No one is going to want to hear this but I wrote it anyway, being who I am, who I’ve always been and who I most likely will continue to be . . .
If it’s not the whole truth it’s a lie.
We teach the touching story of the
Pilgrims asking for assistance from
the Native Americans (native as in,
those who were there first) and years
later, gloss over the greed (I want
what you have and I’ll kill you to take
it), the plundering, the dispossession,
the trail of tears, the horrible, unimaginable
years. The beautiful friendship, the giving of
thanks for the bountiful gifts received,
bloodied and sullied and desecrated.
In the beginning was the word, and the word
was good, and the people were thankful and
there was peace among men (women have
always found ways to get along). What monstrous
need causes the crumbling of compassion, so that
humans are less than insects and can be so easily,
so recklessly, annihilated?
All this blood-letting, and we have learned nothing.
We dine pleasantly with our own, and destroy the
others who displease us. “God’s will” was never
decimation. God’s Will is Love, as far as I can see it,
and we still don’t understand. The pearl of great price
can never be bought or stolen. It is formed in the
cultivated soul, where nothing and no one can ever
harm it. Our greatest joy and responsibility to this
planet is to be brave enough, willing enough, tender
enough to choose kindness.