Gratitude

for a view apart

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Had I not stepped away

from the single story being told

in the place I was taught was mine

in the place where the original names were lost

where wetiko began to thrive

I’d never have come to know

the stories of a people who lived well.

Had I not ventured far from a place protected by unwarranted “rights”

inhabited by a people overly accustomed to unwarranted “comforts”

and drunk on the idea of “progress”

I would have never realized how much capacity I carried

for simple complexities and genuine growth.

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Though convenient, when I speak only in my mother tongue

my ability to express what it feels like to feel

…shrinks.

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The world is so vast and so heartbreakingly beautiful

and for this I am grateful.

The world has changed me

and whats done can’t now be undone.

There’s a sadness that comes from leaving home.

How I miss the pumpkin pie!

But in its place a grander view was offered

that fills in the gaps

and unties the knots,

tears down the walls

and retells fairytales the way they were meant to be told

where the ending’s not always “happily ever after”

the princess’ liberation is not dependent upon a mans kiss

and the monsters sometimes win

because often they are the only ones bold enough to remember

that we aren’t the center of this grand unfolding after all!

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We aren’t the only ones searching for home.

We’re only here because of everything that is.

Mother Ocean reminded me of this when first I walked about.

歌川国芳画　高祖御一代略図　佐州流刑角田波題目 painting by Utagawa Kuniyoshi

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Had I not journeyed across Her to China

to sit alongside the ones I was taught to fear,

had I not lived for a time in a small corner of El Caribe,

the only white man in a community of beautiful black fishermen

and tasted there what it’s like to be the minority

to be misunderstood

to depend entirely on the kindness of strangers

to need to learn how to speak again

than maybe I too would believe the fear now being fed my fellow countrymen.

Had I not learned how to dance with villagers in Pakistan,

to decipher the riddles of Persian poetry

to eat with my hands in India

to pray with jaguars in Mexico

to think beyond concepts with monks in Nepal

to weave my own fabric with the “uneducated” in Thailand

to grow my own food

weave my own clothes

save my own seed

and build my own home out of bamboo and mud

than possibly I too might have adopted modernities scarcity mindset

that tricks people into believing that all people are cruel

that “success” depends on an ivy league education,

proper certificates and fancy credentials,

having lots of money in the bank

and knowing how to, “network”.

Had I not committed to learning to see

from the vantage point of ants

than I might believe too that community was impossible,

that Ayn Rand was right.

Had I not committed to learning to hear

from the vantage point of thunder

than I might believe too that the end is near.

But because I chose instead to learn

from canyons, rivers and trees

to bow before wind and offer gifts to bees

I know now that it’s wiser to invest in Time,

children and seeds.

Because of aimless wandering I came to know

of many stories never told in school.

I know now what happened when the pilgrims arrived upon “my” shore.

It isn’t lost on me all they fear to tell us.

It explains why we are this way.

“Forgive them(us), for they(we) know not what they do.”

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I am grateful for all kind hearted beings

who over the years have invited me in;

I, the offspring of those who stole their land;

me, the son of an empire who can speak no language other than their own.

I am grateful for the view I carry now

bestowed on me by a generosity undeserved

that won’t allow me to unsee all that I have seen

nor forget what it feels like to be seen.

I won’t be silent now when men who look like me,

jealous of women’s shine

and the gorgeousness of people of culture

try and snuff out the Flame of Life.

I am grateful for all the colors

and I commit to honoring that which the treaties never would.

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This view I carry now,

a view apart,

earned from unlearning,

has taught me to love my neighbor as myself

to make beauty from the breakdown

and always give thanks.

painting by Joseph Robert Merritt.

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We are fortunate ones.

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• “christian man” drawing by Joseph Robert Merritt

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#mayallbeingsbehappyandfree