Bearhug – Part 2

Creative Commons License

by DCH Park

Bear Hug by terren in Virginia https://www.flickr.com/photos/8136496@N05/2257963106/

Bear Hug by terren in Virginia https://www.flickr.com/photos/8136496@N05/2257963106/

He looked around. He was at work. He remembered this job. It was from several years ago. He was wearing a suit and tie and talking with a friend from school. They were in grad school together. They were both working as part time consultants in one of the prestigious firms downtown. They both had the same title but he had been in the job longer and had more responsibility.

Keith, his friend, had just told him his hourly rate. It was almost double his own rate. He hadn’t asked for the information. Keith had just volunteered it.

At a loss for words, he thought back to the interview process. He had submitted his resume and gone through several interviews – all standard for graduate students looking for part time work. The company had made an offer which was a little better than the going rate. He’d accepted, thinking that he was doing well. Now Keith had told him that he had been offered almost twice as much to do the same job. It didn’t seem right.

“That much? Really?”

“Yeah. Their idea of ‘fair compensation’ is really whacked. I thought you should know.”

“Thanks,” his head was still reeling. He had heard of this sort of thing but he hadn’t knowingly encountered it before. Here it was in “white collar America.” The only thing that he could put his finger on to “account” for the difference was race. That didn’t seem germane but the difference was something to consider. He wondered what else they were hiding from him. Then a thought occurred to him. How well did he know Keith? Maybe Keith was lying to him so that he would say something and get into trouble.

On the other hand, if Keith hadn’t been lying, he didn’t want to say anything that might hurt his friend. He wondered if secrecy benefited anyone in the end. Wasn’t transparency better?

Keith asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he responded.

The sense of injustice and indignity still burned in him. He remembered the incident clearly, feeling immersed in it all over again. At the same time, he watched it unfold as if it was happening to someone else. He was in it at the same time he was outside of it, watching the tableau unfold. Did his attachment to his emotions keep his memory alive somehow?

He wondered if there was anything else to remember. He opened himself to whatever else there might be. Suddenly the scene changed.

He found himself in a corridor on a bright day wearing different clothes. Instead of a suit, he wore jeans, a loose, cotton shirt open at the collar, and sneakers. He could also see straps and feel them digging into his shoulders. He was in high school. It was the end of the day and buses were lined up waiting for kids. There was shouting and energetic bustling and rushing about.

In contrast to the noise made by the kids, the buses stood in a silent row. He left the corridor and walked out to his bus. The books in his pack dug into his back, threatening to pull him over. The image of him bending backwards under the weight of his pack kept playing through his mind…

The books were dense and bulky and heavy – too heavy and bulky to carry them all under his arm but he needed them all for his homework. That was why he needed the backpack. Nevertheless there were kids who didn’t seem to have many books at all. How did they do it, he wondered.

He found his bus, climbed into it, went to a seat about three-quarters of the way back from which he could watch most of the activity, and sat down. He thought about putting his pack on the seat next to him but thought better of it and put it on the floor, between his feet, instead.

He surreptitiously looked at the floor before he lowered his pack the last inch. He always wondered if the floor was clean and what had been thrown on it. This one looked clean. The school bus always did. Nevertheless, he speculated on what might have been spilled or thrown on the floor and what might be in the grit that he always expected to find there and never did.

Thoughts about the floor left him almost as soon as he felt the nylon fabric of the backpack come to rest. He knew that although the bus would fill up to capacity before it left, many kids lived within a mile of the school and would be getting off soon. There would be plenty of free seats shortly.

He watched the other kids climbing onto the bus with a sense of uninvolved interest, the way an anthropologist might people-watch. He noted the fashions they wore and how what they wore and how much energy they put into their appearance seemed to be dictated by what they considered important. He idly mused about using those differences to bring people closer together rather than to define and vilify an out-group. This led him to feel into the nature of vilification. How does one vilify? What does it mean to vilify? Does it change things? Is there a difference between what someone else does to you and what you do to yourself?

Soon enough, the bus was filled, the doors were closed, and it rolled off with all the others. It kept its place in line to the edge of the school property and then turned left at the corner while the one behind it went in a different direction. The bus went down the main street for a short distance and then turned right to go to its first stop.

About halfway up the hill, it stopped on a quiet street to let several kids off. The leaves of trees from opposite sides of the street mingled overhead as their branches merged, making a dappled tunnel that the bus rolled down. It made several more stops as it wended its way through the neighborhood emerging on the other side of the hill. It turned right onto a major road and traveled a short distance before turning left into another neighborhood.

The bus was less than half full when it made the turn, making it easy to see everyone left. There was a girl sitting a few seats ahead of him and across the aisle. Her jet black hair bobbed and bounced with the bus and her head movements. He couldn’t see her face but he was sure it was her. She was sharing her seat with another girl. The two of them sat on a lone island in a sea of empty seats. She was chatting away with her friend, apparently oblivious to the bus and hadn’t noticed him or maybe she had and thought it wasn’t worth acknowledging him.

He gazed at her and imagined touching her hair. He remembered trying to begin a conversation with her many times. He had tried to be sincere and show her that he thought about things deeply and strove for original thoughts. He indicated that he appreciated originality and creativity and asked her what she thought but she didn’t appreciate that. It only seemed to make her laugh more.

