Monday, September 3, 2012
Hairless humans leave their evidence everywhere; roadways, litter, airplanes, screaming quad bikes, campfire rings, and more.
Yes, we know they exist. We also lump them into a group we are suspiciously nervous being near. Our elders teach us many things and we confirm it through observation and one of those is that humans are not part of our group and therefore have no commitment to our safety or the sacredness of our clan. We were raised on cautions and stories, training and defensiveness in order to survive in a world riddled with those who do not have our best interests at heart.
That being said, there are some things about hairless humans that fascinate us. We notice their laughter in the campsites, we see how they can catch and cook fish, and we watch them often bend over and pick up trash as they hike through our trails. They are a source of curiosity and especially with their ability to own so much sustenance, to grow crops, to care for pets, and to build domiciles to hide from the rain.
Just when I think there is no spirituality in these beings, they sit and meditate and sketch a sunset, stop and pick flowers and hold them their noses, and coax a squirrel with a bit of food and smile when it takes it.
It is entirely possible that my generation may come to an understanding with the hairless ones, but it will take a great deal of compromise on both our parts to find a common ground. I would like to see that for my children. Ideally, we could maintain our lives in this manner that has suited us for thousands of generations, but at the same time learn to trust and extend a hand in times of difficulty.
I may not be a statesmen among my clan, but I am an elder. I move forward with this goal in mind in everything I do. This planet is plenty big enough for all kinds of people; loud and quiet, smart and creative, loving and stingy, hairy and hairless.