It strikes me that we are all here in this life for a very short time in the scheme of things. I guess there are people we want to have with us as we walk the trail from the start to the finish and others we meet along the way who we speak to then leave. Still others we just take their hand to help them get over a rough spot or to get their help for the same. Lastly, there are so many that we pass with only a nod or nothing at all and leave them in the dust of their deeds and thoughts on their own journey. What makes the difference which causes us to take one fellow's hand forever and another's for only a while...or not at all? And why is it that sometimes we don't even know if we are alone or with friends until we have reached trail's end and we are not certain it matters any more? Do we choose the people who walk with us or do they choose us? Why is it that many times we meet someone who we would like to share the journey with – a friend, a lover, a partner, a brother, a sister, a mentor, a student – but they choose otherwise for no apparent reason and leave us in the dust of their deeds and thoughts?
In the end, whether we are old or young, fat or thin, average or spectacular, deformed or perfect, learned or uneducated, owners of material wealth or curators of heart’s treasures, great with words or mute, full of insight or blind, able to hear the whisper of the soul or deaf, able to run a marathon or only able to sit, we all bring something to that journey, to the trail. Would we reject the jack fruit as inedible because it sports a bumpy bright green skin and seek a more aesthetic meal? Would we pass by the Joshua tree in the desert because it is twisted by life’s travails and search a prettier tree to find shade by? If we had only the people who walk the trail with us to help us survive, would we really reject them because of the husks of skin they travel in? Yes – we do. Where we might save a dirty antique because we think it has monetary wealth, we turn away the hand of a deformed child because what could she possibly give us? Where we value the car that shines and vrooms and draws the eyes of our neighbors, we reject the love and support of a woman because she is scarred. Where we stand back in pride at our houses, our degrees, our neat wives and well-paid husbands, we hide our parents who brought us to this prideful moment and forget that once they wiped our spittle from our lips but now they just sit and drool alone. Where we admire our own bodies and hurry to make it better so as not to be judged for an ounce too much on our abs or our chins, we judge the same way and rebuff the friendship of a fat man because he falls short even in our own imperfect eyes.
And yes, I know what you might be thinking…this is the way things are, what can we do, we are a society – a universal civilization – that puts value on what we see rather than what we know. Our perceptions of things guide our receptions of things. If we perceive one woman as being fat instead of smart and good, we will select the thin one and not care if she is mean or selfish. We will pick the unflawed man over the one whose face is scarred because we perceive that the unflawed one is more handsome and assume that handsome equals better. We will offer care and education to the able child and pity the one who cannot walk, pushing them somewhere where we cannot see him so we can concentrate on the able child because we perceive that the able child can give back to us and society things we don’t perceive the disabled child being able to give. We will look to the young in our cultures as the trend setters because the old forget their own names and never mind that they raised the young we look up to, perceiving that anyone who cannot even remember her own name cannot possibly contribute anything of value even though her womb bore even us into this world.
But my friends, this cancer that grows among us, this acceptance of societal norms over acceptance of life as it springs forth, is not a force of nature over which we can only shrug, prepare our homes, and hope the worst doesn’t hit us. It is not a hurricane that we can only move inland to escape, it’s not a tsunami that we have to pray doesn’t reach our homes. It’s not a strike of lightning that we cannot predict falling victim to. It’s not a forest fire that we can run ahead of, hoping we are not consumed. It’s a pervasive, detrimental attitude that invades every aspect of our thoughts, our actions, our past, our present, our future.
One day our very existence may in some way depend on the advice and actions of a person we perceive as outside our reception. Are you willing to die because you cannot accept their skin color, their weight, their poverty, their deformities, their religion, their age? Are you willing to risk getting the same help from someone we perceive as better on the outside without a care to their insides? How much happiness, how much advice, how much perspective, and how much time have you lost because you already have rejected such a person’s hand as you journey?
We are creatures of judgment. We no sooner are born and we start complaining, screaming our confusion to the world. From that first moment we are judging our perceptions of reality for reception in reality. Our first steps on the journey of life are taken clutching the hands of any who can help us. When does it all change so that we start to be so selective and forget that we can learn something even from a murderer let alone a good-hearted fat man or a scarred wise woman or a deformed sweet child?