Once he had worked up the courage to slip a poem of his into her locker between classes. Later he found her reading the poem aloud to her friends. She saw him and pointed him out, laughing. He melted back into the rushing hallway, feeling confused.

He stopped himself and felt into his memory again. It wasn’t shame, anger, fear, or numbness that he felt. It was confusion. This surprised him. Perhaps his emotion had changed, perhaps he felt something different in retrospect than what he did at the time, but this was the feeling he’d brought back. He decided to accept his feelings for what they were and continue his exploration of what came up.

He felt into why he was confused. He sought to feel the whole thing, not just the most poignant parts of what he felt. He realized that he couldn’t feel the whole thing as long as he was focused on part of the whole so he opened himself to all of the confusion. He watched himself feel one thing after another. It was curious to witness himself feeling it and feel it at the same time. But he was vast, even if he only thought about himself that way in jest.

His goal was to get beyond the emotion so he could see what else it brought up and the quickest, maybe the only, way to the other side was to go through it. Without getting beyond the emotion, he knew, anything that came up would probably be incomplete or misleading. Interestingly, witnessing himself feel was enough. It allowed him to feel the whole thing.

Once he got past the image of the dark-haired girl and what it brought up, he found himself walking through a mall with a different former girlfriend. It was long after grad school and they had been living together for several years. They had met in a different city and she had followed him when he moved. That had been several years earlier. Now, she was in the midst of breaking up with him.

“So on a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate him?”

She protested, “I’m not very good with numbers!”

“I understand,” he pushed. “What would you say? What’s the first number that comes to mind when you think of him?”

“Eleven!” She smiled when she said it and a glowing warmth vibrated in her eyes and her voice.

Bearhug saw all this and felt the change in her energy. “What would you say I am?”

“I’m not good at numbers!”

“Just say it.”

“Six.”

He was expecting an eight, considering her obvious infatuation. Maybe she would rate him a seven, he thought, but rating him a six seemed cruel. He didn’t even think it was true. He guessed that she would have rated him higher when they first met or when she left her friends and home to be with him. They walked in silence for a while.

He remembered when they had first met. They were both tutors in their graduate programs, he in math, she in English and writing. She had seemed so poised and exotic, with her helmet of straight black hair and chocolate skin, that he had literally found it hard to breathe. He wooed her with flowers, books, and poetry. At one point, he left her a single red rose with a card that said, “For you, an American Beauty.”

Now she was characterizing him to be half as attractive as someone whom she had met in the remedial reading class she taught at the local college. His brain had been damaged chemically when he was a fetus and as an adult he was mildly retarded. This was the person whom she swooned over.

He let the tide of anger and rejection wash over him. Would he always be rejected and betrayed by the ones he loved? Was he missing something? Was there some clue or combination of hints that indicated that someone was trustworthy?

He took a deep breath as that emotion receded like the waves he used to dive under. He floated in the calm between waves. It was like the pause between breaths.

He suddenly recalled a scene in the middle of winter. There was a trace of snow on the ground and patches of ice were on the roadway. He was standing at the corner, waiting for his bus. He was in the first year of high school. There were several other kids at the bus stop, including the dark-haired girl, though he hadn’t spoken to her yet in this memory.

Most of the kids were known for smoking, drinking, having sex, and other forms of rebellion. Their clothing was either too revealing or tended toward the black leather and blue jean motorcycle-hood-look in spite of the relatively well-off suburban neighborhood they lived in. Each of the kids stood in the cold alone, apart from the others. They didn’t talk. They stuffed their hands into their pockets and instinctively tried to present as small an area as possible to the cold. The smokers puffed on their cigarettes to warm their faces. Each one suffered separately, waiting for the bus and its heat to arrive.

Bearhug looked at this scene and thought that it was silly and unnecessary. He gathered a small pile of wood chips and sticks from the occasional detritus that lined the road and chose his spot on the curving curb so that the slight wind blew through it but not too much. He leaned some of the smaller sticks against the curb. Ignoring the scoffing and laughter from the other kids, he produced a lighter from his pocket, turned the flame setting on high, and held the flame beneath the little lean-to.

As the smaller sticks caught and he fed gradually larger pieces to the fire, it gave off warmth in a cheery little circle. The scoffing ceased immediately and the other kids crowded around the fire, extending their hands to warm them. Several kids stood around the little fire while one crouched down to feed it. The fire cracked and danced, as fires do, warming them all against the winter’s cold reach.

When the bus finally came, the other kids vanished into its crowded warmth without any acknowledgment or word of thanks, leaving Bearhug alone with the fire. The bus driver waited silently and watched him through the open door. Bearhug stamped the fire out, trusting that any remaining embers would die on the cold asphalt, turned, and climbed up into the bus. The driver pulled a silver handle and the doors swung closed behind him, sealing him in with the dim shadows of the bus.

Bearhug found himself floating in darkness. The next image came almost immediately. It felt different. He was inside the house. He knew without looking that it was nighttime and it was cold outside. He was a young child of 6 or 7. He could smell the pine in the air. They had a huge Christmas tree and all sorts of decorations about the front of the house. The tree itself had lines of lights, bulbs, tinsel icicles, candy canes, and strings of popcorn on it. A big blanket was spread on the floor under the tree, though it was empty.

