Saturday, September 22, 2012

The Green Lenses

The Green Lenses - Jina Wallwork

She looks towards me with disdain. She has fooled herself into believing that my success leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, when in reality it is her saliva that has always contained a naturally horrid taste. She is incapable of removing her green lenses and viewing the world without a jealous gaze, bitterness has become a defining aspect of her personality. Those lenses make it impossible, for anyone to perceive the process of success. They focus only on the sweet results and ignore all of the steps that were taken.

While learning to fly I constantly fell to the earth, as the world’s most persistent failure. I braved humiliation and ridicule, only to pick myself up and try once more. They laughed as I healed and I continued to focus on the blue skies. I gambled everything, until I had nothing left to lose. I continued beyond their cruel words, which often fueled my efforts more than kindness ever could. When I felt that all was lost, I continued anyway. It ceased to matter whether I would fly or fall. The act of making the attempt had become the core of my life, results were immaterial. The path of your greatest failure, will lead you to stumble onto the smallest pieces of success. I know this process too well.

She sees my flight and claims a friendship that had drifted into obscurity long ago. She pulls it into the present, only to ask for my assistance. She wants to glide through the skies with haste, is she asking for a map of the runway? She asks me not for the process, but only for the results. She wants me to repeat the process on her behalf, but I cannot spare the years that would be needed. Does she honestly believe that another should carry her into flight?

She grows angry with my lack of assistance, demanding that I explain how I achieved success. Through her green lenses, she cannot see the truth behind my words. I tell her that she must be persistent, she must work hard, and she must accept failure and humiliation because she will greet them many times. I tell her that she must hold onto hope, because eventually something will work.

She looks at me with surprise and yells words that I choose not to repeat. I sense that she feels betrayed, as though I am hiding what is rightfully hers. I have given her the map that she so clearly desires and I am greeted with visceral hatred. She slams each door, as she defiantly walks away. From a distance, I can hear her speak of the stupidity of flight, which she now condemns as nonsense. Then she talks of the magnificence and grace, that only walking can provide. She asks why anyone would choose to do anything else?