I couldn’t resist sharing this wonderful story.

I hope you enjoy it too!

…VoGE

Living under the water in a lily pond were a colony of water bugs. They were great friends and all lived happily together but, every so often, one of them would attach itself to a lily stalk and make its way up into the sunlight, never to be seen again.

One water bug in conversation with the others said he had noticed this and had often wondered why this happened and what was on the other side of the water and more importantly , why none of the others had returned to explain. All the bugs made a promise that if they were to go up a stalk they would come back and tell what they had seen.

Well, one day, the very bug who had made the suggestion found himself stuck on a stalk. He made his way up and through the water to the surface, breaking through he found himself on a huge lily pad. Things had changed dramatically - he was now breathing air and he’d gotten wings! Suddenly he took off in a flash , soaring through the air. It was glorious!

Just then he remembered his promise, “I must go back and tell the others” he thought. So with that in mind he flew down to the water’s surface, but much to his surprise he couldn’t get through to his friends below.

After several attempts he decided to abandon that idea hoping that all his friends would know he tried to keep his promise. He flew off into the sun knowing that they would all meet again, someday, when they were dragonflies too.

VoGE and Carla Thomas at the Overton Park Shell

Some things you can’t ignore

I don’t usually respond to hateful words, but I found a bigoted rant in my email that was so blunt and venomous that I decided to dissect the message in order to see what made the writer tick.

I found no surprises. The ravings of the author (printed in red, below) represent typical examples of the same type of prejudice that I grew up with in the south. That’s when I decided to respond to their message point by point, if only to settle the faint ghostly echoes from a southern past hiding away in my own subconscious.

I apologize in advance if I am too long winded in my responses, but truth needs a strong foundation if it is to have any lasting impact. That said, let us begin.

The rant starts off with the statement:
> I AM WHITE!

Well, I am not and, most likely, neither is the author. As Americans, most “whites” are a mixture of races that have been going to bed together for over 500 years, and that’s not counting all the European hanky-panky that went on before that.

> I have been wondering about why Whites are racists,
> and no other race is.

That’s not a true statement. Racial intolerance is at the root of many of the world’s biggest problems and its standard bearers come from many cultures and races. The key is that they are all TAUGHT to hate by their elders. Cultures, like children, learn by example.

> There are African Americans, Mexican Americans, Asian
> Americans, Arab Americans, etc. And then there are
> just Ameri- cans.

Actually, your parents and/or grandparents probably affiliated strongly with their country of origin, even if you don’t. They most likely lived in a part of town where others of their culture also resided, especially if they were immigrants.

The fact that you are rootless and a generation removed from any knowledge of your own traditions does not put you in a superior position. It just makes you ignorant.

As Dawn greets us with sunshine and gifts us with new opportunities, many find their hearts clouded with thoughts of impending rain. This is a time of great change, worldwide. Societies are in painful transition and, like mice scurrying around the feet of wandering buffalo, we must plan our own steps very carefully. For some, if not most, this will be season of sacrifice and change in ways that are beyond our present imagining.

For me, today began as an introspective day. Dawn found me prayerfully searching the horizon, watching and listening for signs. Nature always has a lesson if we only pay attention! The sky was overcast, so searching for a message in the sun was in vain… The insects sounded muted and distant. Even the grass seemed too timid to have dew.

Just about then, a sign came to me in the form of a tiny mosquito… I watched her as she hovered above my garlic scented skin for almost a minute, wavering and hesitating, then sat down resolutely and began to drink with a shudder as if to say, “Regardless of how it tastes, I have to do what I have to do.”

I agree. We all must do what we must do. Which is why I killed that mosquito, who died with honor like a warrior.

From small things sometimes come big messages.

Creator, Open Our Eyes That We May See

AHO!

Just Because

Just because my understanding may be different
from yours, do not assume I have NO understanding.

We just come from different experiences.

Just because my vision is different from yours,
do not assume I am blind.

We just see things differently.

Just because you disagree with my words,
do not assume you are the only “good person”
in the conversation.

That is called prejudice. The mother of hatred.

- VoGE 2002

I had a conversation with an old and dear friend the other day. His heart was troubled by the world he saw around him. His faith gave him a type of strength, but it also robbed him of hope. He had been sold “Heaven in the sky” and was convinced that everything about this world was evil and corrupt.

My heart ached for him as I realized how little he knew of Grandmother Earth and Her wonders.

A family man, honest and caring about others, he was haunted by the terrible visions that filled his eyes and his TV set… The cruel deeds of his fellow men… The harsh realities of a world unbalanced. As his words unfolded I saw creases of pain that had been etched into his heart by negative experiences.

I shared his concerns, but not his anxiety and depression, for in my view, this is supposed to be a place of transition and change… An opportunity to grow as spiritual beings! It is only thru heat that steel can become tempered and strong. This world is a spiritual proving ground filled with the seeds of both Hell and Heaven. It is for each of us to decide which will flourish and grow in our own heart.

I tried to convey to my friend the wondrous visions Grandmother Earth bestows on those who will simply look… The nurturing of Spring babies, winged, furred, scaled, and naked… The gathering of the rainbow across the land as bare branches burst into celebration… The awesome spectacle of Sunrise, bringing with it another day full of possibilities yet undiscovered… But, his mind was closed to these wonders and they brought him little joy. Like a man riding backwards on a horse, he saw only the rutted, crapped-on path behind him.

He clung to his holy book like a shield against all pain. But in the process he also blocked out Creator’s healing Light!

I left my friend knowing that I had not reached him. His faint parting smile told me he thought me some opto-mystic fool with my head in the clouds. As I contemplated all we had shared with each other, a prayer for us both echoed through my spirit…

“Creator, open our hearts that we may feel… The possibilities in every moment… The miraculous in the commonplace. Creator, open our eyes that we may see… Beyond our pain… Beyond our perspective… Beyond the horizon. And let us always be open to the blessings you bestow upon us EVERY step of the way!”

AHO!