Food was plentiful, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the types of food were different. They had a bucket full of nuts which had a center stalk with holes for a nutcracker and several nut picks to stand up in. When the bucket came out over the holidays, it never seemed to empty no matter how many nuts he ate. Candies appeared in abundance. There were hard candies of various types and flavors, chocolate, and sesame candies made of honey and sesame seeds. He remembered sucking a candy cane down to a sharp point once. He poked himself on the tongue with that sharp point.

Generally it was a happy time but several times each year his mother roasted chestnuts in the oven. He remembered how the smell of them would permeate the whole house and linger. It was horrible. He remembered the sensation of being cut by the smell. It would lay him open, starting at his nose and cutting through flesh and bone relentlessly until he was a raw, twitching nerve. It cut over and over like a thin paper razor that didn’t cut deeply but didn’t stop cutting so that cut after cut penetrated deeper and deeper. It kept going until the constant annoyance was all that he could think of and then it would cut some more.

“Mom, I hate chestnuts!”

He couldn’t remember his mother ever saying anything in response but he could picture her smiling. She continued to roast chestnuts several times each holiday season and she ate them with relish. She didn’t care that he suffered. Perhaps she didn’t believe him. Perhaps she thought that he was lying to control her actions. At any rate, she didn’t change her behavior to eliminate the smell. It almost seemed like she did the opposite.

Eventually, he gave up saying anything or trying to let her know how much the smell of roasting chestnuts bothered him. It had always been a part of the holidays for him. He couldn’t remember a childhood holiday when he didn’t feel physically ill from the smell of chestnuts.

Eating them seemed like a minor pleasure for his mother while he felt as if the smell sliced through his head and drove nails through his brain. He accepted that his mother didn’t care how he felt or didn’t hear him of believe him and that he had to suffer. His protests had no effect on her. He couldn’t remember a time before his mother tortured him with the chestnut smell. There was no single memory but he had a constant feeling of frustration and not being loved or trusted or taken care of. There was a constant sense that he had been let down – not in every part of his life, but in some part of his life, perhaps a hidden part. It had become part of the background of his life. It was the chorus that framed everything else.

When he realized that, the feeling he experienced became himself. He was witnessing himself feel and what he felt was himself. His mother had undeniably done things but what they meant and what he accepted into his view of the world and of himself were up to him.

He had blamed her for victimizing him but maybe she was a victim, too. Based on various things that he had learned about her life after she’d died, he suspected that was true. She’d been deeply scarred by the war and events that preceded it. She’d been torn away from her own parents by the war. Perhaps the torture was her way of making him strong. Perhaps it was an act of love…

In seeing her as another wounded being rather than as a heartless victimizer, his view of her shifted. He saw the divine love in her and that inspired the divine in himself. He saw and responded to the divine person, not to her actions or his own expectations.

He brought the strength, courage, and understanding from his adult self into the pain and frustration perpetuated by his younger self. By honestly noting and acknowledging the pain and frustration, he accepted them. And by accepting them, by hearing them, they were transformed into what they were – wounds that cried out for acceptance and love. And he had that acceptance and love in abundance. That was the gift of his divine self. In this way, the pain and frustration were transcended but the energy and exuberance of youth were retained.

He returned to the clearing and saw that he was alone. He didn’t see his friend anywhere. He felt at peace. He sat in the clearing and enjoyed the forest and the feeling within him. The sense of frustration was gone. More importantly, the thing that had been hanging over his head didn’t seem to be there any longer. He hadn’t even noticed it was there until it was gone. He felt more complete than he had in a long time and knew that over time he would grow to feel even more complete. He stretched and yawned. He stood up and staggered a step or two noting with some surprise that he felt no tingling or tiredness. On the contrary, he felt energized. He felt lighter and more at ease.

He looked around and saw a path right in front of him that hadn’t been there before – at least he hadn’t seen it. He remembered his original intention to go into town. It looked like the new path was going in the right direction so he followed it. He walked with his eyes open. The fairy city was still present – he could see it whenever he closed his eyes – but it receded into the background. He didn’t know how long he had been in the forest and he wanted to get to the public library before it closed. He must have walked most of the way into town because he only had a little more to go. The weather turned cold again and he stopped to retrieve his warm outer clothing. He came out of the woods suddenly on a quiet side street he had never been down before but the familiar bustle of the town was visible a few blocks over. The sky had cleared and the sun shone brightly overhead.

He headed into town, thinking about his adventure as he walked, hands in his pockets. It was like a hall of mirrors. He remembered stepping between two mirrors once and becoming part of the infinite regress between them. There had been a slight bend to the line of reflections, as if they were sitting on a curve. He let that memory evaporate as he walked on and then recalled playing in the water at the beach as a child. He had swirled and tumbled with the rolling waves. He would let his body go limp and relaxed in the water as waves pushed him into shore.

Remarkably, by relaxing his muscles and letting go of his will, he always flowed with the water back to shore, though it probably looked pretty bad and he always got water and sand in his ears. He smiled remembering. Sometimes his neck or back would make a loud cracking noise like something was breaking as the water bent him into various shapes but he would always be unhurt and his muscles felt looser afterward. He never hit bottom, at least not hard enough to do any damage.

