Have you ever watched an artist paint? The canvas is blank at the start…but, eventually, by deftly adding colors…it becomes a work of art.
The artist begins with a pallet of colors…each color in a separate lake…when that artist takes one color and adds it to another we marvel at the new color those colors make.
And we realize when the painting is completed…something the artist is quick to explain…how there is no way two pieces of art can ever be the same.
Even if the artist tried to recreate that same picture…even if the artist painted slow…when the painting is completed…subtle differences would show.
But that is as it should be…from that blank canvas on which the artist starts…every painting completed is meant to be an original work of art.
I imagine the creator who paints our sky would also be quick to explain this is the reason why no two sunrises or sunsets will ever be the same.
And certainly that’s true…if you’ve ever watched them from the start…each sunrise and each sunset is an original work of art.
I imagine, like the sunrise, each human the artist paints is a blend of colors from the start…each one of us with our own subtle differences…each one of us an original work of art.
I can’t imagine the artist when deciding what colors in humans to create…had any inclination one color would dominate.
But that is what has happened over the years…when we humans view each other certain colors cause a fuss…but that is not the artist’s fault…the blame here lies with us…
And will continue to lie with us…and continue to tear us apart
until we view each other as the artist has intended…
as a beautiful blend of colors…
as original works of art.
We hear this excuse quite a bit lately as we make our daily climb…
I have so much to do…so man responsibilities…I just don’t have the time.
I’m working hard for all the things I want…all the things I need
I don’t have time to exercise
to cook
to eat
I don’t have time to read.
I understand how busy we are in the world we’re trying to create
I only wish we were so busy…we didn’t have time to hate.
How wonderful would it be to hear words the world has never heard before:
I don’t have time for prejudices
I don’t have time for killing
I don’t have time for war.
because I’m too busy enjoying nature
spending time before each day ends
in the bosom of my family
or catching up with friends.
Imagine with me, if you will, a world we can create
where we’re much too busy spreading love
that we don’t have time to hate.
I was brought up believing in the American Dream…that every person in America…everybody…every soul…has the same opportunities to fulfill their hopes and wishes…to achieve their highest goals.
But for women and other Americans with a different color on their face…when it comes to the American Dream…this hasn’t always been the case.
There have been some Americans throughout our history who to other Americans have been more than just unkind…who have forgotten no-one created on this Earth should be enslaved, mistreated or left behind.
Which means the American Dream…the one instilled in us by our fathers and our mothers…
an never be called the American Dream even for some
if it’s been a nightmare for so many others.
When I think about my eyes…I am filled with adulation for like many of my body parts…they’re a marvel of creation.
Allowing me with just a turn of my head to see the world around me.
Opening my heart and mind to the beauty that surrounds me.
But when I look at you, however, I find there is a limit to what my eyes can see.
The same limitations, I imagine, your eyes have…when you look at me.
At the moment you and I meet…the instant we begin…I can see if you’re old or young, tall or short…I can see the color of our skin.
These things my eyes can see from up close or even from afar…but what my eyes are unable to see…is what makes you who you are.
What I see is the exterior, a semblance…a facade…I cannot see what religion you are…I can’t see if you even believe in God.
I can’t see what your parents were like, where you grew up, if you have enough food to eat.
I can’t see if you’re married, raising children by yourself, scraping by to make ends meet.
I cannot see the sexual preferences you were born with, if your brain work fast…or slow…I cannot see the experiences you’ve had in life or the gender you might be struggling to know.
My eyes can only see so much…because the last time that I checked…who you are is where all the things I can’t see intersect.
I wish there was a way to see how all these different part of you align…to view with a bit of clarity the way they intertwine.
If I did perhaps I’d be more accepting…perhaps I wouldn’t begrudge…perhaps if my eyes could see a little more…a little clearer…I’d be less likely to misjudge.
Perhaps this simple wish will, one day, come to be…until then I’ll try to remember there is so much more to you than what my eyes first see.
I was taught the commutative property of addition back when I still counted on my fingers and my thumbs…which stated: no matter how we group our addends…it doesn’t change the sum.
When I grew up I left the commutative property behind…
I didn’t think it had much worth…until I heard someone say the other day…
One People
One Love
One Earth.
We may not all look alike and we may pray under different steeples
But when all is said and done we are still
One Earth
One Love
One People.
I hope the next time we pray to whatever God we pray to…
as we look up and search the sky above…
we pray that we remember we are:
One Earth
One People
One Love
And as we look backward and forward at a world that because of us is misbegotten…
let us pray we can remember the math we have long ago forgotten.