When your hand is rejected for its color, for its form, for its religion or its wealth, do you hide it in your pocket and fall behind in the trail dust? It’s easy to do. I want to every day. I have many times before only to again stride forward. Because I realize that to hide myself because no one perceives the inside me is just adding fuel to the fire, wind to the hurricane, charge to the lightning bolt. Life is compulsory. We have to live it. Who we live it with is optional. Perception is not always reality and reception mimics perception. What hands will you take on the walk of life?
In the end, whether we are old or young, fat or thin, average or spectacular, deformed or perfect, learned or uneducated, owners of material wealth or curators of heart’s treasures, great with words or mute, full of insight or blind, able to hear the whisper of the soul or deaf, able to run a marathon or only able to sit, we all bring something to that journey, to the trail. Would we reject the jack fruit as inedible because it sports a bumpy bright green skin and seek a more aesthetic meal? Would we pass by the Joshua tree in the desert because it is twisted by life’s travails and search a prettier tree to find shade by? If we had only the people who walk the trail with us to help us survive, would we really reject them because of the husks of skin they travel in? Yes – we do. Where we might save a dirty antique because we think it has monetary wealth, we turn away the hand of a deformed child because what could she possibly give us? Where we value the car that shines and vrooms and draws the eyes of our neighbors, we reject the love and support of a woman because she is scarred. Where we stand back in pride at our houses, our degrees, our neat wives and well-paid husbands, we hide our parents who brought us to this prideful moment and forget that once they wiped our spittle from our lips but now they just sit and drool alone. Where we admire our own bodies and hurry to make it better so as not to be judged for an ounce too much on our abs or our chins, we judge the same way and rebuff the friendship of a fat man because he falls short even in our own imperfect eyes.
And yes, I know what you might be thinking…this is the way things are, what can we do, we are a society – a universal civilization – that puts value on what we see rather than what we know. Our perceptions of things guide our receptions of things. If we perceive one woman as being fat instead of smart and good, we will select the thin one and not care if she is mean or selfish. We will pick the unflawed man over the one whose face is scarred because we perceive that the unflawed one is more handsome and assume that handsome equals better. We will offer care and education to the able child and pity the one who cannot walk, pushing them somewhere where we cannot see him so we can concentrate on the able child because we perceive that the able child can give back to us and society things we don’t perceive the disabled child being able to give. We will look to the young in our cultures as the trend setters because the old forget their own names and never mind that they raised the young we look up to, perceiving that anyone who cannot even remember her own name cannot possibly contribute anything of value even though her womb bore even us into this world.
But my friends, this cancer that grows among us, this acceptance of societal norms over acceptance of life as it springs forth, is not a force of nature over which we can only shrug, prepare our homes, and hope the worst doesn’t hit us. It is not a hurricane that we can only move inland to escape, it’s not a tsunami that we have to pray doesn’t reach our homes. It’s not a strike of lightning that we cannot predict falling victim to. It’s not a forest fire that we can run ahead of, hoping we are not consumed. It’s a pervasive, detrimental attitude that invades every aspect of our thoughts, our actions, our past, our present, our future.
One day our very existence may in some way depend on the advice and actions of a person we perceive as outside our reception. Are you willing to die because you cannot accept their skin color, their weight, their poverty, their deformities, their religion, their age? Are you willing to risk getting the same help from someone we perceive as better on the outside without a care to their insides? How much happiness, how much advice, how much perspective, and how much time have you lost because you already have rejected such a person’s hand as you journey?
We are creatures of judgment. We no sooner are born and we start complaining, screaming our confusion to the world. From that first moment we are judging our perceptions of reality for reception in reality. Our first steps on the journey of life are taken clutching the hands of any who can help us. When does it all change so that we start to be so selective and forget that we can learn something even from a murderer let alone a good-hearted fat man or a scarred wise woman or a deformed sweet child?
When your hand is rejected for its color, for its form, for its religion or its wealth, do you hide it in your pocket and fall behind in the trail dust? It’s easy to do. I want to every day. I have many times before only to again stride forward. Because I realize that to hide myself because no one perceives the inside me is just adding fuel to the fire, wind to the hurricane, charge to the lightning bolt. Life is compulsory. We have to live it. Who we live it with is optional. Perception is not always reality and reception mimics perception. What hands will you take on the walk of life?
No comments:
Post a Comment