He knew that he wasn’t done. But he sensed that whatever emotions were next were still too tightly wound up – like tangles in a ball of string – but with time, patience, and witnessing awareness, he knew they would relax like a new flower opens in the spring or a seed softens in water.

#

© 2015, David Park. All Rights Reserved.

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”Bearhug – Part 2″ by DCH Park is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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Bearhug – Part 1

Creative Commons License

by DCH Park

Bear Hug by terren in Virginia https://www.flickr.com/photos/8136496@N05/2257963106/

Bear Hug by terren in Virginia https://www.flickr.com/photos/8136496@N05/2257963106/

Bearhug loved blue skies and warm breezes and fragrant flowers. He welcomed the lazy pace of summer and the busy harvest of autumn but he especially loved wintertime. He relished the snow and the ice and the quiet that only seemed to fill the world when snow is falling or freshly fallen at night or in the evening and he was the first one to cross a virgin field, either alone or with a special companion.

Even in the daytime he marveled at the unbroken freshly fallen snow. It changed the landscape completely. He always relished being the first one to break the surface of a virgin field. Whenever he did, he became part of the winter scene, immersing himself totally in it. He loved winter’s chilly bite and savored feeling the cold, dense winter air deep in his lungs.

The wetness that he was walking through now bore little resemblance to that virgin field yet that didn’t dampen his enthusiasm at all, nor did the wetness itself. The skies were grey and a light mixture of snow and rain had darkened the ground though nothing was falling currently. The world seemed close and standoffish at the same time. Bearhug was trudging along, hands in his pockets, glad for the warmth of his hat, scarf, and jacket. He was taking advantage of a break in the falling slush and just about to follow the path up and to the left before it bent back to go into town when he spied another way going off to the right.

He stopped in mid-stride. This was strange, he thought. He’d walked along this path many times and had never noticed this other way before. He looked down the new way but could see only a short distance before it went around a bend.

He looked at the ground and the trees around the entrance to the new path. The earth was well-packed and the foliage grew as if many people had trained the trees and brush to leave the path open. The way had apparently been there for a long time yet he had never noticed it before. It seemed to be headed directly into the center of town, unlike the other path, so he shrugged his shoulders, made an audible harrumph, and turned to follow the new path.

He quickly lost sight of the previous path and entered a part of the woods that he did not recognize. If it weren’t for the path he was on, he would be completely lost. The woods around him grew stranger and stranger. The weather changed, too. It got warmer and brighter. Even though it should have been a blustery morning in winter, it now seemed more like a balmy summer day.

He took off his jacket, scarf, and hat, stuffed the latter into a jacket sleeve, and then stuffed the whole thing into his shoulder bag. He could feel the heat leaving his body and imagined it warming the air around him. He could feel his skin and hair cooling as they dried. His mind wandered back to his school lessons. He tried to recall the various modes of heat transfer. His brow furrowed with the effort. He imagined himself triumphantly charging into the memory and capturing it. Nevertheless, the harder he tried, the less of it he had. It was like focusing on his goal made it slipperier, in spite of what he’d learned. There was convection and…

He gave up. He couldn’t remember the other two modes of heat transfer but he could recall that there were three in total.

He forgot about it and took in the view before him. The forest was all he could see in any direction. The path was the only visible sign of civilization. He closed his eyes and felt into the forest and the path. There was no menace to either one and he could hear nothing threatening in the forest but he definitely felt a difference between what was ahead of him and what was behind him. To test it, he walked a little farther on, stopped, and felt again. Then he turned around and went a few steps back, past the point he had first stopped at, feeling the woods as he walked.

He stopped again, turned around, and resumed walking down the path. It was certainly possible to go back but he could feel a difference between going back and going on. It was a gentle, subtle difference sort of like walking down a slight incline – one that he could easily ignore, but something was inviting him forward. He decided to follow the invitation.

As he walked along, he began to notice fairy creatures on the edges of his vision. He wasn’t surprised to see them. The path and forest were so strange and how he had found them was so gradual and ordinary at first that it made sense that fairies would be involved.

He’d heard of fairies and knew that they were responsible for things mysteriously disappearing and then reappearing somewhere else and other magical occurrences and mischief but he had never seen any before. Now there were fairies all around the edges of his vision but they disappeared whenever he turned his gaze to focus on them directly. It was maddening.

He felt more than heard their laughter at his frustration. This gave him pause. Laughing at someone seemed to be at odds with the good feeling he got. He felt deeply into the forest, looking for any indication that the laughter was a weapon.

He could find no hint of ill feeling. It didn’t seem to be a weapon. Maybe his knee-jerk assumption was wrong. Maybe the laughter wasn’t a form of mockery. The forest was a happy place. It held no malice. There was no sense of triumphing over enemies or taking pleasure from their misfortune. He was the only one who had negative feelings. He felt frustration and anger.

Then it dawned on him. He was doing it to himself! No wonder the fairies were laughing! He saw the absurdity of it all and he laughed a little, too.

His reaction was spontaneous and unthinking but it helped. It lightened his mood. He didn’t take himself or his mood so seriously. His mood was still present, but he wasn’t completely tied up in it any longer either. He could still feel it but at the same time he could see himself feeling it. He continued to walk but he path suddenly found himself in a clearing. There was no way out other than to retrace his footsteps back.