Math we were taught when we still counted on our fingers and our thumbs…
that no matter how we group our addends…
it does not change the sum..
I just happened to grow up this way…it’s not something I was taught…
but when it comes to my food preferences…epicurean I am not.
Some people like to separate their food…they think that’s the way it taste great…
I approach this from a different angle…I mix everything on my plate.
I don’t know how to explain it but to me a meal isn’t splendid
until all the food groups set before me have come together and been blended.
I have a friend, he is a food critic, who thinks most meals I disgrace…
I only know when I mix everything together…I love the way it tastes.
I love the way the colors blend but what I truly savor
is how, with every bite, I get a different blended flavor.
Deborah says it’s like feeding a dog but I am not subdued
I mean…show me any dog out there who doesn’t love their food!
Again I can’t explain it but to me it’s easily comprehended
and I make no apologies for loving food that’s all been blended…
I don’t expect everyone in the world to eat their food this way
(that would be nothing short of rude)
but I do think it would be wonderful if everyone in the world
blended together…as easily as my food?
To anyone feeling the pain of injustice…
To anyone whom that injustice has eternally scarred….
Here’s a little reminder…of how wonderful
how extraordinary
how beautiful you are…
When dealing with people’s biases…
although it’s difficult…you would be wise….
to look at yourself…then look at them…
and see where the problem lies….
If there are people who are prejudice against you for any reason
Who look down on you…who condemn
know…there is nothing wrong with you
the problem lies with them…
If there are people who think that the person you know you are is wrong
who look down on you…who condemn
know…there is nothing wrong with you
the problem lies with them…
If there are those who do not understand a heart wrenching decision you have made
who look down on you…who condemn
know…there is nothing wrong with you
the problem lies with them…
If there are those who find something wrong with who you love
who look down on you…who condemn.
know…there is nothing wrong with you
the problem lies with them…
And though we cannot take away the pain you feel…
we cannot remove your scars…
know…there are far more of us who will celebrate with you
the person who you are.
Who love you…all of you…
love you…
and you…
and you…
Who know love….has no boundaries
no limits….
that only people do.
On my walk the other day once again in the early morn
I realized the shoes I’m wearing are the only shoes I’ve ever worn.
I’ve never walked in a Native American’s shoes…never felt the back of America’s hand
as the ones who came here after me threw me off my land.
I have never worn the shoes of an immigrant…never felt their sorrow or their strife
having to leave a country they love…to search for a better life.
I’ve never walked in a black person’s shoes…never worried in my daily nine to five…
never wondered as I started my day….if I would make it home alive.…
I have never walked in a woman’s shoes…I’ve never been downcast
at being paid less for doing the same job as a man…
I’ve never been sexually assaulted or harassed.
I’ve never walked in a poor person’s shoes
never braved the winter cold or summer heat
without a house to call my own…without enough food to eat.
I’ve never walked in a gay or lesbian’s shoes…never felt societies shove
just because they see me as different…just because of who I love.
I’ve never walked in a Muslim’s shoes…never thought I would see the day
people wanted me out of this country…just because of the way I pray.
I never walked in a policeman’s or a soldier’s shoes
Never felt their fear, their pain, their strife…
I’ve never had anyone shoot at me
never feared for my well being or life
Yes, my shoes have been quite comfortable…every shoe I’ve ever bought
but that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to the voices of the people whose shoes are not.
So I will use my vote…I will raise my voice
I will stand behind…or in a protest line
working and praying for the day everyone’s shoes
are as comfortable as mine.
Black…white…straight…gay…all those other letters too…
Christian…Muslim…Catholic…Atheist…and Jew.
Labels can be beneficial when we use them to help guild us
but they can also be a danger when we use them to divide us.
However there is one thing we all share no label can ever take away…
We were all created…all of us…to breathe in the same way.
Basically, from our first breath…from the moment of our birth
we become a part of the rhythm…of the heartbeat of the Earth.
And we keep right on breathing as one…with no need to classify
until the day our breathing stops…until the day we die.
In between our first and last breath…we keep breathing
It matters not if we’re black, white, straight or gay…
if we are Christians, Muslims or Catholics…
we all breathe…about 20,000 times a day.
And the reason we continue breathing in and out…the lesson I believe
is to teach us life only works its wonders when we give as much as we receive.
Perhaps instead of looking to divide ourselves…
we’d do better to throw all those labels away…
and remember how the simple act of breathing
unites us everyday.
There is a harmony in how we breathe together
Black, white, straight, Gay…Catholic, Muslim or Jew….
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there was that same harmony
In the way we lived together too?