We have become winter, we Indigenes of Europe who, few in number, walked out of Africa a scant 35,000 years ago and who mutated to survive in new cloud covered lands and who became a separate and a new people on our way to specieshood.
We are the people who got through the bottleneck while many perished.
But our major mutations happened before our own inventions--mass transportation and worldwide communications--caught up with us and removed our geographic isolation. .
And, those mutations happened before incorrect and false thinking removed our reproductive isolation.
We were too clever, too fast, for our own good. We opened the door to the others before we had time to became a new species.
It is a truth of nature that all living things flow into those places where they feel most comfortable and where they find little resistance.
Now, we are naked and vulnerable before the world on this brown planet, and a new bottleneck is forming.
Now, others are walking out of Africa into our lands, but they do not have our mutations and they do not need them. They can take Vitamin D pills and they can buy warm clothes and live in heated homes.
Their very presence is a danger to our continued existence as a distinct type, for their gene pool now becomes our gene pool and the old genes that we left behind now pull us back to Africa.
Winter is now in our blood and in our bones. We have forgotten the things of spring and we no longer fill the nurseries with our children but fill the old age homes with our diminishing numbers. And, we deny our eyes and mistakenly call the children of those who are not our people; our children.
Yes, Africa seeks to pull us back and we are weak. We make mewling comments that diminish ourselves. We let those who hate us cudgel us into silence and timidity with words, and we whimper, "We are not racists."
We apologize for living and for being as and who we are. We are old and decrepit, yet we are the youngest of the peoples of this planet, and our mutations are not yet fixed; they are fragile and easily lost. It takes two of us to make a new one of us. One wrong mating, and Africa we become.
Some look at white and non-white marriages and say the children of such marriages are half-white and half-non-white, but this is not true and only shows how ignorant we are about genes. Such offspring are non-white. Again, it takes two whites to make a white. It is not so with the others. It takes one of them and one of any other to make one of them. This is genetics. This is the reality of so-called dominant and recessive genes. This is the way nature works.
Evolution works through distillation, not blending. Inertia pulls back the few to the mass.
It is a constant struggle and takes effort to remain as we are. Stars exist because they struggle and put forth effort to exist. The dark awaits their struggle's end and the dark says "I am, when you are not. I am easy." Light is hard. It is difficult. It requires constant struggle and effort just to exist. Without struggle and effort, there is nothing.
And, if you think such talk--of stars and the things of the cosmos, from incredibly large spinning galaxies with billions of stars to incredibly small sub-atomic particles and the waves that give birth to matter--is misplaced here, you are wrong.
We are part of it all. The struggle out there, is the struggle down here. The principles out there are the principles here. Nature there is nature here. What is without, is within.
To become as the others, we need do nothing but cease our struggle to be different. Many have done so. They are gone now. They are no longer us. They are no longer different.
We are afraid of shadows and words as only the aged and infirm can be afraid. We deny the king of our senses--sight--and we fear that if we notice differences in different peoples we will be shunned, or worse. Yet, we have our sight just for this reason. In our species it is sight that protects us and which spurs us on to mate. We deny our eyes at our peril.
And, in our fear we never dare to say aloud: "We are a separate and distinct people, and we wish to remain a separate and distinct people and we will struggle to survive and prosper as we are and with our mutations and our adaptations. We have left Africa and we do not wish to go back. We have a different destiny that we ourselves are choosing, for we are adults now and our eyes are open. We are ourselves, alone."
Will we find spring again? Will we leave winter behind? Will we understand the lessons of nature and put forth new shoots in our image or will we be from this day forward just dried up leaves waiting to fall from the tree?
Will we leave the self-doubt and the tentative and timid approach to existence behind, and once again become bold and full of self-confidence and strength? Will we become young again as a people, full of the exuberance for life that we now lack? Will we rise up from our lounge chairs and yell to an uncaring universe that we exist, and by damn we're going to continue to exist and we don't care who doesn't like it?
Will we shout out: "Yes, we have white skin and this and that eye color and hair color and hair texture and bone structure and thousands of other things that have been determined by our genes that make us who and what we are, and we damn well like these things and we're going to struggle to be as we wish to be."
Will the sap again rise in our veins? Will we start multiplying again so that our own people so fill our lands that they act as a semi-permeable membrane keeping others out but allowing us to go forth as once we did? Will we learn that expansion is life and contraction is death?
Will we remember that it is only by multiplying to our fullest that we will expand and be full of life. Will we remember that making teeming millions more just like us is our most basic and our sacred purpose and that this is also the most basic purpose of all life and that we are in a competition with all life that fills our niches?
Will we ever realize that it is the ones who die with the most children who win the eternal competition for survival?
Will we understand the lessons of nature? Will we ever remember that it all began with a single point and then a single cell and that single cell mutated and changed and adapted and multiplied, and as it did so it continued to mutate and change and adapt so that it could fill all niches with itself?
Will we ever truly understand that the spiral within is the spiral without,and that our spinning strands of DNA are to us as the spinning galaxies are to the universe?
Will we ever learn that we are spun from within according to the code of our people and that the words of who we are, are written in every cell of our bodies? Will we ever learn that the holiest of the holies is in us and that we truly are temples of an unknown first cause that started that first point in the nothingness billions of years ago?
And, will we understand that even though we came from those before, we are different and owe them no more than we owe to the minerals outside our bodies that are the same as the minerals that make up our bodies?
It is not the similarities of things that are important, but the differences. Everything that we know about in all of existence is made up of the same things on some level, yet we would not be so foolish as to say that a fish is therefore the same as a bird or a tree or a rock.
Will we ever understand the ways of existence? Will we not see in ourselves, what we see out there? Sub-atomic particles, waves, rays, galaxies, stars--what rules them, rules us. What is out there, is in here. And, it was ever so and it shall ever be so. The mystical journey is a scientific journey and existence is little more than simple things repeated over and over and over again.
Everything is simple; it is only the explanation that is complex. And so too is it with man.
It is time now that we leave the fairy tales of children behind and live intentionally with our eyes wide open and looking ever upward as we take the spiral path to our highest possible destiny.
It is time for ourselves alone to teem; for this is the only way up.
# # #
THREE BOOKS BY HARD TO PIGEONHOLE H. MILLARD
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Ourselves Alone & Homeless Jack's Religion
ROAMING THE WASTELANDS
THE OUTSIDER - (ISBN: 0-595-19424-9)
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