This is the anti-rant to the last post.
I had a wee gathering of like-minded folk here at the old homestead yesterday. There was spinning and art and coffee and intelligent conversation. A wee oasis of sanity in the middle of cabin-fever season.
Anyhoo, the subject of Blue Ducks arose. I told my little story and repeated my rant. There was commiseration and laughter. Then everyone went home, the family all retreated to their various activities, and I was alone with my thoughts for a bit. And I had an epiphany, of sorts.
The latent Bhuddist inside of me brought me around to compassion for those I railed against...I realized that those people who are so angry when confronted with the artsy, unusual, or just plain weird are to be pitied and nurtured themselves. They are reacting from a place of fear and don't know any better. Those of us who are proud to live and work outside of the parameters of "normal lives" don't have those same fears. Or perhaps we do, which is why we become so defensive when others attack us or our practices. We just face them differently.
In the end, we all just want a sense that we have a place in the universe, and that we know what that place is. But we all have a different place, and we have to just accept that our place is scary and threatening to somebody else. That's just the way it is. Perhaps their place is scary to them, too. So I stay positive, and I smile in the face of their fear and anger, and I keep on doing what I do.
I will continue to nurture the Blue Ducks of the world, and I will do my best to have compassion for the Duck Hunters and attempt to ease their fears.
And, for the record, there are Blue Ducks. They are an endangered species (carrying on my metaphor, perhaps) native to New Zealand. Wikipedia has the most concise description here.
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