“I drew a picture of a pair of wings, because I want to fly My mother asked me to explain, I said that I would try… the art of really flying was dying” – Dream #2 by Ken Tobias
Once upon a time, I knew a boy whose parents fell out of love and stopped living together at his home. It was very sad for the boy, because where once there had been joy, now there was only loneliness in his heart.
“She said it was the strangest thing that she had ever heard, A man can only be a man, he cannot be a bird”
To make things worse, both his mom’s and dad’s family stop talking to one another. They took sides – let’s call one side the black side and the other one the white side – just like choosing sides for basketball. Whenever the boy was with the white side, they would tell him how bad the black side was – the same thing happened when he was with the black side. It wasn’t so much that one side hated the other… it’s just that they loved their own side better.
This made him feel even more unhappy, because he really didn’t want to ‘side’ with anyone.
“That’s not really true, I tried to tell her If the search for love is true, you’ll find an answer”
However, the boy grew up listening to one side more than the other. The white side seemed to have convinced him that the black side hurt him even more than he knew. So, he reacted in the same way – loving the one side and not the other.
You might say that he began to see things in black and white.
Later, as a young man, he met a sympathetic friend who couldn’t grasp why he no longer loved the black side. He said he didn’t know for sure any more, only that the black side was, well… black. His friend still didn’t understand, but asked if he understood that the black side probably suffered more, by not having his love?
“Father can’t you hear me? I bid you take my hand Dying’s a part of living, I know you’ll understand”
Why had he been forced to choose sides? When did the sides become “black and white?” He felt angry at both sides because he felt that “adults” should know better. He now understood that there were three sides to the story: the white side, the black side… and the truth.
“he said it cannot be. He said I’m living in a world of fantasy, How can I tell him, this, is my reality?”
So, the son did a brave thing… what no grown-up had done before: expressed forgiveness and love to both sides. And, he never had to choose sides again; everyone was on the same side.
“I drew a picture of a pair of wings, because I want to fly”