Off the cuff
I may be showing my age and lack of knowledge when I say I have been wondering and worrying about the youngest generation among us - little kids whose universe seems to revolve around action video games, scary cartoons and the latest fad or fashion. I could easily say, “Back in my day….” but then I‘d have to laugh because there are many people out there who can trace their history much farther back than mine. True, we didn't have video games (not even Pong) when I was a little kid growing up on Freeman Street . The VCR wasn't even a dream and to think we would have more than one TV in the house, much less a computer, would have been science fiction in its purest form. We had but a few forms of entertainment.- riding bicycles, walking across the “prairie” to the local library, going to the occasional movie, and playing - yeah, just playing (whatever that word means). I just know Mom told us kids to do it all the time.
But Sunday afternoon's encounter with our resident “little kid”, seven-year-old Ariana, gave me pause and hope for the future of these techno-loving youngsters. She called me on the phone, asking me to go to her house because she wanted to read me something she had written. I was intrigued, and arrived there a few minutes later. She came out of the house with a spiral notebook clutched in one small hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. We sat down on the porch and she proudly displayed the story she is in the process of writing, entitled “The Surfer Queen”. I read the story and was impressed - not only with the storyline about life and death and love - but also because she had done it on her own. No one told her to spend her Sunday afternoon curled up in her favorite chair thinking about a surfer who was a queen, much less telling her she had to write down the story. And I had to smile when I looked down at the palm of her right hand - it was totally covered in ink marks. Perhaps those marks represented the struggle she had endured putting her thoughts onto the page and creating a magical work of imagination.
I was watching TV the other night, and my belief that our words and thoughts create our life was driven home by a story about a scientist in a foreign land. He ran an experiment involving ice crystals. With each drop of water added to each crystal he spoke words - either kind and soothing or angry and belittling, At the end of the experiment he was amazed to find that the crystals he had spoken positive words to had developed into beautiful and intricate designs. But he was also amazed to find that the crystals which he had spewed negative and curse words to were deformed and ugly. To take the concept a little further, another scientist ran the same experiment using bean sprouts. The scientist ignored one sprout and it never sprouted, yet in the same time frame the sprout she had talked lovingly to had not only sprouted but grown like crazy. Okay, so this is a little far out there, I admit. But what if these experiments truly are pure examples of what happens to us - humans - when another person chooses to either bless us or curse us with their words? And what about when we curse or bless ourselves and others with our words and thoughts?
So the next time you find yourself on the verge of using angry, belittling and mean words toward your child or spouse or friend or yourself, think of those deformed ice crystals. And then, think of the intricate and beautiful design of loving, kind and positive words - and let those words flow forth to create in another soul not a deformity but a work of wondrous art!
Boise City News