Once upon a time, there was an island with two tribes. On one side of the island lived a people who longed to see every color in the spectrum. They studied flowers and butterflies. Their worship was to gather after every storm and look up at the rainbow. For that reason, they were called the “Rainbow People.”
On the other side of the island lived a people who longed for clarity above all. They were called the “Zebra People.” Zebra people resolved to define every aspect of the island into black and white clarity. They could not rest until everything was clearly defined, which meant devoid of any tint or nuance of color.
Zebra People grew very frightened when they saw something grey. Anything that was not either black or white seemed to muddy the sacred clarity of their minds. And so, for that reason, the Zebra People grew to hate the Rainbow People, because what Rainbow People saw as the nuance of color, Zebra People saw as muddying the clear issue at hand.
For years the Zebra People hounded and tortured and tried to convert the Rainbow People. When they refused to be converted to a black and white world, the Zebras invaded and killed all the Rainbow People. Believing their superior power had proved them right, the Zebras rested. They trusted that they were finally safe, and now lived on in a world without the vagaries of tint or tone.
What the Zebra people did not know is that that every seeing child is born loving colors. They also could not spot the colorful symbols that had been left behind all over the island. One day, after a particularly horrendous storm all the children of the island were found out in a field staring up at the clouds. “What are you looking at?” asked the terrified elders.
“Oh, nothing.” Answered the wisest of the children.