There are people in the world who just have it. They just have it cold.
I saw a woman give speech once. She was rehearsing for a very important event. She cut lines in a black suit; beige shell revealed between the lapels of the jacket. Hair pulled back. Cheek bones were high, and there was a light dusting of makeup on her face. It pushed out those cheekbones, and softened her lips. She was nervous.
I knew she wasn't very sure of herself. But she was so tall, and so beautiful. I knew her pretty well, and knew she was a special person filled to bursting with potential. But she'd never staggered me. Saw her give that speech...and could hardly breathe.
She commanded me, in a way. Like politicians. Like preachers.
Some people can look at you, and make you see what you want to see in yourself. It's dangerous. Felt I was purer, and cleaner while she spoke to me. I mattered. Bent around in the reflection of her eyes I could see what God sees when she sees me. It's dangerous.
She has become a dangerous person. No respect for her gift.
Shutters, paces. Gets nervous. Is prone to embarrassment, and self-derision. Half the time convinced she is a monster; the other half, she's embarrassed and derided because she can never be taken seriously. She can stand like a monument, and speak to people in their own language. There is something about some people that infects us -- a compassion of spirit. She is meant for great things, and it is a grand injustice she does not see herself in that way.
There are many among us. I know a thousand. I used to be one. Maybe still am on some days. And I'm ashamed, because I've never respected it. I've abused, and lauded it equally. Seen it in others, and hated them for it. Perhaps I've hated it in myself. I worked to do it, to become that way -- some people are born with it, and it's that much stronger. These people are leaders. It is scary to see it firsthand; in a room, perhaps, with just that one other person. It is scary to see it, and understand the power in it. The powers of persuasion and compassion. It staggers me. I fall immediately in love.
That is the trick.
These people...who are they? They can make the world fall in love with them. They can walk into an auditorium, and voters swoon. They walk into courtrooms, and wrap juries around their fingers like limp flags around poles on windless days. They can build empires; they can destroy lovers and families. These people...these are who we have to fear, respect, and love if we are courageous.
This woman...that I saw...hates herself sometimes. She wants only to be a wonderful person. A good person. She wants to make progress. But she hates herself sometimes when, in the right light, with the right perspective, she can see that she has it cold; and then she knows the broken hearts she's left in her wake. Am I one of them? I would consider myself lucky to be counted among the hearts so broken.
'Did I do alright?' I can still hear her asking me that, voice quivering. She fidgeted, shifting her weight back and forth. Her hands wrapped around each other. I just looked at her . She has that way of asking a question, and letting her eyes keep the question out there between you. It keeps digging, and prying. In these people, I see hope. I see beauty. I could tell them anything. 'Did I do alright?' she asked. Just like that. And I got angry, because she was rubbing it in. I know. It takes one of us to see one of us sometimes. I know.
I knew she didn't respect it. She knew it was there, alright...but she didn't respect it. She has become a very dangerous person. She will do many great things; many great things will be undone.
'Did I do alright?' Yes. Yes you did.