“Each origin is the pain of every beginning.”– Anonymous
Without the acknowledgement of roots, the suffering it took to create what was created for future generations to hold in appreciation, what is there left? What is there left for the recognition of a million more miles to come, if one merely severs those roots, forgets how one began, forsakes the pain it took to begin? Is one, at that moment, arrogant enough to believe that their roots are far too painful of a memory to want to see more of how they can further grow from that seed? By that reasoning, we have forsaken all mothers. We have forsaken our own mother, who gave us life in the process of labor pains. Labor. Work. Or… the simple undertaking of starting creation. That is, the creation of the child’s life. Not their beating heart, but their ways to know about the world. We teach them what we know, though teach them the most not to be stubborn or closed-minded.
To have a foundation means to appreciate a beginning. There have been those who wish to begin their own tale, in the place of someone else’s. Though, they wouldn’t dare to continue what that person started.
To cut those roots of a culture, by whatever other culture seems themselves dominant enough to do so, will inevitably cause their direction to be the opposite of the one they opposed. You can see such occurring in the mere act of rebellion. The rebels have opposite views, will lean as far away from their oppressors as possible, until both rebels and oppressors are staring at each other from opposite ends.
Whatever person or culture, possessing their own ideals, cut the roots of another culture they opposed, will inevitably lead to the opposite of what the destroyed culture upheld. What was once their pain, being the destroyed culture’s pain, is now a new pain. Though, that pain is now read in the opposite direction, like a book being read backwards. Or, it is more like a tree growing underground, rather than how it grew upwards, before the culture was destroyed.
This is factual when we think of the ideals within politics. More division, means more seeds. More seeds, means more beginnings. More beginnings, means more arrogance, by how one will say to another that they cannot comprehend how their suffering began. Though, it seems that more-so in today’s time, by how much division there is, people begin to fight with others, comparing pains. They fight, and thus they begin to forget how much that person suffered, in how their story started.
The human world lives on division, though ends on understanding. Reading a book until the end was only done so, because one held their attention on something. They understood what was written, because that is why they read it until the end.
It lives on division, when a person can offer their own thoughts, in the pauses, for the division of paragraphs or sentences. Though, a foundation, to how the book began, is how a person will find another’s tale to be the most compelling. The attention that is grabbed at the beginning of a book, because no one starts a story from the middle, keeps the reader attentive. Life is like a book, and whether it be closed or opened, matters up to whether one wants to pay attention.
The most important part to understanding anyone’s story is in seeing how it began for them. Anything within the middle are just random details. Anything at the end, is only ever important if you paid attention to the middle. It is like holding a dying loved one’s hand until the bitter end of their death. To not let go of the book, is to not let go of the story.