Rather than an article, some fun food for thought this month: reflections on "long established precedent", changing our thoughts and looking at things from a different perspective.
I first heard this read out loud. Try it for yourself!
The Sheep Trail by Gene Rooney
Centuries ago in a wood so deep,
Through the cool grass there wandered a sheep,
Who started a trail as he moved along,
A winding trail in the brush long gone.
By now two hundred years are through
And the sheep has died, as all sheep do:
But he left behind this trail he trod,
As he mashed the grass on the forest sod.
And after him there came his flock,
And then after them, some other stock,
Until it seemed to be a parade;
Thus, through these woods a path was made.
Twas a crooked path that wound about
And dodged and curved both in and out,
And up and down over vale and steep
Went the bending trail of that long gone sheep.
Then came some men on that twisting track,
That wandered here then took them back,
Till they uttered words of holy wrath
To curse the curves of that twisting path.
And still they struggled till they did weep,
Along the meanderings of that sheep,
Who on this twisting trail they stalked,
Because he wandered as he walked.
In time the trail became a track,
That twisted around and circled back;
The track in time became a road,
Where many a traveler lugged his load.
And staggering on in the scorching sun
They walked three miles for every one,
And as they walked they'd curse or weep,
As they followed the steps of that crooked sheep.
In time, the road became a street,
And the forest a town where traders meet
To sell their goods as their carts did creep
Along the footsteps of that sheep.
And then the street became a square
Of a growing city's thoroughfare.
And then, no lesser fame than this:
The major street of a metropolis.
Each day the city's thousands trod
Over that ancient forest sod,
And traveled at a furious pace,
That twisting path that sheep did trace.
And though he's now long gone and dead,
Each day a million or more are led
By one old sheep winding in and out,
directing a country's traffic about.
They follow still in his wandering way,
wasting ten thousand years a day!
Oh, what blind reverence is lent
To long established precedent!
We seem compelled to wander blind,
Along the sheep trails of the mind,
To win again what others won
And do again what they have done.
And we without the least contrition,
Bend our knee to worship tradition,
And count it progress to stumble along,
In the hoof-prints of that sheep long gone.
Well, many a thing this tale could teach,
But you do not want to hear me preach.
Instead, I offer a challenge to meet:
To change that path in your mind cut deep.
To open your eyes, to reach the sun,
To do what others have not done,
To transcend time, to take the leap,
To transform your mind....and bury that sheep.
