I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers. (Kahlil Gibran, mystic, poet, and artist 1883-1931)
I am aware of choice, a precious gift. When the beautiful appears I want to savor and celebrate it. Every moment can’t be mountain-top glorious. If it were, the wonderful would turn into take-it-for-granted.
In the past few weeks, life has given me many lessons. However, I am alluding to only two events. The first occurred one afternoon when I was unexpectedly confronted by someone who holds a long-term grudge against me. The second, far more pleasant, took place as I prepared a family party. The details of the first situation don’t need to be shared to be understood. Almost every living person faces folk on different wave lengths. This is the only point that matters: Do I allow someone rent-free space in my head or not?
When I think about scenario two, preparing to celebrate four family birthdays, however, I smile. Eight-year-old Kate painted assembly-line style, and told stories about what she drew: hearts, swirls, action. Enthusiasm for each person being honored flowed as she created. Five-year-old Rebe worked quickly with a few wild strokes across the page. She picked out which tablecloth we should use, and then played with Grandpa. Okay, so the afternoon wasn’t newsworthy. It highlighted the beauty of the gift of family. I treasured that, and didn’t waste the moment fussing about something I couldn’t control anyway.
The Cherokee legend of the Two Wolves explains choice well. The following story is taken directly from FIRST PEOPLE, THE LEGENDS: http://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/TwoWolves-Cherokee.html
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.
“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you—and inside every other person, too.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
I would like to say that I have completely forgotten about the person who harbors resentment against me. I haven’t. I am fortunate enough to have made very, very few enemies in my life. Strange, as I think about it, the great people of the world have fought many adversaries. Hmmn, looks like I may be meek, but I also don’t take many risks. Perhaps I am now in a position of opportunity, not threat. This place may present a new taste for the Good Wolf.
Whenever this person’s name comes into my mind I pray that she receives the same blessings I would want for myself. Then, all I feel is sadness for her and joy for me as the sun shines through the seven child-simple paintings hung along my back window. Seven is the ancient Hebrew symbol for wholeness, creation, good fortune. The Good Wolf symbolizes healthy spiritual choices in life. I think I’ll keep the girls’ art gallery on display a tad longer—as a reminder of greater possibilities.