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The brave pansy


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Eugene66
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« on: June 15, 2009, 04:57:17 am »

Once upon a time.

There was a field of pansies growing together. They were happy and settled in their pansy ways. A whole community.

Then one day one of the younger pansies had a desire. "What is it like to be a rose?" His parents were very concerned for him and they tried to talk sense into him. "Look son. We are pansies. Limited by our nature. We don't grow beyond the carpet of growth. We know where our limitations are and we are happy. Just look at your mother and me, your sisters and your brothers. Ok the evil wind comes from time to time and we are sorry for those brothers and sisters who didn't survive and yet we also know that they died to prove to us that we are not meant to stick our heads out of the crowd."

"But dad they wilted. Maybe they didn't want to live anymore down here on the carpet floor. Maybe they didn't know that they can be more if they just choose to be so." With that the pansy stood more erect and stuck his head a bit higher from the rest of the pansies.

Looking out more he saw other pansies over the field also with their heads slightly higher than the rest. They just confirmed to him that there must be more to life than hiding from the wind. The winds came and he realized that the wind has an energy, a feeling of aliveness. He danced in it and took joy in it and the more he tried to tell his community about the virtues of the wind the more they feared his weird ways. Some even said he was downright evil.

This made him feel very alone. But nonetheless, his newfound love for the wind gave him a reason for life and the loneliness was a small price to pay for that. For most other parts he had a common life like all pansies. He had affinities with his own kind and because of his height and because of the wind he found he took joy in all kinds of pollen that the wind brings to him. He was also able to spread his pollen over wider areas sharing with more than he ever did before.

With his wider view he realized that he does not discriminate against weird pollen anymore He found that there is a kind of a wisdom in the wind thatís much broader than the God that he was taught to believe in and that all pollen that comes his way has some contribution to make to his life. He learnt that his own pollen will fall where it does and some will reject it while others will praise it and feel blessed. He made his peace with that.

"Son" his father once said to him. "We are not supposed to mix with all pollen. Trust in the lord Bee thy God. He has mastered the unknown evil wind and uses it for his flight. He will bring you the pollen that you need. Son it is not ours to play in things we know nothing of. You think you can capitalise on the wind and drop your pollen when you choose to so it goes on the wind to those far off. It is absurd. You are a pansy for heavens sake, limited to your nature. Stay down here and let the wise bee decide for you."

Then one day he became tired of all this humdrum. Tired of trying to be like everyone else and just fitting in. The humdrum of petty arguments and dramas that the other bored pansies engaged in was just not worth the effort for him. He knew that there was so much more to live for and finally he gave up trying to please everyone around him while striving to be as high as he could be.


He grew and grew and reached the limits of his growth. He stood far above the crowd now. He loved them all even though most of them hated him for disrupting their way of life. He understood that from where they were they will never see the way he does so he forgave them their ignorance and their fears and continued to dream the dream of a rose.

Then one day a dark storm came up and wreaked havoc on the land. In his aloneness in the wind he felt he had lived enough of this life. He couldnít be a rose with the pansy body he was born with and he couldn't find solace in the limited lives of the pansies. He surrendered his life to the wind and asked the wind to change him into a glorious rose. He passed with the storm that night. When morning came he was lying dead on the ground.

All through the winter under the snow the elders were teaching the young ones not to be like him. He has proven to the world in a grand way that pansies are not meant to be more than what they are. In his absence it was easy to overlook the wonders of the life that he lived. They filtered out all the joys that he enjoyed alone and focussed on all the weird and incomprehensible things he said and did. They used these stories to make little children pansies scared at night.

The fearful elders turned their backs to his gravesite and asked the rest to do the same. Nobody would dare too look in that evil place where that evil pansy died. Some say it's haunted there and in the still of the night on a full moon you can still hear him laughing his evil laughter. But something kept growing in his offspring. A kind of braveness and a willingness to adventure just like their father. A kind of scepticism too because they didnít just believe anything the elders taught them. His sons and daughters would have a questioning nature. Why this why that? We know you say its evil but why?

Then one day some of them took the courage to turn around and look at his gravesite. And in all her wisdom, sharing her wonderful beauty and fragrance with love to all the world. Stood something marvellous.

You could not see it at first they said. You needed to have the mind for it, and as they practiced to see and opened up their limited thinking they began to see the source of all this wonder. On the grave site there once died the pansy with delusions of unknown origins, there now stood a graceful beautiful smiling Rose.

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Eugene.
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