“Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and of all uncleanness.” – Jesus
Looks like a bee, flies like a…well…a fly.
Batesian mimicry is an awesome biological phenomenon, wherein harmless species (flies) take upon themselves the look at feel of harmful species so that predators are either momentarily or permanently confused. Makes sense. Look the part, play the part, reap the benefits of looking tough when a stinger is the last thing on your mind.
This little dude is perplexing me. He has the body shape of a Drone Fly but his coloring is much brighter. He certainly screams “bee.” But he’s about 6mm long, that’s it. As I said, little dude.
Recently I’ve had the misfortune of interacting with some people who aren’t what they seem to be. I’m old enough to recognize a sociopath when I see one, that’s for sure. I trust in Karma and don’t worry about it too much. Life’s too short.
A fly isn’t being intentionally deceptive…that’s what happens when evolution renders black and yellow coloring an adaptive trait for a harmless fly. But humans…aye, there’s the rub.
Whether it’s an Fundamentalist Christian Congressman from Indiana who promotes abstinence-only sex ed while doing the horizontal mambo with one of his aides for over a year, or a paddlesport publisher who says nice things to his advertisers but spreads lies and vitriol on the backside, it’s getting pretty thick out there.
That was a long sentence. Sorry.
What I think it boils down to is integrity. Integrity is from the Latin for whole or complete. A person who is integrated has one persona, one face they show to the world. There’s no Church Face, Work Face, Wife Face, Mistress Face, Children Face. There’s just one face.
When I think of that sort of integrated soul, I often think of the Dalai Lama.
He visited Madison a few weeks ago. Here he is wearing a Badger cap given to him by the Madison Children’s Choir. Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama is an integrated man. So was Gandhi. So was Mother Teresa. In my own religious tradition, I think of men like Spencer W. Kimball, a Mormon prophet who always looked for ways to bless those around him.
There’s a story about Brother Spencer that I always loved, told by his son from a letter he had received from a stranger.
“A young mother on an overnight flight with a two-year-old daughter was stranded by bad weather in Chicago airport without food or clean clothing for the child and without money. She was … pregnant and threatened with miscarriage, so she was under doctor’s instructions not to carry the child unless it was essential. Hour after hour she stood in one line after another, trying to get a flight to Michigan. The terminal was noisy, full of tired, frustrated, grumpy passengers, and she heard critical references to her crying child and to her sliding her child along the floor with her foot as the line moved forward. No one offered to help with the soaked, hungry, exhausted child.
Then, the woman later reported, ‘someone came towards us and with a kindly smile said, “Is there something I could do to help you?” With a grateful sigh I accepted his offer. He lifted my sobbing little daughter from the cold floor and lovingly held her to him while he patted her gently on the back. He asked if she could chew a piece of gum. When she was settled down, he carried her with him and said something kindly to the others in the line ahead of me, about how I needed their help. They seemed to agree and then he went up to the ticket counter [at the front of the line] and made arrangements with the clerk for me to be put on a flight leaving shortly. He walked with us to a bench, where we chatted a moment, until he was assured that I would be fine. He went on his way. About a week later I saw a picture of Spencer W. Kimball and recognized him as the stranger in the airport.
That’s what it’s all about. Showing love where it is needed, not where it is convenient. Because of that example from one of my heroes I try to help out in airports because there is always such a need for a little help with folks traveling with small children. I used to do it, I know. By the way, the people who gripe about babies crying on airplanes must have been spontaneously created as adults and never were two years old and hungry way past bedtime.
We need to be who we are, or better yet, be who we want to become.
For those who still feel a need to have multiple faces and sets of behavior, free yourselves from the exhaustive work of trying to keep track of who you are to whom. If you’re a jerk, take it from me…all of us pretty much know you’re a jerk, and it would be so much easier if you’d just embrace it.