“Truth and mercy have met together; peace and justice have kissed.” (Psalm 85:10)
I am a coffee plant. I grew up in a lush green Island of Sri Lanka. No one knows my date of birth and where my parents came from. However, since my childhood I remember that everyone loved me and had a strong intimacy with me. They flavored their curries with my leaves and decorated their houses with my berries. When I was a teenager, the invaders came to my homeland and fell in love with me-my first love affair. They were mesmerized by my leaves and captivated with my berries. They started to spend more and more time with me. I was proud of my beauty, aroma and flavor. No one was like me. They always tried to take my berries with them and sent those to their homes back in Great Britain. I heard the stories of happiness, joy and appreciation of the invader’s families who used my berries to make their cup of coffee. My heart filled with bliss, knowing that I had been helping people across the globe.
Unfortunately, the invaders one day asked me to produce more berries. I told them that my mother earth could not feed me more to produce additional berries. I explained to them that more production is beyond the carrying capacity of my mother earth. But they got angry. The higher plateaus and peaks were rapidly and aggressively annexed and deforested, and the acreage under coffee doubled. They cut all other species of plants who were my childhood friends and cultivated coffee plants in their place. I cried for days and nights to see the cut parts of my friends. I became scared about my life. But I forgave the invaders with a thought, “We are all lovers, and we are all destroyers. We are all frightened and at the same time we all want terribly to trust. This is part of our struggle. We have to help what is most beautiful to emerge in us and to divert the powers of darkness and violence. I learn to be able to say, “This is my fragility, I must learn about it and use it in a constructive way.” (Jean Vanier)
Days passed and I realized that mother earth’s health had deteriorated. It was very hard for her to feed us all. She could not rest and worked hard to feed us. I felt the pains of my mother earth. But I forgave the invaders with teary eyes. Alas! Due to the invaders only focusing on monoculture coffee without shade, the conditions were created for a devastating fungus. This fungus destroyed my body. My leaves started falling down. My eyes saw one more scene of devastation. My heart was filled with pain and anger, but I forgave the invaders. And one day the British threw away our injured bodies and planted tea on that land. I was walking and walking with wounded feet and finally found a little place in a far-flung neighborhood to live the rest of my life and to heal from my trauma. There were images of violence in my brain, scars on my body and pains in my heart. But I forgave the invaders.
Then tsunamis swept across the Indian Ocean and the island of Sri Lanka suffered the most casualties. The killer waves took me to a new land. One new chapter of my traumatized life started. I brought memories of peace and violence to this new land. Eventually a stranger met me and started to spend more and more time with me. I thought that I found a healer and became more resilient. But he cheated on me. He didn’t respect my body. Ah……..He genetically modified me. Big leaves grew out of my body. I looked at myself and cried with pain. This was not body. Oh my God………..
Since then, I have been living but NOT living. Look at me. This is not my body-my aroma, my flavor and my color. I forgave that stranger because: I am MERCY. Who are you?
*I wrote this reflection, while painting coffee grounds with artist Cyndi Gusler. Both of us are passionate coffee lovers who also care deeply about the planet.