- My eyes spot a giant pearl, nesting in white gold. It beams like an all knowing lunar orb,
- looking back as if it sees me. Am I an oyster or a pearl? I wonder. Advertised from an online
- jeweler, I choose the right size, 5.5. I’m really bad about jewelry, losing it, breaking it. I picture
- wearing it at tradeshows, with French tips, when the appearance of my hands matters. Price
- differentiates between natural pearls and cultured pearls. Of three tons of harvested oysters,
- maybe three or four contain this rarity. A string of natural pearls costs hundreds of thousands.
- Cultivated pearls require help from a farmer by insertion of an irritating nucleus into the
- oyster—to replicate the precious symbol of sacrifice. I hadn’t given it much thought
- before. Aren’t all pearls cultivated? Fresh water, or salt—natural or cultured? Doesn’t any
- oyster work to rid itself of a parasite that doesn’t belong? A deeper thinker may even accept
- that the foreign body is one to be embraced and reckoned. To not be afraid of the pain, face it
- head on—look it in the eye. So, natural oysters go along, skirted by the tides, doing their jobs,
- and only a few are chosen to endure a special process—that of crafting a jewel. How are these
- oysters the lucky ones? Is there some chemistry in the ocean that decides—this one can handle
- it—some marine biology dictating a capability that other oysters don’t have? An oyster is a
- small lapidary, churning and yearning for the end—resulting in peace, solace… resolution. The
- oyster itself polishes a pearl, because it’s worthy of courage. Fearlessness that turns sorrow to
- joy—pain to relief—fear to love.
- I read on to find that there is a second natural oyster that doesn’t receive such glory. Its’
- vocation is of a lower calling. It exists to serve the environment outside of itself, cleansing
- marshland, purifying ocean water, never producing a pearl. It doesn’t lap in a Neptune palisade
- laboring royal in carved ivory splendor. A bottom feeder, it compares to guys on the lower
- deck of a luxury liner, sweating beside boilers, working the oars. I’m impressed by both types,
- like people in a caste system. Synchronism orders a world where facades of kings and queens
- belie agonizing burdens and impoverished folks seemingly never get a break…a morsel, a
- crumb.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Oysters and Pearls
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what a gift you have with words. how blessed i am to call you friend. i believe you were chosen to endure a special process-that of crafting a jewel. you are a pearl to everyone God has chosen to be on your path. i love you!!!
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