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It’s Not A Sign

September 10th, 2012 | No Comments

On the Northwest point of Stanley Park in Vancouver is Siwash Rock. It is the turnaround point when I jog, so I see it a few times a week.

Siwash Rock

Last week, for the first time, I read the plaque on the seawall in front of it. It detailed the legend associated with it, from the local first nations people. I have passed it hundreds of times over the years, but on this day the meaning of it changed for me.

 

When the Spanish invaded Peru, their quest to conquer the Incas included the destruction of monuments that were seen to be of value to the indigenous people. They destroyed tablets and epitaphs at the base of mountains, thinking they were destroying important religious sites. The Incans believed that the mountains were gods, so really all the Spanish were doing was destroying the nametags.

 

A mountain is a mountain, unless someone tells you it is a god (and you chose to believe it).

 

A sign is a sign, only if you want it to be. What happens when your fortune cookie disagrees with your horoscope? Nothing.

 

If you’re driving to a store to buy something and you can’t find parking, do you believe it is a sign that you don’t need to buy that thing? It is, if you don’t really want it. If you absolutely had to have it, you’d park blocks away and walk.

 

We see the world not as it is, but as we are.

 

We put the meaning into things. Otherwise, they’re often just rocks.

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