I love inspirational books like the The Power of Now and Women Who Run with the Wolves. I enjoy reading wisdom worth passing down. I even feel as if I have changed afterward or that I struggle to change myself afterward. They put me on my guard, and I try to follow their words, but then, after a few months, I backslide. My father said to me once in a dream that I was his most stubborn child. Perhaps I am; I know I only learn things from experience. I only know life lessons in my bones from living them. Only when the universe grabs me by the throat and shakes the snot out me do I change. Only when it applies vise grips to the thumbs of my ego do I notice it. Only when something shakes me to the core, growls and snarls at me with hair up and dares me to keep going on the wrong path that leads into its teeth, do I turn around and head another way. Only when I have fallen can I get up. It may be because of my First Nations genes. I was brought up to understand that only by experiencing do we truly learn. So, we make decisions, some right some wrong. It is how we learn.
A story that exemplifies this is about two Native American men
in a boat, one old, one young. The old man knew the river well, each stone,
each gill. It was the young man’s first trip down the river. As they paddled
along, the old man looked up. He saw the younger man was taking them right into
some rocks, but he said nothing even as they headed straight for them. "Why?" one
may ask. The boat might be damaged. They might capsize. Why not say something? Because
many things may or may not happen. The only sure thing was that if he spoke, the
boy would never become an old man who knew the river so well, each stone, each
gill.
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