He looked around the open space, also feeling for his own reaction. He felt safe in it, completely secure. He could see no earthly reason for the feeling but it was definitely real. He sat down in the circle, closed his eyes, and focused on breathing completely and opened himself to whatever came up.

It was like there were two versions of him. One was completely involved in the emotions that came up and took them on their own terms. The other watched from outside. It observed himself experience the emotions that came up without being touched by them. It had no agenda or opinion about how things should go. It didn’t push for any goal or end state. It simply observed what the other part experienced. It witnessed everything in its impartial evenness. He didn’t resist anything in favor of a certain idea of what he “ought” to do and this allowed him to experience everything.

He became aware of himself as a vital, creative human being full of humor and understanding. He was vastly important but only a single mote in a vast web that stretched across all time and spanned the whole Universe. He was no different from any other part of the Universe and being part of the Universe, he was part of all there was. So “all there was” would be lessened somehow if he ceased to exist.

At the same time, he was only a small part of “all there was.” If he didn’t do something, someone else would. In a way, he didn’t matter at all and that meant that he was completely free. He was the most important part of the Universe because he was completely free but every other part was just as important. He wasn’t unique but he was important.

He let go of all thought and desire and settled into a vast emptiness in which he could quickly tell if anything came up. It was like looking out onto a vast, open field. Anything that rose up was immediately apparent. He silently observed what came up. Then he became aware that he was not alone – not just in a figurative sense but literally. Presences were all around him. Even the empty space was filled with an ineffable presence that not only surrounded and penetrated him, it was available to him. The same ineffable presence was in everything. He had direct access to that inexpressible creative potential and one of the main ways he had access to it was through himself. He had direct access to himself. He became aware of everything and took in the energy of the place by noticing and taking in himself.

As his sense of himself cleared, so too did his inner vision. It was like a fog lifted but instead of being composed of water droplets, this fog was made up of blindness. It was composed of overlapping blind-spots that not only hid what was there to be seen, but hid themselves, so that even the blindness was hidden. As the miasma dissipated, he saw and felt things more and more clearly. He began to perceive nearby shapes and eventually perceived more and more distant ones.

Perhaps “shape” wasn’t quite the right word for them. He certainly didn’t perceive them as shapes at first. He sensed only surfaces and textures at first. Dimensionality came in only after a surface popped into 3-D existence – after it was no longer limited to the flat, 2-dimensional image but had depth – after it was an object in space. Foreground and background emerged bit by bit as surface textures became objects and space was defined between them.

Eyes closed, he continued to watch as the veil of blindness dissolved. Objects seemed to have a combination of an internal glow (with different objects having different colors) mixed with some sort of external illumination, though he couldn’t tell where the illumination came from.

He turned his head back and forth and marveled as the vista before him shifted just as an image would if his eyes were open. Many of the objects coincided with trees in the forest. He looked at one such object and realized that it was a building. Fairy buildings were all around him. He was in a vast fairy city. Fairy inhabitants flitted about and into and out of the various tree/buildings. Size didn’t seem to matter. Fairies could shrink or grow as needed.

As he looked around, one fairy appeared to him over and over. Sometimes it was in the foreground, sometimes it was in the background or in between, but it always wore the same colors and after a little while, he could make out a distinctive smile that this fairy always seemed to give him. After a little while longer, he noticed that there always seemed to be a certain tone in the air when the fairy was visible and not when he was gone. It wasn’t his voice in any conventional sense – his mouth was not coordinated with the sound – but it seemed to be associated with him.

Bearhug giggled. A thrill of joy and energy ran through him. Keeping his eyes closed, he saw fairies everywhere. He delighted in their many colors and watched their comings and goings with great joy and energy. Their voices were indistinct to him at first but as time went on he came to distinguish separate songs. There were hundreds of songs sung by hundreds of voices. Each different but somehow harmonizing with the whole. The forest/city was a joyful place.

He felt honored and humbled. For some reason they had invited him into their city. Without realizing what he was doing at first, he found that he could travel within the city without moving. All he had to do was focus on where he wanted to go – either someplace he currently saw or someplace he’d been to before even if he couldn’t see it – and he was there instantly and effortlessly! He traveled about the city this way, flitting from place to place. He took in some of the wonders it had to offer and always the songs were there.

Some time later the songs changed. The many voices were still present but now they sang a single song. It wasn’t that the different songs had stopped and this new song had begun. The various songs had continued unabated. They had simply woven together into a single song.

Was it the songs or his perception of them that changed, he wondered. Maybe both. He had no way of telling. Nor did he know the words or the tune but it was unmistakably a song of greeting. He couldn’t tell how many parts there were – many more than in any song he had heard before – but somehow they all came together. He could hear each part of the song without detracting from the others. Each part was sung by at least one voice but some were sung by many voices together and occasionally a voice would change the part it sang. The parts blended together, making a musical tapestry that was intricate and beautiful at the same time that it formed a unitary whole.

The many parts wove in and out like strands of a rope. Sometimes a single strand would be in the forefront while others played various supporting roles. At others, that strand would relinquish the spotlight while another carried the tune. Each strand followed its own rhythm and timing and honored its own momentum. Some featured variations of the main tune, others focused on harmonies. Still others went a different way entirely. Each strand was a song in itself with its own rhythms and harmonies but they all blended into a beautiful chorus.

