Once upon a time there was a country called Footlandia that was inhabited by four-toed and five-toed people. Because the five-toed people had always been in the majority, they ruled the land.
There were five five-toed physicians who had grown up in Footlandia and had distinguished themselves to the degree that they were elected to manage all the operations and functions of keeping Footlandia and its people safe and prosperous. These physicians loved their families, were faithful to their religious institutions, and were looked upon with respect by the Footlandians. The five five-toed physicians took their jobs quite seriously.
One of the things the five five-toed physicians were charged with was to protect their subjects from harm, both within and without. For many years the physicians had succeeded in promoting the health of their citizenry. They made sure that the people got what they needed, and that invaders from the outside were prevented from infiltrating and harming the balance and harmony of Footlandia. As a result, Footlandia became known as a haven of culture and peace in a world of vulgarity and discord.
One day a four-toed citizen of Footlandia approached the five physicians. The citizen had discovered that a sacred mold that was considered a culinary delicacy in Footlandia was beginning to infect and sicken four-toed Footlandians. The mold, which had been touted as a mystical healing agent, was souring in the stomachs of the four-toed people and causing them great distress. The five five-toed physicians were surprised by the four-toed citizen’s report and promised to investigate. The five five-toed physicians asked their friends, none of whom were four-toed, and determined that the problem was not of any significance―at least not of the magnitude that would call for action. After all, the four-toed people were not in the majority and they seemed to be the only ones who were adversely affected by the mold, if, in fact, it was the mold that was causing the problem at all―a theory the five five-toed physicians looked upon with skepticism.
Over time the infectious sacred mold grew. A sizeable number of five-toed citizens became concerned about the impact the mold was having on the four-toed people, because they loved the four-toed people. To them, the number of toes was simply a number. Now four-toed and five-toed people alike petitioned the five five-toed physicians to remove the mold. But the five five-toed physicians would not budge. “The mold has always been sacred and has never bothered us,” they said. “We all know a particular four-toed person and that person does not seem to be infected,” they said.
So, the five five-toed physicians stood their ground and refused to investigate the mold.
One day news came to Footlandia that surrounding countries were having similar problems with the once-sacred mold. People of all numbers of toes were rising up to demand the removal of the mold. Researched revealed that the sacred quality of the mold was built upon a false reading of the true nature of the mold. Some countries destroyed the mold that was within their borders while others placed remnants of the mold in safely sealed containers so people could be reminded of the danger and never again fall prey to the poison within the mold.
In Footlandia, people rallied against the mold and refused to eat it, but the five five-toed physicians held their ground and continued to feast upon the mold. Discord became the norm in the once harmonious Footlandia, and tourists no longer visited. Children of four-toed and five-toed Footlandians alike left Footlandia when they became of age. Most of the remaining Footlandians who were not infected by the mold became forlorn and were rarely seen.
Over time the five five-toed physicians became increasingly ill, but they denied their sickness and continued to devour the toxic mold. Even when they looked in the mirror and saw their own decay, the five five-toed physicians refused to consider that the once sacred mold could be the cause of their demise.
The day finally came when the last citizens of Footlandia left the country. When the last of the five five-toed physicians died, the once sacred mold covered the physician’s body, as it had with the four previous ones.
Footlandia is now a desolate land of contamination where no one lives and nothing grows, except for the once sacred mold which thrives therein.
…and that’s the view from The Balcony.
Randy Weeks is a Licensed Professional Counselor and a Life Coach. He can be reached at randallsweeks@gmail.com.
