A Poem



The stunning of bells echoes hypnotizing all through the night.

They play to all people

To all people in the world

Yes, to all, especially to you who are or feel different

Different clothes, hairstyle or color of the skin

They are just appearances

You have your own thoughts and opinions

Just your own

So why not to listen the call of bells, when they playing just for you?

For you who are special and unique in this world

Kati 20.12.1986

1986, I was 12 years old when I wrote that poem. A young girl with no idea of how complex the world was.

As I read that poem, I think to myself; “that is one wise little girl”.

Life sometimes takes some unexpected turns leading you to places you never dreamed of. Life stretches you to the limits, sometimes even to the edge of itself. A curious fact though, those same curves that take you to the brink also get you back to who you used to be.

Most people give into fear and do not dare to look into what scares them most. I want to share a piece of advice with those that are too afraid to look into their own fears; “what you fear is actually a mirror. In it, you see your own reflection. It is your choice to see in that reflection your strengths or your weaknesses.” Real happiness cannot be reached if one does not look into this mirror.

I often ask myself why so many people waste their lives feeding monsters of fear and hatred. Don’t they realize that at the end that monster is going to tear them and everything they love apart?

A friend asked me what I thought about discrimination. The only thing I can say is that it is a bad thing. What do I know about discrimination?

Before the stroke, I used to be a young white woman. As an aspiring model, I knew rejection but never based on color, culture or religion. Doors were never closed in my face; I always got a fair chance. Racism was just something I read about in papers or magazine.

After the stroke, I obviously still was (am) a young white woman, only now then I was (am) unable to move anymore. Life was not as easy anymore as before. However, I live in a country with a well-set social system where everyone is treated equally. My mother did have to go through many headaches to get the necessary benefits because the social system in this city had not had a case like mine before. Still doors were never slammed shut in her face.

I do not have the faintest idea of what racism and discrimination feel like, no idea what so ever.

I like new things and new ideas; I love things that are different. They always excite me. Different styles, colors, flavors. It enriches my mind and soul; it enriches my life. Brand new challenges, chances to reach places I never reached before. Being it physical or spiritual.

I can understand the fear. Nevertheless, I cannot understand the hatred.

Imagine being called names, spit on, and criticized. Doors being slammed in your face, just because you look different. Being born in a particular country or having a certain color of skin does not make you better or give you the right to disrespect and discriminate others. You may dislike someone. However, that is no reason to treat them as if they are not humans.

We should have to be more compassionate with ourselves. If we develop self-worth, we would not have no need to feed our fears. Without fears, there will be no reason to hate.

You would think that a tetraplegic woman, locked inside herself that is unable to talk would not have any idea about hate. Well, I do get my share of nasty comments and hate mails (emails and post).  It saddens me. Not the fact what they write and the things that they say, but the fact of the hatred they carry inside of them. I wish that no one should have so much hatred in his or her hearts.

I consider myself privileged for many, many reasons and one of those reasons is that I do not have hate in my heart.


p.s. This is the last blog of the season. I´ll be back in the fall. Enjoy this wonderful summer.

Comments (1)

  1. Sarah Tun 26.04.2018 10:21

    To have a sense of encouragement and compassion is a gift at any age. To have it at twelve is special indeed.
    I am white, but have experienced prejudice. It is a sad experience, to feel outcast, excluded, for any reason. Unfortunately, this is the way of many in the world: to be hated by some, or to hate in order to elevate oneself, is a shame we humans often face, on one side of the barrier or the other.
    The fear you mention as a mirror is a great insight. Thanks for sharing.

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