The young man sat in a wheeled chair. His filthy clothes smelled of death, as he worked to keep his body upright. Sitting there, he had heard everything the Madman had said, and increasingly edged forward through the crowd that had formed. As the silence continued, he watched not sure if his voice would be welcomed. Hesitantly, almost in a whisper he spoke: “Mustapha, when I was but a child -it seems you were here. Even as we children would chide and ridicule you, you always had a smile, and a kind word. Even when we were rude, you were full of warmth and joy. I remember you always challenged us to sing rather than cry, play rather than complain, and run swiftly into our futures. And so we did, never looking to either side, always eager to face the new day -but then one day we were no longer children, no longer could we fill our days with fun, no longer could we be care free. As those days drained us of our joy, many found escape in others pain. I, particularly, learned to inflict it without mercy until one day I was trapped in an alley where no mercy could find me. There, another full of pain inflicted upon me what I had done to so many others. So, here I sit, unable to walk, unable to dance, unable to move from my seat of pain. What, as my future looks so dim, would you have me do? What, fair Mustapha, can I hope for in the future?” The sun had finally breached the clouds, shining brightly in the now blue sky. The edge of a rainbow just now forming toward the east caught his eye, as Mustapha began to speak: “Reclaim your dreams and you will reclaim your future. Tomorrow never comes to those trapped in yesterday. Tomorrow never comes for those mired in the reflections of mirrors that only look back. Today is forever a gift, as tomorrow is forever gone. It cannot be relived, regret only paves the paths to destruction. Painful distractions that continually destroy your today is the evil that refuses to allow you to move from the pit of your despair. If you would walk from your yesterday into your today, then you must leave the chair of your pain.” “But”, the young man began -“How can I leave this chair, my legs are spent, can’t you see that I am a cripple?” The rainbow had spread as the sun shown ever more brightly. Yet looking at it, Mustapha continued: “You were born a cripple. Your legs, arms- your entire body, mind, and spirit were trapped in the body of an infant. As time passed, you learned to control your body, mind and spirit and thus learned to use both your legs and arms. Now that you are older, and have been injured, have you forgotten how to control your mind, body and spirit. Sure your legs and arms are limp. But they have always been so, it is your mind and spirit that controls your movement. Even, were to be completely paralyzed yet you could soar -your spirit is not trapped to either your body or this earth. Your mind-the bridge between your spirit and your body, is forever in your control. When you lose control over your mind then truly you are trapped in your body. Would you leave your chair of pain?” “My chair of pain has been my prison, how might I be free? Death seems my only choice.” Death is not a choice, it is an escape. Death is the door that awaits us all. That door is not the one for you today, there is another door that stands before you. That door is the key to unlock the mysteries of your own dreams. Again, reclaim your dreams, reclaim your future. Have you lost the keys to unlock your dreams. Look deep within you, remember the joys of your youth. Each day full of possibilities. Nothing has changed but you. Your days, each day is full of possibilities. Grab onto these, let them rekindle the hope that brings life. Let go of the pain that only brings death. Then, my son you will again soar, and that body will cease to be trapped in your chair of pain but your vehicle into your future. Now my son, stand up and walk.” The sun filled the sky as the rainbow, now fully formed, pointed to another horizon. There we watched as dreams poured into the sky and more rainbows formed. It seemed that the sky was filled with the brilliance of these rainbows, as the young man began to sing, tears in his eyes, and walk into his new day. The Drum beats, some listen, all wonder if the sound is real. As the drum sounds, some hear, and all wonder if this is the year. As the time passes, and we listen, all wonder if we will make a difference. As the difference is sounded, we hear, and wonder if it’s time to be clear –Change demands that Change happens for life, nature, and reality abhors a vacuum. Come, listen to the beat of the Drum…
December 15, 2009
On Rainbows and Dreams – a Tale of the Madman 2 (By Rodney D. Coates)
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