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The Art of Adaptation: Unveiling the Wisdom of The Bat and The Weasels

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  The Art of Adaptation: Unveiling the Wisdom of The Bat and The Weasels “It is wise to turn circumstances to good account.” — Aesop In the world of fables, we often find animals acting out the deepest parts of our humanity. These creatures, symbols of instinct and survival, carry lessons older than time itself. The Bat and The Weasels , retold from the mind of Aesop and reimagined through the lens of Gye-Nyame Journey, isn’t just a tale for children—it’s a guide for those grown folks who still seek mastery. When the World Has You Cornered Here’s the setup: A bat falls to the ground and is caught by a weasel. The weasel hates birds. So the bat, slick with the tongue, says, “I’m not a bird—I’m a mouse.” The weasel lets him go. Later, the same bat falls again. This time, a different weasel catches him. But this weasel hates mice. So what does the bat say? “I’m not a mouse—I’m a bird.” And he gets set free again. Now, you could say the bat was being dishonest. But hold on. Let’s go de...

Final GoodBye III- Writing for Healing

His Story is Mine

His story is mines,
Better yet my story is his,
For now I can no longer deal with what was,
Now I have to deal with what is.
A great tree has fallen in the forest of life,
A tree that provided shade for many and a shelter from strife.
But this is not the end of his tory for his story is mine,
And his story will live through his bloodline for all time.
His story is not over because his story is mine, and I need for his loved ones to read between the lines.
Although his body is gone his spirit is strong, that explains why through the pain and confusion he lived so long.
Fear not because his story is not over because his story is mine,
He has made it to peace and he rest with the divine
We are the seeds and saplings grafted from his tree and now he can rest in comfort for his story can be told by we.
His story is not over, because his story belongs to me
For I am a proud branch on his family tree, I will always remember those that came before, those that struggled like no people before.
Like Miles Brown and the lady known as Ms. Ann their stories will live because it was passed to my hands
Like Herman Brown and Rosa lee
Like Geneva and Herman brown the second, and Cleven Brown now can peacefully join their essence
Although his body has now been returned to the earth
His story and their story has been cemented  in  time by Cleven Miles Brown's birth.
His story his mine, his story is ours, his story is ours.
Now tell it.......

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