice. Think about the people you have never met but the ones you have heard before that may seem too loud. Like you are walking down the street in your neigborhood and you hear someone laugh too loudly. Like that laugh cuts through a crowd. Notice though that usually you feel self-conscious for them. They remain perfectly secure. Why?  It makes us uncomfortable. But loudness is not just volume, I think it's the sense of certainty in which we hear or feel a message or a problem or a perspective. And the more certain a message is, the more pure the volume, the more insecure our own voice feels-because let's be honest- the greatest work against a progressive world is through the eyes of doubt. 

If you think about situations you have found yourselves in, you have met a certain voice maybe two minutes ago, three minutes, a few days ago. And I think we fail to realize what a gift that is. Uncomfortable circumstances are needed to spread passion and value and knowledge about humanity and culture. Remember it's only creating doubt within you because keeping quiet is undoubtedly less risky but also stagnant and too safe. And yes, there is something as being too safe, too scared to share. Too scared to ask. Look around, though. Because the person beside you might have already found their voice. And they are trying to tell you something. 

We were seated around the dinner table last night. Obviously, many cultures represented and a priest who was invited to gather round the table to get to know more about the couple before an August wedding. And what I continue to replay in my mind was the vulnerability that existed around that table spreading the most heavy draft of whimsy around and around in a circle sometimes with direction sometimes without direction. And I replay it in my mind even now because it wasn't a delicate or a subtle feeling but the strongest rush of passion and love I have felt perhaps even ever. Because as someone who is passionate about certain issues, I think about them and talk to those close to me, but I never am brave enough to actually unleash the vulnerability myself.

And here we were, in a space with an individual with a very particular religion and obvious viewpoints and a question was asked. A question about immigration and policy. It was almost like the laugh that cuts through the silence and creates discomfort but also this feeling of "What is it that he/she is laughing about?" It draws you in. And questions do that. And good questions do more. Good questions forget risk and create a wheel that begins to turn amongst all the members of the table. It challenges assertions and creates a thought so pure that everyone is thinking about it and internalizing it and slowly as thoughts begin to open up that zipper of vulnerability that was once slightly open is now completely flapping in the wind. 

And I think the purest form of whimsy is one that is not easily answered. Because where there is true challenge, those questions we never ask, there are never easy solutions. And it's obvious when a voice of passion is asserted, the strength in the question presenting that strong voice of doubt but serious quest is sometimes met with uncertainty and stumbling of words and a whimsy that is not yet fully developed. We don't practice answering those questions enough. And it becomes quite obvious when an individual has ignored such questions. Because where there is great love, and a fight for what is right, there is also great uncertainty. Social justice and global citizenship and questions that present this notion of "Are we really doing enough?" are what propel the world forwards. If you aren't shifting uncomfortably in your seat, then you have not felt real love. If you have not felt your heart beating quickly when answering a question you have studied and researched and thrown yourself into for so long, or a prickling of the skin when an opposite party answers without that same passion. Well-you haven't felt love. 

I always ask myself why is it that when I talk about what I'm passionate about, I begin to quite literally sweat. And I was sweating last night. Not out of nerves just out of this bubbling spirit. My soul was like "Yes. Someone finally asked this." Almost like a bottle that has been shaken numerous times and just now you open the tab and it all comes fizzing out. It's like a biological fizz. Hard to put into words. 

Seek to find the people who want to ask those difficult questions. Think about it. You know one. Or maybe two. And relish in the fact that with every question, you are seeking to find pure love. The kind that makes you shift in your seat. The kind that creates silence and uncertainty. The kind that grows like a rose from the asphalt. And when you have felt one of those conversations, recognize that you have found love. And whimsy. Authentic purpose.