He suddenly had a sense that he was sitting in the clearing again. The song of greeting had receded into the background. A fairy emerged from the forest/city and stepped into the circle before him. It was his “friend” from before. There was a sense of movement or continual becoming about him that made him appear to shimmer. Even though no words had ever passed between them, Bearhug felt a kinship and warmth for this being and felt certain that his feeling was reciprocated. He didn’t know how he knew. He knew the same way he knew what blue and sweet were. He just knew. The fairy stood before him and Bearhug opened his eyes to see if his outer vision would match his inner vision. He saw nothing in the clearing. It was almost disappointing.

He closed his eyes again and the being reappeared. It towered over him, looking down from above, but he felt no threat. On the contrary, he felt an easy mirth and humor from the being. Laughing lightness poured forth from the fairy as if it came from an inexhaustible source. Bearhug felt that he could make even the hardest way easy.

Bearhug couldn’t quite make out its face but something seemed familiar about it. The face itself shifted from one visage to another. At times it almost seemed like he was looking into a mirror. At others, the face was something else entirely or he couldn’t discern it but the sense of familiarity was always there.

He saw more deeply into the fairy than just its appearance, too. He knew its intentions. It was as if it communicated telepathically and the thoughts formed fully and instantly in his head without words first and then the words coalesced around the thought but only after it was fully formed. There was a moment before words but after he received the thought in which he understood it without words at all.

In such moments, his understanding of the thought was more complete and simultaneously more indistinct or tenuous. His understanding was broader – he got all of the thought’s implications and all the ways in which it was connected with everything else – but the single thought itself was much easier to hold onto through the words. So he opted to hold onto the thought or his projection or understanding of the thought through the words and only remember the larger, more ephemeral implications and connections as they were implied by the words or what the words evoked.

Who can say if his memories of such things were accurate or if the words themselves were faithful reflections of the thought-before-words? Maybe the words evoked the “right” connections, maybe they didn’t, but the words made it easier to remember the message and they certainly made it easier to communicate the message with others. They provided solid handles that he could easily hold on to. Sometimes, the words were all that he could remember. At such times, he could imagine a thought to go along with the words but he couldn’t remember the original thought-before-words at all.

Regardless of the relationships between thoughts and words (or vice versa) the intention he received was that the being looked forward to sharing whatever came up and to creating with him. He (She? It?) was ready to challenge and be challenged and he hoped that Bearhug would be open too. He smiled, sharing the warmth, humor, and acceptance with Bearhug.

Bearhug got all of this through the understanding that ran between them. He wasn’t sure what he’d find within himself but he was open to considering things. The fairy was satisfied. A sense of smiling open-ended readiness (that was the best description of the nuanced blend that he got) came to him. Could the fairy “read” his thoughts, too?

The fairy gave him a knowing half smile.

He relaxed into a feeling of cozy confidence, secure that although he didn’t know what was coming, he could weather it. He searched himself and found again the emotion that had almost engulfed him earlier. It had diminished to a distant rumbling but it had never left. He noticed the feeling and also noticed himself feeling it. The emotion came back into his attention like a nagging tooth…

That wasn’t quite right. It didn’t “come back” on its own. He brought it back. He was holding on to it. It was there, in the background, like a weight in his back pocket. He was dragging it along behind him. He swung the frustration around again so it was right before him. It went from being a lurking specter at the back of his awareness to a full-blown presence in front of him. Like an ancient hunter turning to face a charging tiger, he turned into the frustration. He let it wash over and through him. He watched himself feel it. He felt the frustration and asked himself what the feeling reminded him of. There was something familiar about it. Suddenly he was in a different place.

He looked around. He was at work…

To be concluded…

© 2015, David Park. All Rights Reserved.

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”Bearhug – Part 1″ by DCH Park is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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The 5 Kingdoms

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by DCH Park

The 5 KingdomsThere were once 5 Kingdoms who traded with each other. They grew prosperous from the trade and all was well.

The people of the first kingdom were great foresters and farmers. They cared for the land and all the plants and animals that grew upon it. The farmers grew things in great variety but always allowed the land to lie fallow for one year out of four. The foresters cared for different plants and animals from the farmers and did it in a different way but produced delicacies that no one else could. The changes of the seasons and the rhythms of the land and the reverence they felt for the land were all in the food they produced.

The people of the second kingdom were hardy fishermen and women. They harvested all manner of wealth from the sea. They knew that their lives were intricately bound up in the sea. They even timed their comings and goings to coincide with the tides. They had parties and celebrations on the beach and gladly took any excuse for a clam bake or a crab bake or a lobster bake or just a dance party with no bake at all. High tide under a full moon was a particularly special time for them.

The people of the third kingdom were excellent miners, which was fortunate because mineral deposits in their their land were rich and varied. They had an intimate knowledge of the land and were constantly probing and imaging it to find new deposits or a new cave. They loved nothing more than to explore a new cave or digging through the earth, searching out the hidden roots of things.

The people of the fourth kingdom were masters of the fiber arts. They could weave a basket or take hemp or linen fibers and make a fine suit of clothes or delicate paper out of them. The things they made were the finest imaginable. They could make rope of any thickness or colored thread, yarn, or paper and make all sorts of things from these materials. Their costumes and decorations were beautiful and surprising. Their festivals were always bright and colorful. It was said that you hadn’t lived until you’d attended a festival in the fourth kingdom.

