September 2007 - Posts

Gideon McGee's Dream: Chapter Nine
To speed the Earth’s birth and evolution into the span of a mere thirty minutes was a feat that no humanly-built computer could ever hope to duplicate, at least not the way Gideon was about to see it. He hung suspended in the blackness that filled the gap between the moon and Earth, while Zacharaias displayed before him the unimaginable power, splendor, and beauty that is the Earth. He watched as spiraling gases condensed to form a red-hot orb tens of thousands of miles in circumference. He watched as the orb cooled from the surface inward forming a molten core that could only release its constantly building pressure through vents to the surface called volcanoes.

The early Earth was dynamic and active, much like a toddler, changing constantly and exhibiting a ferocious temper. Gideon watched as the Earth took its first breath, forming an atmosphere that could support its immanent offspring. He saw the rains like he had never seen rain before, enough rain to fill several oceans and seas to a depth of five miles. The monsoons of the Far East were a mere foggy mist in comparison. It was as though the Earth itself was preparing to give birth.

Before Gideon’s eyes the surface changed from red to brown to green, while the oceans took on several hues of blue. He watched as the one land mass the scientists called Pangaea split apart and came together then split apart again. He saw India sail into and under the Asian coast, and, in a cataclysmic birthing process, the Himalayas appeared. He watched the Ice Ages come and go and Gideon thought of his own breathing. The American Southwest, once the bottom of a vast ocean, was thrust five thousand feet above sea level to unite what is now the North American Continent. The process was dynamic and ever changing, and, had it taken place one thousandth of one percent closer or farther from the sun, the Earth would never have been able to sustain life.

“You can look at it as a cosmic coincidence if you like,” Zack said, “but the Earth knew exactly where to be born in order to fulfill its function. It is conscious, Gideon, and deserves our respect and love for all it has done and continues to do for us.”

“That was wild, Zack. The Earth is perpetually moving and changing, just like us. It has more faces than we do. Thanks for showing me such a spectacular process that I had taken so much for granted.”

“You are most welcome, my friend. But there is something you must know. What I just showed you was based upon your own beliefs. In your reality everything is created anew in each and every moment and is reflective of your own beliefs. Enough already, we are off to visit with the Tree Clingers.”

“What’s so special about the Tree Clingers?” Gideon asked. He scratched his nose and wondered why it itched with no real body to support it.
“They are special in their ignorance of their potential. Their fear has forced them to choose safety rather than the life fully-lived. You will see in a moment. Since you are ready to be your own thought-pilot you may lead the way.”

“How do I get us there?”
“All you need to do is think of being in the Land of the Tree Clingers and you will be there. Nothing else is necessary.”
“Okay,” Gideon said. “Here goes.” He closed his eyes, although this was not necessary, thought of the Land of the Tree Clingers, although he didn’t know who or where they were, and then opened his eyes. Zacharaias was still by his side smiling broadly, while he and Gideon stood in the middle of what appeared to be a tropical rain forest.

“This is too weird,” Gideon said. “I think I like it better when we take a little time to get to where we’re going. It seems more real.”
Zack took Gideon by the hand. “Come,” he said. “Let us explore a bit.” They set off on a walking tour of the forest that was extraordinarily lush in both vegetation and wildlife. At first glance the flora and fauna appeared much like the varieties found on Earth, but there was one major difference.

“Do you notice anything odd about what you see, Gideon?” Zack asked, unable to control his incessant urge to teach.
Gideon thought for a moment, and then noticed a large snake, similar in every way to an Earthly python, grazing on thick green blades of jungle-grass. He saw what looked like a leopard lounging in the lower branches of a tree, feasting on broad dark-green leaves.

“I thought snakes and leopards eat meat?” Gideon said, sure of himself on this one.
“On Earth they do,” Zack replied. “Look! Over to your left.”
Gideon turned as directed and saw a lion, and what appeared to be a lamb, drinking side by side at a small forest stream.

“Why isn’t the lamb afraid of the lion?” Gideon asked.
“Because in the Land of the Tree Clingers there are no carnivores, no meat eaters. The lamb drinks beside the lion for she knows she is not part of the lion’s food chain. The lamb has no fear.”

“But if there are no meat eaters there are no predators. Why isn’t the Land of the Tree Clingers overrun with animals? With no natural enemies how is each species’ population kept in check?” Gideon remembered his studies of the animal kingdom and that the food chains kept each species’ population from exploding. By rights he and Zack should be waist deep in snakes and rats and all the other animals that breed in great numbers.

“Here the animals keep their numbers down through a less active and less bountiful reproductive system. For instance, that snake you saw eating grass normally lays 30-50 eggs a year on the Earth. But here, because there are no natural predators the female mates once every five years and lays only one egg.

