Kaleidoscope; a constantly changing pattern or sequence of elements.

Remember that decorated tube, with shards of mirror, glass, and colours, the source of hours of entertainment and delight in the curious age you call childhood? The old, forgotten toy from years of yore? Remember how beautiful it was to just forget the reality of your surroundings and lose yourself in a spectrum of colours and bliss hitherto unseen and unexperienced?

Now with your mind still on the memory, open your eye, not your physical eye, but your third one, the eye of an accepting mind, and look ever more closely at the world around you? What do you observe?

A kaleidoscope created to engage you, adhere to you, to entertain your child like wonder, and yet, meant to distract you from truly growing up.

It's just a tapestry woven from stories you have heard, read, or said. But at least as children, we learned to let go of the kaleidoscope, we found new toys, something different to engage us. After a point in time, our interests were exhausted.

But the difference between the toy and it's metaphor is attachment. We are dangerously trussed to this larger kaleidoscope. It has become the very code by which we live. We grow intolerant towards creativity. We hate the idea that the story could have another side. We tend to forget that this kaleidoscope was handed to us by mere mortals not very much unlike us and that their craftsmanship could have been faulty. Just because you inherited your ancestors' heirloom jewels doesn't mean you can't get your own new ones made. That isn't disrespect, it is just the end of an era, it is just a transition. The clay will gain new fingerprints when it changes hands. The young are supposed to be inquisitive. How long will you deny their wants? One day, the epoch will change. The young will have come of age. How long will you curb their thoughts? How long until the thoughts are deeds?

After all, the Kaleidoscope is but glass, the tapestry but mere thread. How long until it cracks or tears? How long until your way of life is reduced to mere abandoned memory in the unforgiving sands of time just because you chose to be orthodox, you chose to let it go unquestioned?