Why are hate, fear and anger an OK justification right now?

There is so much hate in the world at the moment: Trump talking of walls and bans for people of a certain religion, ISIS killing people in general, benefit cuts, MPs voting against taking refugees. It is a sad time. A time where the media can focus on all the hate in the world, in turn allowing people to believe that is all there is. But what about love. 

Love is the most important thing in the world. Not hate, fear or anger; at the end of the day none of that will matter. It will be merely a reason behind a bad decision, an excuse to act out without compassion for your fellow humans, it won't matter. It will be nothing. 

Why do you think we have prisons? Academically we could put that down to social conditioning, control, a decision of those in power and their desire to stay in power. But those crimes that prisons punish: murder, rape, burglary, assault. They are all based around hate, a split second disregard for that other persons feelings, that others persons individual feelings, emotion and right to safety and life. Now let's ask a question: why are there not more people in prison? Should we be arresting those responsible for cutting benefits, isn't that a disregard for a persons rights and emotions? What about those who speak out against relocating refugees: why do we have more rights than those people? Why do we have a right to be in this country more than them? They are the same being, they breathe, eat and poop. What about Trump? A few have said he is the anti-Christ, his views to not let Muslims into his country or Mexican immigrants, well that shows a disregard of their rights and a belief that his rights, and those of people like him, are more important. 

So now let's ask a question. When did this hate start? When did we start believing that hate, fear and anger were reasonable justifications for actions, and not feelings we should overcome? When was that OK? 

People say Trump is succeeding because he is speaking out, he is saying what other people couldn't because it wasn't politically correct. So this backlash might be saying that saying something is politically correct or not is not the best idea. So should we just trust that people love and have compassion for theirs fellow humans enough that they wouldn't ban people from entering a country because somebody else with a similar name or religion have done something bad? Apparently not. 

So let's take that to mean that hate, fear and anger existed before we classified things as politically correct or not. It existed in world war two, well it existed in one regime, one man Hitler functioned on hate, fear and anger; he blossomed under those conditions. We said that he was wrong. Classifying people by race was wrong, not protecting disabled people was wrong: so why is it ok now? 

What about Stalin? We say he was wrong too, we say genocide is wrong, we say Jack the Ripper was an evil man. But now we live in a world where we are sitting there and allowing people with the same motivations function in the acceptable side of society, 

It is not acceptable, it is not right to hate people. It is good to fear people or justify your actions because of it. Being angry doesn't make something right, it just makes us think irrationally. These emotions are natural, they happen, and there is no surprise they happening now. But then again maybe if we loved instead of hated, if we forgave instead of getting angry and we forgot instead of fearing then maybe the world could be full of love.

Maybe the world would look like a brighter place if we shared that love for other people. Maybe the world would be a stronger place if we loved every human being, hey every animal, as if they were our husband and wife, our sister or brother, our mother or farther. 

I am going to start sharing love. Simple love at the-love-channel.blogspot.com. I'd rather read about love right now, I hope you will agree. 

I love you. 

The people in our moments. The moments in our lives.

Life is made up of moments. Moments we laugh, cry, yawn, sleep and love. Moments we hate, envy, eat, pity and dream. Every moment of our life makes up the person we are at the end of it. When those lights finally go out you don’t know which memory will come to your mind. Will it be that boy you loved at the sweet age of 22? Will it be that child you so desperately wanted through years of IVF? Will it be that friend you had but lost contact with? Or will be a stranger: a nurse? A refugee you saw on the TV? A child you met on your travels? We don’t know, we will never know. That is the beauty of it.

Deaths and mourning bring out on reflection, not on only the life that has passed but our own. The life that we are still living. The moments that make it up.

I have been thinking about the people who make up those moments. I remember spending a night in a hostel in Manchester. I met a group of guys who were there to watch the match and they took pity on the girl there to do her dissertation research. I remember going to a bar, going clubbing and having a fantastic evening. But I don’t remember them and that makes me quite sad. For all the moments that made up that evening, it was them who made them. Total strangers who decided to extend a hand of kindness to a girl working away on a laptop in the common room on a Friday night. Yet my memory decided to put them out of my mind and replace them with people they deemed more important. What is more important than kindness? Maybe love.

I remember the few people that I have truly loved in my life. I remember the moments they made me smile, the moments of passion and the many, many moments I cried. I cried over the loss of them, the loss of making more of those moments and the loss of that time. But what about the people we only love for a moment. The people we kiss in a bar when we are 18 and it is the done thing to do. The people you dance with and swap numbers but never follow up. The people you spend a cold, lonely evening messaging on tinder but never meet up. For those moments they were the centre of our universe, so where are they now? What could they have been? Who could they have been?

Whenever anyone makes up a moment in our life, they enter the pool of candidates for the last person we remember. While I hope that will be the soul-mate sitting by my bedside, or the grandchild holding my hand, or my Mother who has always been there; it could be that boy I loved at 22? That child I held in my arms in Uganda? That person who taught me the true meaning of life without even sharing a name. We never know, so maybe no one should stay a stranger, or drift into becoming an acquaintance, what would the world be if everyone became a friend?