As a kid, I wanted my heroes to be gods.
Flawless. Brilliant. Moral. Just.
But alas, they were not. They are not.
And after the fall of one, two, three of these "gods," I understood,
They are but mere mortals. As we all are.
Of course, like others, I was livid! Incensed! Betrayed! You were/are supposed to be a GOD! Better than me.
Better than me.
Ohhhh, now there's the hiccup. When we project that which we haven't owned in ourselves onto others, well, that ain't exactly kosher.
And when we see these "gods" fall, we must ask ourselves, who was it who put them on that pedestal?
Why did we put them up there?
What in ourselves are we looking for others to satisfy?
What is ready to be seen? Owned?
The fall of these "gods" may be exactly what we need for the hero in each of us to rise.