“The Land of the Tree Clingers holds no trauma for all but one species,” Zack said, and then awaited the question he knew would come.
Gideon, growing in wisdom in his spirit form, surprised his guide. “That species would be the Tree Clingers, right?”

“Very good, Gideon.”
“Where are they? I can’t see up into the trees because the foliage is so dense. And now that I think of it, I haven’t seen any birds here.”
“There is only one winged species here, and, if you look closely, you can see their droppings under every large tree.”

Gideon looked at the base of a tree so large that two Mack trucks could drive through it side by side if a tunnel were carved for them to do so. At the bottom of the tree, spread out over a circular area the diameter of which Gideon estimated to be at least three hundred feet, were thousands of large greenish brown Tree Clinger droppings in various conditions of decay. The vegetation within the circle was more lush and verdant than anywhere else.

“Potent fertilizer,” Gideon joked, “but I’d hate to have one fall on me. They’re pretty big. The Tree Clingers must be huge birds.”
“The rest of the wildlife is most appreciative of the Tree Clingers for their droppings, although they’ve never set eyes on them. Let’s go up and pay them a visit.”

Gideon and Zack materialized at the top of the forest canopy, and still Gideon could not see the Tree Clingers.
“Where are they?” he asked. “They must be about the size of a human to produce such big droppings, but I can’t see them anywhere. I can’t see them from the forest floor, and I can’t see them from the forest canopy.”

“Remember, Gideon, the Tree Clingers are the most fearful species in the Universe, and what they fear the most is the unknown, better known as change. We must descend through the top layer of the canopy to find the Tree Clingers.”

As they descended at the speed of a falling snowflake the Tree Clingers appeared before them. There were thousands. The jungle canopy rose three hundred feet above the jungle floor and the entire world of the Tree Clingers took place between one hundred feet and two hundred feet, no higher, no lower. Their tribe was laid out similar to what Gideon visualized as an inverse Bell curve. In that middle one hundred feet they arranged themselves in the shape of a pyramid, a single Tree Clinger at the two-hundred foot boundary, and at least one hundred of them at the lower one-hundred foot boundary. All the other Tree Clingers were arranged in descending numbers as one ascended the tree, and all trees were laid out in the same pyramid form.

This hierarchal arrangement was odd enough, but nothing in comparison to what the Tree Clingers looked like. They were human in every respect but two. Their human legs tapered down to the ankle, and then, expecting to see human feet, Gideon saw bird’s feet large enough to wrap around the thickest tree branch. Growing from the middle of their shoulder blades was a pair of tri-fold white wings, much like that of a bat. A fine white skin covered the thin but strong wing bones that were tucked tightly against their backs. Gideon estimated that if they were fully expanded they would span twenty feet. Their arms and hands were human.

“Wow, I’d give anything for a set of wings like those. Do they only fly at night?” Gideon asked. “I don’t see any of them in the air.”
“Why don’t you ask them?” Zack replied.
“You mean they can see us and hear us?”
“As plainly as you can see and hear them.”

Gideon went to the branch upon which stood the top Tree Clinger. “Uh... excuse me, Sir...could I speak with you? My name is Gideon McGee.”
“My, oh my,” the top Tree Clinger moaned in a chirpy kind of voice. “More visitors. You come and you go, you come and you go, and we never remember what it was you came for, or what you had to say to us. We have wonderful memories for everything else, but we can’t retain any memory of your visits. You are like a dream to us. You say your name is Gideon?”

“Yes, and this is my guide, Zacharaias.”
The top Tree Clinger tore a broad leaf from the branch, and began munching. Gideon noticed that the branch immedi¬ately sprouted a new bud from which a replacement leaf began to grow. The Tree Clinger burped and introduced himself.
“I am Jester, King of this particular tree, dispenser of justice, and carrier of the Lore of this tribe, which happens to be the same lore as every other tree tribe.” King Jester reached for another leaf and offered it to his guests. His gesture being refused, he ate it himself, and then broke wind.

Gideon laughed. “Do you eat anything else beside these leaves?” he asked, unable to imagine a more boring diet.
This time King Jester manufactured a belch that no two Sumo wrestlers burping together could have matched. Gideon was impressed. It must be all that fiber, he thought.

“Eat anything else?” King Jester bellowed indignantly. “There is nothing else to eat. Look around you. Do you see anything other than these leaves?”
“Not here, but there are many varieties of vegetation down below,” Gideon replied.
“There is nothing but broad leaves all the way down to the lowliest dung-covered Tree Clingers. I challenge you to produce any other green thing between here and there.”

“You’re right, King Jester,” Gideon said. “Between you and the lowliest one-hundred there is nothing but green broad-leaves, but I noticed one hundred feet above you the top of your tree is lush with berries and flowers. Having been on the ground I can assure you that there’s a world of delicacies down there as well.”

