I thought this was a strange picture when I took it earlier this year. It wasn't how the skies appeared to my eyes, and I hadn't put any sort of setting to the camera, but this is the image the camera caught. Our senses and experiences is how we form our reality, and who is to say who is correct? Was the camera correct or were my eyes? Were we both?
It has been that way for many people throughout the ages as people have tried to make sense of the powers that seem to keep the people at their mercy or is it that the powers that are, are at the mercy of the people? The problems seem to stem from having to have someone 'in charge'. This could be on many levels. We, as people, continuously trust others (not that trust is a bad quality, far from that, it is a needed quality), to take charge of almost every aspect of our lives. I, myself, have had to learn how to trust all over again. Yes, I might get hurt. Yet, I have decided that it is not in my best interest to hurt others.
Do I still trust my eyes? To their ability, with help, at times I do and don't. Do I trust my camera? At times I wonder if my tools are at fault or if it is a user or if there are happy mistakes I discover along the way.
So what is the point of anything that I am trying to communicate...right now.
I am finding that within myself, I wonder why I am going through the various experiences I am having, and realizing something crucial. Experiences are not necessarily universal. We pre-judge (prejudices) people all of the time for various reasons. We either believe what other people (including media) say or we just get brave enough to love people. Yes, brave.
Though I could personally feel a certain way about someone or some issue, it's not going to be true for all. The 'you all' phrase comes to mind, when I have listened to people blurt out their stereotypes, 'Don't they know where they are at; they need to speak the language.' The anger of a person that observes others who choose not to conform to a group was blazing.
I had a differing view. That person had no choice but to be as they were. Having traveled in very diverse places, I learned long ago, to respect the host nation and also the balance of just being myself. I was a walking taboo in many countries, a woman, divorced, traveling alone and was not trying to emulate the countries. I had enough to learn within myself. Trying to be someone who I am not is far from the type of person I want to be. If I ran into hostility, which I never recalled, but I could only walk in graciousness.
I had also thought about my great-grandparents, who could not speak a word of English. They survived by running a small Methodist parish in Northern Minnesota. They weren't persecuted because they didn't speak English. They had no desire to be anyone else. They were who they were, as it should be.
Often, we forget our own origins and place our expectations on others to simply conform. This world is a lot bigger than we are.
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