In the Words of Cher

I like Cher. I don’t love her. Not in the all-encompassing life-long way I love Madonna, but in a friendly thanks-for-being-a-gay-icon-all-these-years and thanks for more good music than most of us realize she’s put out. Case in point is one of her latest, a wistful well-wish for a former paramour, the kind of love that sets someone else free, and in doing so sets yourself free. There’s no greater soul-service than genuinely wishing someone else happiness and love. Most of the times I’ve done so, I’m rather ashamed to say, have been fraught with ulterior motives. It’s so hard to be purely good, to do things with absolutely no self-preserving agenda somewhere in the background. Think of any good thing you’ve done and tell me there weren’t auxiliary benefits or joy for yourself as well. It’s pretty impossible. Yet I believe that’s the sign of grace and goodness.

I’m still working on it…

I hope I find it.

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