“You are either crazy or sent by the devil herself. Our first Law as Tree Clingers is ‘A Tree Clinger shalt not trespass above two hundred feet’. Our second Law as Tree Clingers is ‘A Tree Clinger shalt not trespass below one hundred feet’. These are the Laws of our tribe.”
“Why don’t you just fly to the top of the tree and see for yourself?” Gideon suggested.

“We have everything we need here. Tree Clingers have never gone hungry; as you can see.” King Jester proudly patted his protruding belly. Gideon was reminded of his Algebra teacher Mr. Numer. “And what is this ‘fly’ you speak of?”
“You know,” Gideon said, flapping his arms, “Fly. Spread your wings and soar into the air. Fly!”


It occurred to King Jester that Gideon might be referring to the curse, the hideous growths that grew out of the backs of all Tree Clingers. “You’re not talking about these monstrosities, are you?” King Jester asked, pointing disdainfully to the wings on his back.
Gideon turned to Zacharaias, who merely shrugged his shoulders. “You’re doing fine, Gideon. Continue.”

“Those glorious appendages you refer to as monstrosities are called wings. They can take you places you’ve never imagined. You can soar into the wind and dance among the clouds. Is there not a one of you that has ever flown?” Gideon asked.
As carrier of the lore of the Tree Clingers, King Jester reached far back into his conscious mind, which was not far at all, before answering.

“There is something,” King Jester said softly, his chirp barely registering on Gideon’s ears. “Before our Law was written in bark, legend has it that one Tree Clinger, his name long forgotten, climbed to the topmost branch of the tree and never returned. For all I know his bones may be bleaching in the sun, entwined in the highest branches of this tree.”

“I saw no bones at the top of your tree. Did you, Zack?”
“I can assure you, King Jester,” Zack said. “There are no bones bleaching in the sun at the top of this tree.”
Gideon thought of another tack to take in enlightening King Jester. “Why did God give you hands?” he asked.
“To hold our daily leaves, to assist our young. There are many uses for hands, as you well know, having a pair of your own.”
“Why do you have eyes?”
“To see.”
“Why do you have ears?”
“To hear.”
“Why do you have teeth?”
“To grind our daily leaves.”

“Is there any part of your body, other than your wings, that has no purpose?” Gideon asked, sure that King Jester must be getting his point by now.
King Jester pondered this question for a moment, his eyes darting from body part to body part as if only by looking at them could he think of them. Finally after mentally and visually touring his Tree Clinger body he silently shook his head from side to side.

“Then why do you think you were given those two gossamer appendages on your back?” Gideon asked.

King Jester answered without hesitation. “Questions, questions. So many questions,” He chirped. “Any fool knows that they are our punishment for our First Mistake. Our Law tells us the first Tree Clinger was brazen enough to think that she was made of the same stuff as the Creator, that she and the Creator were one. She did not believe as we do that the Creator is there.” King Jester pointed upward. “And we are here. For this First Mistake of wrong-thinking, that we are more than we appear to be, all future generations of Tree Clingers were to be born with the curse. These grotesque encumbrances on our back are to remind us of our place.”

Gideon shook his head in despair. It was a lost cause trying to convince the King to change his mind, but then Kings, and all those who held power, always had the most to lose by new ideas, by changing the status quo. “Do you mind if we talk with some other Tree Clingers?” he asked.

“Be my guest. Yes, yes. I say, be my guest. But you won’t change any minds. No, indeed. You won’t. You won’t. We want for nothing, and, even if this curse could allow us to fly, as you say, why would anyone want to fly into the unknown? It is safe here.”

“Thank you for your time, King Jester,” Gideon said. He was happy to leave, as the pitch of the King’s chirp was beginning to make his ears ring.
“No problem. No, no problem at all. Oh, I should warn you and your friend to look out for falling dung. The lower you go the more likely you are to have some fall on you. It is an inevitable part of Tree Clinger life, but a small price to pay for our safety and comfort.”

It wouldn't be inevitable, Gideon thought, if you’d shed your fears and superstitions, and learn to fly.

The center section of the tree was the most befouled by Tree Clinger dung, for there was always someone above. The outermost branches were free from soiling, for in the pyramid design of their society no one perched above the outer branches. Being curious and not wanting Tree Clinger dung to fall through his spirit body, Gideon chose to speak to the lucky girl with no perchers above her. He moved to a middle level outer branch and struck up a conversation with the teenage girl, who, had it not been for her bird feet, would have made a great date back on Earth, wings or no wings. It did not pass Gideon’s attention that the Tree Clingers had no need for clothes, although umbrellas would have come in handy.

“My, oh my. More visitors,” the beautiful young Tree Clinger said. She eyed Gideon admiringly, and thought it a pity he had such strange feet, although she was impressed that he was not cursed. Her chirp was softer and had a mellifluous tone to it, more like a dove than a chipmunk.

