The Mosaic Wall
A beautiful river ran through this city's downtown center and near a small bridge which connected the two sides, there was a mosaic wall. It was covered with beautiful colored tiles, but it also showed clear signs of rough weather and lack of maintenance. It was not famous… it was not put up by any famed artist of that city. It was not a work of art, but an artist’s work. Someone who was paid to do the job of putting up the tiles on the wall, but this person had done their job not just a way of making money, but as an expression of their work.
Many people walked past it each day, but few noticed it. Those who stopped to take the time to observe the wall, were drawn by the chaos of its colors- pinks, blues, greens, yellows, reds… each held within bold black borders. It was as if the colors nudged and urged each person to try and express themselves in their best and boldest way- while still doing their part and playing the role they played in the society.
One day, a young woman was so drawn to the wall that she stood gazing at it, motionless... for several minutes. She was struggling to find her standing in life. She had recently lost her father and her mother was old, ill and heartbroken. As the eldest of the three siblings, she faced the challenge of providing for the family, but she felt scared and unable to rise up to the challenge. The wall seemed to speak to her… but it was as if she could hear it but not decode the meaning. She blinked hard and looked around. There was an old street artist close by who accepted a few dollars for drawing quick portrait-caricatures.
She walked up to the old artist and asked, “do you know who made that mosaic?” He replied, “no. I have seen that wall since my younger days when I came to this city in search of new fortunes. Why?”
In reply she asked, “Why are the colors in boxes? Wouldn’t they be freer without the lines? The bold colors of the mosaic speak to me, but I feel that each color could express better if they were not so boxed in!!” The young girl did not realize that the wall was the same to each passerby, what she saw was her own inner turmoil reflected outwardly on the wall.
The old artist smiled and said, “the lines don’t trap the colors, they help them stand out. Without those defined boundaries, you wouldn’t have noticed the beautiful way each color shimmers and shines.”
The young girl thought about it… she realized that it is also the same with life. We all dislike limits and challenges, because we think of them as boundaries that box us in. BUT the reality is that in life, too, we sometimes resist such lines- the limits, the challenges, the boundaries we face. We think they restrict us. But often, it is within those very limits that our truest colors are revealed. The black lines give shape to each of the mosaic tiles and our life struggles give shape to our life path and our growth.
She realized that every color has its place in the pattern. No shade is less important than another. Together, they make something you cannot see when looking at a single square alone: a masterpiece of contrast and harmony.
The girl found inspiration to deal with her challenges. Now, no matter how her day was going, each time she passed by the bridge and saw the mosaic wall, she would smile and know that she is part of a greater pattern, and her challenges are just a way for her to express her best self.
She was her own vibrant square adding to the beauty of a larger, grander cosmic design.