The people of the fifth kingdom were smiths of all types. They worked with wood and stone as well as with metals. They could make a fine needle or a complex machine. Their people also included marvelous chemists. They were able to fashion fuels and other raw materials out of things they bought or found. They refined metals from some stones and cut others into jewelry and statues. They made porcelain tableware and figurines out of earth, glass implements out of sand, and caved wood into a variety of objects both useful and decorative.

The 5 Kingdoms were very different but they shared a sense of respect and reverence for the land. It sustained them. It gave them their lives and also their livelihoods. There was no reason it couldn’t continue to do so forever as long as it was taken care of. So each generation took care of the land so they could pass it on to future generations. They knew they didn’t own the land. They knew that they were merely part of a long succession – a chain of generations – who managed the land together. They formed a symbiotic relationship with the land. They benefited from the land and the land benefited from them.

Still, the people of The 5 Kingdoms knew that the land would be nothing without the people. People were the true source of wealth. Prosperity flowed from the efforts and genius of the people. Everyone in The 5 Kingdoms owed the creation of his or her personal wealth to everyone else. They all rose and sank together and they knew it.

Thus the various peoples traded with each other and were able to get everything they couldn’t make for themselves from each other. They had everything they needed for life. In fact, they became so wealthy and life was so fulfilling together that the life expectancy of the peoples of The 5 Kingdoms increased to a phenomenal degree.

Rarely did anyone mention one of the kingdoms as a separate entity even in passing. They were legally separate kingdoms but their trade agreements had lasted for so long and their cultures and traditions had merged so much that they seemed more like regional variations of a single, vast country than separate kingdoms and although there was certainly no law against trading with anyone else, there was little incentive to do so.

Strangers were welcome in any of the kingdoms. Many times such strangers were destitute in the beginning but had come to make valuable contributions. Many of them had risen to become highly regarded and influential. Who knew if the next stranger wouldn’t create the next great thing?

So all was well in The 5 Kingdoms for many generations. Then one day a money counter appeared in the first kingdom. He was obviously poor and had traveled a great distance. No doubt, thought the people of the first kingdom, he sought the prosperity of The 5 Kingdoms. However all the money counter could see was the vast wealth in the forests and the farms of the first kingdom. He imagined they were all his or controlled by him and everyone in the kingdom worked for him but he kept his imaginings secret. He said nothing to the people of the first kingdom.

As was their custom, the people of the first kingdom put him up in one of the apartments they had set aside for indigents. He was provided food and means to wash and press his meager clothes. He was left alone to tend to his needs and get his bearings.

Soon he was hard at work in his trade, keeping track of the coming and going of money. He had a practiced way of looking at money and his suggestions invariably increased profits. The businesses of those he worked for grew even richer. He started his own company and hired employees to satisfy demand.

The people of the first kingdom didn’t know why he had failed where he came from. He was certainly wise in the ways of business. Nor did they understand why he had shown up in their kingdom alone, with no family or tokens or anything reminiscent of any ties. But they were glad that he had come. They assumed that he would talk when he was ready. At any rate, they were certain that a person’s actions would be consistent with his thinking, whether voiced or unvoiced, so they didn’t press.

In the meanwhile, they were focused on making more money. The promise of riches often produces a kind of mania. That mania was taking hold of the people of the first kingdom. It was so slow and they were so distracted by their mounting frenzy that they failed to notice what was happening to them. Instead, they set their sights on the money they imagined before them. Soon that was all that they could see.

The money counter was in high demand as excitement spread. He became very rich but that didn’t satisfy him. There were others who had more money than he had. He had to be the best. He had no family or friends to share his money with and he didn’t trust new people. He was sure they wanted nothing more than to separate him from his money so it was hard for him to make new friends.

Rather than feeling out the hard things to understand them so he could heal them and make them easy, the money counter followed his training and avoided the hard things. In a way, the money counter was a victim. He was trying to be true to his training but that didn’t remove his personal responsibility for what he did or towards other people.

Not surprisingly, it didn’t help him make friends. In fact, avoidance made it harder to make friends. However, he was unaware of all of this. Without awareness of what he was doing, he pursued the only thing left to him. He pursued money with a single-mindedness that was inhuman.

In a short time, he became the most successful money counter in the whole kingdom yet that wasn’t enough. One day, he announced to his employees that he was going on a trip. He would go to the second kingdom to begin operations there. Surely the people of the second kingdom would appreciate him and his keen insight and counting abilities just as the people of the first kingdom had.

So he set off for the second kingdom. But this time he did not travel on foot wearing threadbare clothes. This time he rode in a fabulous carriage and wore expensive, new clothes. He made arrangements for his living space and counting house ahead of time, so they were waiting for him when he arrived.

His reputation preceded him. As soon as he opened for business, he had as much business as he wanted. Soon everyone in the whole kingdom employed him. He did the same with each of the other kingdoms.

After he became well known throughout all of The 5 Kingdoms, he settled back and looked at the figures from his business. He wasn’t the richest person yet but he was gaining. His growth was faster than anyone else’s. Still he wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t feel secure.