Gideon introduced himself and Zacharaias. He learned the girl’s name was Falola, and that she was sixteen-years-old. Of course, the world of the Tree Clingers took only three hundred days to circle its sun, so in Earth-time she was only fourteen. Falola believed the same confining drivel about her wings as did King Jester, but she seemed more curious than the King.

“How do you know about wings and flying?” Falola asked.
“Where I come from the skies are full of flying creatures. We call them birds, and we envied their ability to fly so much that we made machines to take us into the sky. If I had your wings, Falola, I’d be off this dung-covered tree and into the air in a heart beat.”

Falola looked up and saw the sun was almost directly overhead. “Oh my, oh my. In just a few minutes my time at the outer edge of my branch will be over. I’m enjoying our talk so much. Would you move in with me? It’s not as bad as you might imagine. We Tree Clingers are quite used to it.”

“Why do you have to move in? Aren’t your places permanently assigned?”
“To a branch, yes,” Falola explained. “But there is movement along the branch. Time on the outermost edge, where you find me now, is awarded for meritorious behavior. Curiosity is frowned upon, and asking questions is definitely taboo. Since I went an entire week without asking a question or being curious about anything I was awarded half a day at the outer position.”

“And I assume the middle positions are for offenders of these taboos,” Gideon guessed.
“Yes. Unfortunately I spend much of my time there, but the broad leaves are as abundant as the dung. So I never go hungry, and it rains at least once a day. Showering is our greatest pleasure, as you may have guessed.

“Sometimes I think I’m defective or must be a direct descendant of the maker of the First Mistake, for I am curious all the time. I ask questions about everything. I don’t know how I went a week without asking one, but I really wanted to experience the outer position, just once.”

A revolutionary in the making, Gideon thought. He turned to Zack and whispered his plan. Zacharaias agreed, and Gideon turned back to Falola.
“Falola,” Gideon began, “you have an opportunity here that may never come your way again. And being the dreamer that you are, you’ll regret it the rest of your life if you don’t take it.”

“Take what, Gideon?” Falola asked, a puzzled look clouding her hazel brown eyes.
“Zack and I want to spread your wings. That’s all, just spread your wings. None of your fellow Tree Clingers will do it for you, for their hearts are filled with laws, rules, and fear, all based on beliefs, not truths. I promise you’ll not be hurt. You may have to spend some time in the middle for it, but that’s nothing you’re not used to and, as you said, it rains every day. What do you say?”

All of her life Falola had felt different than the other Tree Clingers. There was something in her that wanted more out of life than eating broad leaves and washing dung from her body, something that longed to know if there was a world outside the Tribal Tree. She was afraid, but her longing overpowered her conditioned judgment.
“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” she asked. “No one has ever done this before.” Her bird claws began to loosen their grip on the branch.

“One Tree Clinger has. You know the legend,” Gideon said.
“You mean the legend of the Tree Clinger that climbed to the top of the tree and disappeared?” Falola asked.
“Yes, but he didn’t just vanish into thin air. He spread his wings and discovered the world. He realized his beliefs were not truths.”

Falola looked around and noticed several Tree Clingers breaking the curiosity taboo. They were looking directly at Gideon, Zack and her. Maybe there are others that think like me, she thought.

Falola took a deep breath. “Okay. Middle of the tree, here I come. Stretch away!”
Gideon and Zacharaias slowly stretched Falola’s satin-white wings. Not being fully grown, her wingspan fell four feet short of Gideon’s twenty-foot estimate. It was enough, however, to catch a gust of wind and lift Falola off her branch.

“Don’t be afraid,” Gideon said calmly. “Zack and I are right here with you. Trust yourself above all else.”
“But, I am afraid,” Falola said. Her body trembled, but her face belied the excitement she felt. Ten Tree Clingers, their curiosity getting the best of them, earned a place in the middle of the tree.

“Move your wings up and down,” Gideon instructed the fledgling flier. “Catch the wind and live the life you were meant to live.”
Slowly at first, but then with increasing confidence, Falola began to use her wings. Since she had no idea how to maneuver, Gideon and Zack guided her to the top of the tree.

“From here there is nothing in your way, Falola,” Zack said. “Learn to use your wings and then return to bring enlighten¬ment to the rest of the Tree Clingers.”
“But they’ll never take me back. I’ve violated every rule of our Law.”

“It will not be easy, but a life fully lived never is. Many will curse your name, for they fear change, but some will learn from your example, and break the bonds of their fear. They will finally learn that what they took as truths were belief driven; true for them, but not a cosmic truth.”

