Lessons of
Meaning
I live in a
different world than you. I know many people wouldn’t understand how this came
to be, and you know, I don’t know either. Isn’t that funny of things that are
different, what we do and know?
I once picked up a turtle walking toward the shade. My lesson tablet said that I should not
interfere with the turtle because he was not mine, and as an animal in place, I
would deny another being of prey his or her lunch or him of his muscle.
Many
lessons come onto my tablet as I roam about the day. The learning circle only taxed us as so much.
They fear that if they did more, we wouldn’t remember, or we would mix them
up. When scribbling letters became a
chore, we would stop seeing the shapes of reality. Abstraction littered the human mind.
In the old
days, humans ran wild and would break bones over words. They called their talents wars, all of them:
the war of a dancer, the war on food, the war on war itself. Their minds buzzed with activity. After a time, some became clearer but
couldn’t hold his ideas like they couldn’t handle the toxic drink they once
called alcohol.
So there it
is, less is more. The purer our thoughts
were, the safer we were, the better our world became. I’ve seen humans, the old type. They are on a
reserve where they live in groups called tribes. We allow them to plot, to
kill, to be back to the savage nature mother nature gave us, the viewpoint of
nature and lessons that they had.
They often
tried survival of the fittest, a comparison of course. In their eyes, blind as a rock, they tinted
the philosophy with themselves. The
world lost consciousness for many years before humans, our kind of humans, but we
developed lessons. We gave meaning to life and itself.
The other
humans hated our reason. To them, the
word “justice” meant to fight over words for some gain, often furtively.
My tablet lit
up as I approached the learning circle. No
eyes judged me. They read their tablets as the circle leader meditated with the
group, going to a higher consciousness to think.
“What is
late?” I sat down and folded my legs. I
thought for a moment. “Late” means after. It pertained to the end of an
event. I thought of relevance. Today, I
am late and past time. The tablet read my mind.
Like the others, I closed my eyes and began to ascend past the waking
world.
In front of
me, I witnessed colors spread out into shapes, into advanced letters and
numbers. I saw lessons, tasted them, and I felt the warmth of pure thought in
my mind.
The teacher
opened his eyes one me. I saw the deep,
dark brown, and I felt a heavenly flow of understanding.
The other
humans were unable to reach such a high state.
Love was tangled with lust. I
felt no lust for him, no yearning. The
desire to reproduce lay dormant within us.
Only the red moon could melt us together to create another life, to grow
another soul and consciousness.
The teacher
began to drive away, but he urged me to follow.
I slowly let him hold my existence until we made it to the other
humans.
I saw an
arrow fly through the air in a fight. One of the paler men fell to the ground
and screamed in agony at death. To us,
death was as natural as life, given to us so that our souls could create more
with knowledge and evolution, not stay in a state that would poison experience
and understanding.
I saw the
assailant smile as his brother bled to death.
I thought of the turtle and the meanings and lessons in this world. I
could not save them from another’s lesson.
They refused the tablets and meaning.
More people came to the clearing and cried over the death. They chased the guilty man and made him die
of the same fate. Arms held arms and
tears fell to the ground.
I watched
the soul release and fly into a cloud. The instructor pulled me back some.
I felt myself
speeding to the moment.
My tablet
flashed, “And what do you think his lessons in a cloud shall he learn? Do you
remember yourself?”
“He will
learn that even as he flies high above the realm of creatures, and he can watch
the world and see the nature of the planet but be unable to harm it,” I
responded.
The teacher left me and entered another student’s journey. I looked up to the clouds gliding, changing.
