He was throwing the seeds to the winds and watching them
swirl around and fall where they would. He was laughing joyfully at this, seeing
how the winds danced with the seeds and the seeds let themselves be danced with.
Then his mother came and raised her voice: “Son,” she said sternly, “we are not
that rich that you can waste the seeds as you do! You need to learn to put them
in the ground so they will grow so we can feed ourselves and feed the village.
That is our responsibility! If you don’t learn this, you will never amount to
anything and I will have failed as your mother!”
When his father came home for supper, the mother told him:
“Your son wasted the seeds again…”
“Son!” The father said, “I am worried about you. You are a
headache to your mother and me! You are a dreamer and that won’t get you
anywhere… You cannot just live randomly! You need structure and discipline and
hard work to make a living! We are farmers! That’s what we are! That’s what you
are! So do as your mother says… learn your trade or else you’ll never make a
living!”
The little boy went to his room feeling very alone and
scared that he would never amount to anything, that his parents were right,
that he was such a disappointment to everyone… and he felt much shame within
him. He fell asleep crying and asked Life to give him the strength to be a good
boy, to make his parents proud. He always talked to Life like other people talk
to God because he could touch life, he could touch the seeds, feel the winds,
he had a connection with it.
The following day he went to the fields and promised his
mother he would do as she said. He was filled with a sense that it would not be
so hard to plant the seeds as his mother told him and as his father wanted. He
was filled with the kind of resolve that made him feel he was a good boy and he
would make his parents proud. So he started planting the seeds as he was told,
dutifully and carefully, saying caring words to each one. He would say to one:
“You will grow strong and tall and soothe the hearts of many people!” Then he
would cover it with dirt and say out loud: “Dirt! Be good to the seed, she has
so many people to love.” And to another: “You will be so beautiful that no one
will eat your fruit, but everybody seeing you will be blessed with happiness!’
And he continued like this feeling content. Suddenly, his mother called him and
raised her voice: “Son! Don’t you see that all this time you are taking is just
a waste of time? How many seeds have you planted so far? How many do you have
left to plant? You’ll never amount to anything! You’re just a waste of my
time!”
The little boy went into the woods and started to cry
feeling hopeless. He had done his best and he was still a disappointment to his
mother. He’d envisioned so much pride in her and it was not happening. He was
feeling like a horrible little boy and was filled with shame. He lost track of
time and arrived late for supper. His mother told him there was no supper for
him because he was late. She sent him to his bedroom. She said he had a rebel
streak in him and he needed to learn a lesson. The little boy did not say a
word. He went to his bedroom. He did not even cry. He was numb. And his heart
was heavy. He did not even think to talk to Life like the previous night.
In the morning, he had a hard time waking up. His mother
yelled at him a few times to get up and then gave up. When he got up, he gave
himself breakfast and went out to the woods and walked aimlessly, alone. He did
not even come home for lunch. When he got home for supper, he was silent. His
mother yelled something about worrying her all day. His father told him if he
could not follow a simple task they could no longer help him.
Many days passed and nothing much changed. The little boy no
longer felt the seeds in his hands, and no longer talked to them. He no longer
laughed watching how the winds danced with the seeds and the seeds enjoyed being
danced with before they fell softly on the ground, giddy with love. Many days
passed alone. Not even alone, just empty, like he did not have a self anymore;
nothing.