Falola hesitated only long enough to say her thanks and to attend to one minor bodily function before spreading her wings once more, and soaring into the Land of the Tree Clinger sky. King Jester, for the first time in his life, experienced the distinct displeasure of being the recipient of what he had for years rained down upon his fellow Tree Clingers below him.
Posted 11 September 07 01:06 from 21st Century Reality | 0 Comments   
Gideon McGee's Dream: Chapter Eight
The Diamond Universe was much like Gideon’s own, but like any twin there were many subtle differences. It occurred to Gideon that he knew the name of the Diamond Universe, but didn’t know the name of his own, so he asked his guide.

“They all belong to you,” Zack replied.
Maybe they all belong to me, but I live in another Universe. What’s the name of the Universe in which I live?”
Zack smiled. “You live in them all, Gideon, but if you mean the one where you lie at the bottom of Round Pond, it is called the Gold Universe.”

A wave of goose bumps crawled across Gideon’s ethereal flesh as his mind struggled with the information he had just received. It was more startling than any of the other surprises Zack had pulled from his magician’s hat. “Are you telling me I’m not the only me?” Flies would have had easy access to Gideon McGee's mouth had there been any to take advantage of its gaping yaw.

“There are as many Gideons as there are Universes,” Zack chuckled, delighted in the effect his disclosure created.
“And I suppose there are an infinite number of Universes.”

Zack smiled again and nodded. “Each one of you in some way influences the rest. There are an infinite number of possibilities that your life could have lived out, and each of these actualizes in another Universe.”

The soul is no puny thing, Gideon remembered Zack saying. “Is that why you said I’m a spotlight of the beam?” he asked.
“But remember, you are the beam as well. Soul lives out all of life’s possibilities in physical reality and non-physical reality. This is why I said the soul in no puny thing,” Zack said after having read Gideon’s mind. “Come! We need not concern ourselves with this right now, but if you will look to your left at approximately nine o’clock you will see a most familiar sight.”

Their speed was slow enough so the heavenly bodies held their form and color. Gideon looked as he was directed, and exactly where Zack had pointed was the planet Earth and its single moon.
“I’m going to wake up and all of this is going to be a dream,” Gideon said. “Is that what I think it is?” Gideon pointed to the planet suspended like a jewel in front of him.

“Each Universe is an image of every other. What differs is the soul activity that takes place within each. What you see is Earth, but Earth as it was in the year 520 BC. The Land of What is Good? What is Bad? will be found in China of that year.”

“And I’ll bet there’s a lesson to be learned there,” Gideon said sarcastically. His tone and words were said out of habit, but his feeling of excitement was new.
“There is meaning in everything, if we but pay attention,” Zack answered. “There are no such things as coincidences or accidents. Every event has meaning if your eyes are open to see, and your ears ready to hear. We will be observers in the Land of What is Good? What is Bad? The people will not be able to see us. It will be like watching a movie except we’ll be interwoven into the scene like invisible thread.”

Before heading for their specific destination Zacharaias took Gideon on a tour of the Earth, as it had been 2500 years earlier. The layout of the planet was much as it is today, with twenty-five centuries being nothing more than a single cosmic breath in terms of geological change.

“Notice anything different?” Zack asked, as they thought-traveled from continent to continent.
“If I had to sum it up,” Gideon said, scratching his chin, and marveling at his heightened ability to think, “it would have to be the effect 2500 years of civilization had on the planet.”
“And what does that look like?”
“The air is as clear as a pane of glass, even on the east coast of North America. And the forests look so different.”
“How do you mean different?” Zack asked, prodding his pupil to answer his own questions.

“The trees are older,” Gideon answered. “They’re so much bigger and taller than the big ones the timber industry cuts down today. They almost seem wise, as though they’ve actually absorbed the history they’ve lived through. Looking at them reminds me of the Gatekeeper, but they’re only trees, aren’t they?”
Zack smiled at the blossoming wisdom his charge was exhibiting.

“What are you smiling at?” Gideon asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Zack replied, regaining his composure. “Describe to me what you see.”
Zack was teaching by asking questions, for he knew Gideon already had the answers deep within him.

“I see paradise,” Gideon said. “Is this what you meant when you said, ‘Paradise is in front of our noses, but we’re too blind to see it?’”
Zack remained still, and in his stillness answered Gideon’s question.

“Does it seem to you that I’m getting smarter?” Gideon asked. “I mean... I don’t think I’d be able to answer your questions before I went to the bottom of Round Pond. I always thought I was stupid.”

“In your Spirit-form you have no hang-ups, as you call them. Your energy flows freely, and you are able to tap into your ancient wisdom. After all, you were there at the beginning with the Creator. This increase in wisdom happens gradually, of course, but I can see that even in the eye-blink of time we’ve been together, you have begun to tap into your source.”

