5/17/2017 0 Comments I Smashed an Ant!I just squashed a tiny ant running across my writing table. I reached out and without any thought or reflection, smashed it into "death". Then, because I know that actions reflect unseen patterns and that others reflections of one pattern show up in many ways and many places, I paused to ask, "In what world would I be the ant?" "When was I crushed?" And, "In that world, whose hand could smash me?" My mind immediately takes me to the traditional "god" , which I no longer believe in. But it was the first step in my contemplation. Don't most people who believe in "god" pray that "he/she" will keep them safe from such calamities as a bigger "hand" of judgement. They pray that some bigger power will find them worthy of heaven and keep them from the fires of hell?" Since I don't buy that story and this situation is about me, what is there to learn and consider? Without a thought, I reached out and ended this one ant's life. Ants come and go here in my island. Usually at certain season. They have an entire community collective of which I am not a part. I know a bit about ants, but not much and they probably know less about me. . I am bigger but they were here first. Any relationship between the ants and myself would be more about agreed co-existence than active collaboration. They have instinctual ways of being in the world, I have more conscious and habitual automatic ways. We are not the same and yet inhabit the same space. Their families have been on this land for generations. This house was built in the 1970's and I have been here 5 years. Life on Earth is not static. My family's land as an indigenous people was somewhere is what is now Europe. It was probably desirable enough that those with greed, domination agendas come marching into their villages. That life of my long ago family, living in harmony with Earth, is lost from memory and hidden in the shadows of survival. Some group who considered themselves "bigger, stronger, more entitled than the families who had been on the land for generation upon generation, simply invaded, oppressed, killed and took. Those events are so far back, the crippling of my family's traditions so complete, the need to survive so strong that my families let go of identity, traditions, Spiritual gifts, and personal passions. They lived in a state of possum, pretending to be alive, waiting to be approved for heaven, willing to be placated by money, by placid unconscious agreement to system of control and occupation and never question. They were white Europeans, especially the white female Europeans, beaten into submission. The reward was pats on the head, "good girls". We are the privileged you see. When faced with hints of cruelty, our eyes glaze over and our minds shut down. Why? Because that is the pattern our long ago mothers used in order to survive the intense targeted abuse, torture, killings, designed to silence their voice, visions, and gifts. To not be smashed as I smashed the ant. My maternal lines energy, numbed, denying abuse, silent to survive shows up in my eyes when faced with more current targeted racism. I am not acting from white privilege. I am acting from the deep wounded trans-generational trauma and tragedy. When feelings were numbed, my great, great, great grandmothers became silenced to survive their torture and preserve the life of their children. It shows up in any tendency toward silence in the face of other's torture and discounting today. We are privileged and yet we have been crippled Stepford wives. I chose to be conscious about the diverse life in my world. I chose to value diversity and discover and design ways to co-exist, to collaborate for Good for all in the Web of Life. I regret my actions in squashing a member of the ant collective. However, I give thankful acknowledgement for the greater lesson this tiny family member has given me. What did it take for you to wake up from your stupor? I would love to have you visit the newest addition to my website, the INSPIRE tab. Check it out at my Website.. Sharon Riegie Maynard
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Sharon Riegie
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