“I thought it was something like that,” Gideon lied.
“I see you are also clinging to some of your old ways, my young friend,” Zack said, referring to the lie. “No matter. This is all quite natural.”
Gideon would have turned red had he been in his physical body. Being caught in a lie was always humiliating for him, and he had lied often.

“Is there an Earth somewhere that is in the future?” Gideon asked. “It would be cool to have my own crystal ball.”
“You pick the year, and we’ll take a side trip after visiting of the Land of What is Good? What is Bad?”

Gideon and Zacharaias finished their Earth tour of the year 520 BC, and headed for central China and the farm of Wu Li. His was one of several small farms in a fertile river-valley that Wu Li’s family had worked for twenty generations. The emperor allowed them enough food to support themselves, and enough profit for Wu Li to purchase the first horse his family ever owned. At forty years of age, Wu Li was growing old, for in the year 520 BC the average life span rarely exceeded forty-five years. Likewise his horse, a gray mare in her twen¬tieth year, was also growing old. Other than his eighteen-year-old son, who was his only living heir, the gray mare was Wu Li’s most prized possession. His wife died the year before, and in those days wives were possessions.

Zack explained all of this to Gideon as they approached Wu Li’s farm under the glow of a full moon. Despite the moon’s radiance the stars glistened brighter than the sun after leaving the darkness of a noon matinee. His heart ached at the recognition that his parents’ generation and the few preceding it succeeded in spewing enough poison into the atmosphere to change the heavens from the brilliance of a 100-watt bulb to that of a 15-watt night-light. Zacharaias drew him out of his thoughts by directing his attention to a small corral where Wu Li kept his beloved gray mare.

The corral was larger than necessary for one old horse, but Wu Li’s love for the mare overrode the more practical considerations of maintaining a lone horse on the Emperor’s land. The more land devoted to keeping the horse, the less land available for farming. When Wu Li built the corral large enough for ten horses his neighbors told him it was a bad thing to devote so much land to a single horse. Wu Li responded by saying, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”

The fencing of the corral was weathered and weak. Time and its allies, the weather, the sun, and the insects, joined forces to soften the once strong wood planking. Gideon noticed Wu Li’s horse scratching its withers against a single creaking cross-beam that snapped under the pressure. The bony old mare stood there at first, not knowing what to do with her newly found freedom. Once the taller grasses outside her enclosure caught her attention however, she was quick to leave the familiar confinement of her corral.

“Isn’t there anything we can do, Zack?” Gideon asked, surprised at his willingness to help.
“We are here to observe and to learn. There is nothing we can do.”

Wu Li woke with the morning’s light and was quick to discover his loss. To Gideon’s surprise he seemed unconcerned. By mid-day word of Wu Li’s great loss spread throughout the valley, and his neighbor came offering his condolences. Chou Lo was ten years younger than the graying Wu Li, and decades less wise, for indeed, all in the valley considered Wu Li a sage.

“I’ve come to offer my condolences, Wu Li,” Chou Lo said. “Such a terrible loss. Just terrible.”
Wu Li continued working his field in silence, thinking about Chou Lo’s words before he spoke. “Who knows what is good and what is bad, Chou Lo? Surely I do not.”
Chou Lo scratched his head. Certainly, he thought, Wu Li must be losing his mind, for everyone knows that the loss of a horse is a bad thing. He said good-bye, and walked the mile back to his farm.

Wu Li was grateful to have his strong son by his side, for without the old gray mare he would not have been able to complete the day’s work alone. He might have been able to in his younger days, but certainly not now. The hard day’s work was better than any modern-day sleeping pill, and that night Wu Li and his son slept more soundly than ever before.

As Wu Li rose the next morning from his bamboo mat he heard strange noises coming from the recently vacated corral. He shook his son awake, and out they went to investigate. Any other man would have trumpeted Wu Li’s discovery throughout the valley. His son was not surprised at his father’s reaction upon discovering the return of his beloved mare, along with nine wild young horses.

“They must have followed the old mare home, Father,” the son said excitedly. “What good fortune.”
Wu Li turned slowly to his beaming son. “Who knows what is good and what is bad? Repair the corral, my son. There is much work to be done.”

Again word spread quickly through the fertile valley, this time of Wu Li’s exceptionally good luck. Surely the Gods were pleased with Wu Li, they thought, for only the gods could have bestowed such a boon.
The new horses were useless however, until they were broken and trained. To Wu Li’s son fell this most difficult task, a chore he had no familiarity with. However, having great common sense, inherited from his father, he chose the smallest of the herd of nine to train first. But even a small horse is far stronger than a big man. In no time Wu Li’s son was thrown against the corral fence and landed with such force that his right arm snapped on impact. This was a disaster, for Wu Li would be sorely pressed to keep up the farm until his son’s recovery, a fact not unknown by his neighbor, Chou Lo.

As usual, when such events occur, word spread of the disaster that befell poor Wu Li, like burning prairie grass. His neighbor, Chou Lo, once again came bearing condolences.
“Excuse me for being so bold, Wu Li,” Chou Lo began, “but this is most horrendous. Yes, most horrendous indeed. You are old, and now you have no help with the farm. If you cannot keep up your quota, the Emperor’s tax collector will throw you to the dogs. Yes. This is very bad, very bad indeed.”

Wu Li smiled, and his eyes twinkled knowingly. “Chou Lo,” he said, “I have told you this truth before, yet you insist upon seeing everything as good or bad. I will tell you again that it is all mixed together. Who knows what is good and what is bad?"
Chou Lo shook his head and looked at his neighbor Wu Li as though his brains just exited his body through his ears. “If you need help,” he said, “I can spare you my number-three son. You are my friend even though I think you are crazy sometimes.”

“Thank you, Chou Lo. You are a good friend. I will call on number three son if I can no longer do for myself. You must excuse me now, for there is much work to be done by this old man.”

Chou Lo began his trek home, wondering how there could be any good in the broken arm of Wu Li’s son. The answer came the next day. While Wu Li with his two arms and old body, and his son with his one arm and young body were tending the fields they spied in the distance a cloud of dust. Slowly, at the pace of a walking man, the cloud of dust approached the two laborers. By the time the cloud was within half a mile of Wu Li and his son, they knew it was the Emperor’s army on the march. They also knew the army was looking for conscripts to fill its depleted ranks.

A captain of the guard rode up to them on a black steed, twice the size of the old gray mare. He towered above Wu Li and his son, while his mount stomped its feet and snorted his disdain. “In the name of our glorious emperor you are commanded forthwith to present your sons for service in the army of the realm.” With a disgusted look the captain eyed the old man and his crippled son.
“I have only one son,” Wu Li said, “and he stands here by my side.”

“The army has no use for a one-armed man,” the captain said, spitting at the feet of Wu Li, and turning his attention to the corral and the ten horses. “In your son’s stead the army will take your herd of horses. I will send my men to gather them. Good day.”

As the surly captain was about to ride off he hesitated, remembering tales of a sage that had nine young horses and one old gray mare. Knowing that life in battle was at best tenuous he turned back to the old farmer. “I have a question for you, old man, and if you can answer it to my satisfaction you may keep your old nag.”

Wu Li bowed gracefully before the captain who asked, “before I go into battle with my enemies I wish you to teach me about heaven and hell.”
Wu Li looked up at the captain and spit on the ground. “How dare you, of all people, ask me to teach you about heaven and hell. You are a filthy bully, with blood on your sword. You stink. You make me want to retch on the ground from the smell of you. I, teach you of heaven and hell? Why, I doubt that I could teach a lout like you anything. Now get your body out of my sight!”

The captain was stunned that any man would speak to him in such a fashion, let alone such a small and insignificant peasant. His fury rose to a pitch beyond his control. He was speechless with rage and drew his bloody sword and raised it above his head in preparation to slay the wise old farmer.
As his arms began their descent Wu Li looked up and said softly, “That is hell.”

The sword ceased its downward arch as the captain heard and then understood Wu Li’s meaning. He was overwhelmed at the sacrifice Wu Li was willing to make to show him the meaning of hell, and his heart filled with compassion and gratitude. He was finally at peace.

“And,” Wu Li said, about to finish the teaching, “that is heaven.”
The old gray mare was left in the corral, and Wu Li smiled as the captain sped back to his men, who within a fortnight, would all be killed in a bloody battle. “Who knows what is good and what is bad?” Wu Li said as the captain disappeared over the nearest hill.

* * *

“Do you remember the morning after the ice storm?” Zack asked as he and Gideon whisked around the Earth of 520 BC one last time.
“Yes,” Gideon replied. “It seems if I put my attention to it I can remember everything that ever happened to me. Why is that?”

“Because in this form you are no longer bound by your beliefs. In your physical form you believe you are separate and that your knowledge and memory are finite.
“But, getting back to the ice storm, you were complaining to Simon how lucky he was and how unfair life was to you. Do you remember?”

“Yes. Simon told me I always see the dark side of things, and then used the ice storm as an example of how one event, the ice storm, could be both bad and good. He said he almost got killed driving home in it the night before, but that in the light of day it transformed into a thing of great beauty.”

“Sometimes,” Zack said, “the dark side or the light side of an event chooses not to show its face for many years, and only by looking back in retrospect can one see the opposite aspect. You can be sure, however, that if you pay attention there is meaning in everything. Good and bad is relative to the perceiver in the moment.”
“When does the bad rise out of the good?” Gideon asked.

“The bad does not rise out of the good, for everything has meaning within your intent for coming into this physical focus. It is your beliefs that attach judgment to your experiences. Good is as much a judgment as is bad. If you decide to return to your body, pay attention to what you actually do, not to what you think about what you do.

“Now, enough of my jogging your memory for the moment. Would you like to see one of the Earths of your future?”
“What do you mean, ‘one of the Earths?’” Gideon asked.
“Just as your soul or your greater self desires to live out all of life’s possibilities, so does the Creator desire to live out all pos¬sibilities of each Universe.”

Zack noticed a puzzled look on Gideon’s face. “For instance, there is an Earth where the Nazis won World War II. There is an Earth where Jesus was not crucified, but died the natural death of old age. Christianity developed very differently in that world. The possibilities, as you might have guessed, are endless. Each world exists as a projected probability in each moment. The Creator is perfect in that all probabilities are lived out.”

“How about showing me the Earth fifty years from now?” Gideon asked.
“Which one?” Zack asked, laughing.
“How about the one where I didn’t fall through the ice of Round Pond and went on this tour.”
“Hold on then and I’ll have you there in a thought.”

Zacharaias was right, for no sooner had Gideon thought of the Earth fifty years in the future than it appeared before him, but from the vantage point of the moon. The Earth looked as magnificent as it did when Buzz Aldrin, the Apollo 11 astronaut, took his famous picture of Earth rising over the moon’s horizon back in July of 1969.
“When seen from this distance,” Zack said, “the Earth looks like an oasis in the vast void of space. You can see no national boundaries that have divided mankind for centuries. From here the Earth is One. It is only your beliefs that separate. Let us go closer and see what this probable future has to offer.”

It leaped out at him like a soundly hit baseball in a 3-D movie. There was little or no human activity taking place on the daytime side of the planet. “Where is everybody?” he asked.

“In this version of the future, humans took no action to eliminate hydroflurocarbons and believed they would destroy your ozone layer.”
“Hydro what?” Gideon asked.
“Hydroflurocarbons. That’s the chemical agent in aerosol cans that poked a big hole in the ozone layer of your atmosphere. There are several versions of the Earth where hydroflurocarbons were never used, for humans never employed chemicals without a thorough environmental-impact study. In this rendition you see the effect of environmental disregard when you believe that you are victims and not the co-creators that you really are. The ozone is so depleted here that it became fatal to be out in the sun without highly specialized and expensive protection.”

“So human beings have to stay indoors forever in this future?” Gideon asked.
“No. They adapted as they always do in a crisis. They sleep during the day and live their waking lives at night.”
“What about the animals?”

“Many species died off, the rest adapted. Insects, of course, mutated quickly and became more pesky than ever.”
“Gross,” Gideon said, envisioning a world infested with rat-sized cockroaches, and mosquitoes as big as sparrows. “How will humans change if they can’t be out in the sunlight?”

“Well, the evolution of this specific point in time can, of course, go off in infinite directions. External change is always a reflection of your internal subjective state. But, if this branch fails to heed the signs its environment presents then they will eventually develop eyes much like an owl’s. They will be blinded by sunlight, and be driven underground by their increasingly poisoned atmosphere. They will filter their oxygen through miles of Earth to their underground burrows. While they are underground the Earth will heal itself, but by then life in the sun will merely be seen as a childish myth.”

"You mean the Earth will turn into a paradise again?” Gideon asked.
“Paradise is a relative term, but yes, by that time humans will no longer be able to adapt to living aboveground. Their machines will continue to harvest crops grown on the surface, but they will remain in the bowels of the Earth, and live their lives much like moles. All Universes are ripe with possibilities, and the human species is the only one in all of creation that has been given the freedom of choosing its own evolution. In this case the Earth had no choice but to drive humans underground, but ultimately it was the humans who chose this for themselves.”

“How can the Earth have a choice?” Gideon asked, forgetting his earlier discussion with Zack about the living Earth. “Isn’t the Earth just a thing?”
“How quickly you have forgotten, Gideon. The Earth is as alive as you and I. The cosmos is conscious. Our lives and the Earth’s take different forms, but each is alive. The Earth, as a an aspect of the Creator, has chosen to live the creative life of a host and therefore is responsive to its guests. Its primary conscious function is to provide a home and sustain the life that has chosen to reside upon it. You can hardly argue that everything on the Earth was born of the Earth.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s alive and can think,” Gideon said, being unable to stretch his mind as much as Zack was asking him to.
“It doesn’t, eh?” Zack asked, arching his white eyebrows. “I’m going to give you the privilege of watching what your computers have only vaguely imagined. You are going to see one billion years of the life of the entity that loves you as much as your own mother. You are about to see the birth, the growing pains, and the constant evolution of your Mother Earth condensed into the span of one half of one hour. Stand back and behold....THE EARTH.”
Posted 06 September 07 09:22 from 21st Century Reality | 0 Comments