There were people in The 5 Kingdoms, thought the money counter to himself, who were so powerful that they could have him arrested and exiled. He remembered what had happened in the country of his birth. He was determined to not let that happen to him again. He imagined that the powerful people could have him thrown into a deep, dark dungeon to rot, cut off and forgotten. Never mind that such places didn’t exist in The 5 Kingdoms. His imagination was ruled by fear.

Fear demanded that he act. Fear demanded that in addition to being the richest person in all the land, he should be the most powerful person in all the land so he wouldn’t be thrown into the dungeon of his imagination. He would have to act cunningly and slowly at first, but after events gained their own momentum, he would be able sit back and relax and watch things unfold.

He waited patiently and continued to pretend to be everyone’s faithful friend while secretly working to undermine them. He used his position as money counter to all the businesses in The 5 Kingdoms to casually say things or whisper things to certain individuals in each of the kingdoms. He made suggestions that sounded wise but always caused business owners to question the motives of anyone from any of the other kingdoms. He raised questions about their reasons for doing things.

Later, when he was somewhat bolder, he suggested that they needed to protect themselves. Who knew, he would whisper, what hidden plans there might be to steal someone’s wealth? He planted seeds of doubt and suspicion all over The 5 Kingdoms. Slowly doubt and suspicion became normal. Contracts became long and laboriously exacting. Safeguards were built into every transaction. If someone began with an attitude of trust, that person was considered a fool and people tried to take advantage of him by presenting one face while secretly honoring another.

By the time that the first price increase was charged for exporting something to another kingdom, the pressure between kingdoms was nearly unbearable. That first increase led to a firestorm of reprisals as increase followed increase. No one trusted anyone else, especially those from another kingdom. Generations of successful trading were forgotten in the frenzy of suspicion and distrust.

The only thing that anyone seemed to be aware of was his own money. Each would-be trader imagined his own little treasure increasing beyond measure and a horde of jackals waiting to steal it from him. The money counter had successfully changed people’s expectations without revealing the truth so the norm was defined by suspicion. This created an opening for the money counter.

The only person whom everyone would accept was the money counter. His company was already present in all the kingdoms and he wasn’t from any of the kingdoms. He had originally come from a foreign land, they reasoned, so they sought him out. They begged him to oversee their deals and to make sure they were fair.

Putting on a big show, he feigned reluctance but he secretly celebrated. He agreed but he said that his staff was already overburdened. He would have to hire more staff, which would require more funds. He would also need to expand his staff further as the number of trades increased. So in addition to the startup funds, he required a portion of every trade that passed between the kingdoms. The former trading partners were desperate and didn’t know what else to do. The money counter’s demands seemed reasonable, if somewhat stiff, so they gave him what he asked for.

The money counter set up his main headquarters near the location of his first company in the first kingdom but he had offices in every kingdom to oversee transactions. His various offices were lavish and extravagant but that was only fitting, so the people told themselves, for someone overseeing every transaction between any of the 5 Kingdoms.

Fewer saw his personal apartments. These were more lavish even than his offices. They rivaled even those of the various Kings of The 5 Kingdoms. Yet still, the money counter was not satisfied.

He looked about him and saw that he was the richest man in The 5 Kingdoms. No one had more money than he had. He was also extremely powerful, perhaps more powerful than the Kings themselves, since he controlled the trade between kingdoms.

Best of all, certainly most ironic, he had done it through their respect and love for him! He had managed to get them to hate and fear each other while their love for him grew! It was as if they had traded one for the other and made him rich and famous while impoverishing themselves at the same time! He licked his lips and smiled. The pretty picture he presented to the world hinted at none of the thoughts he carried within. He would use their distrust of one another to even further separate the kingdoms and boost their love of him.

He took a moment to ponder the age-old philosophical question. Was it better to be loved or feared? Which was safer, he asked himself.

He couldn’t see that he had already chosen fear. He could only see his actions. He failed to notice his own thoughts or expectations or how his choices shaped them. He failed to see that the actions he took were in turn shaped by his expectations so his actions were ultimately shaped by his choices.

He was acting in accordance with fear but he didn’t see that those actions only seemed reasonable from within a context of separation – a context that he had chosen to begin with. He was already driving people apart and thus honoring the illusion of separation. Thus it should be no surprise that the money counter decided it was better to be feared but only after he thought himself safe.

In this way, he was no different from anyone who chooses fear and separation in any form. He was basically a coward. He “reasoned” that once he had isolated everyone to the point that they had no choice but to live within the system that he created, he would be absolute ruler, imperiously doling out things that no one else could even question because he had crushed all opposition with his strength.

Once they were all in his system and had given up hope of living any other way, then he could let drop his mask and reveal his true face. He could let go of all pretenses to love and acceptance and let fear show itself.

He would be the most feared person in The 5 Kingdoms. He would be terrible and wrathful most of the time and kind and merciful when it pleased him. He would be unpredictable and that would just make people fear him more. He would be free, he told himself. It would be wonderful.

He sat there, imagining his power and freedom for a few minutes and then pulled himself out of his reverie. Perhaps, he told himself, it would be wonderful but he wasn’t there yet.

He continued to sow seeds of distrust and suspicion throughout the kingdoms while continuing to pretend to be everyone’s friend. He continued to oversee the trades that passed between kingdoms while collecting a growing percentage of each transaction. He watched while relations between the kingdoms continued to fray and tensions continued to mount.

When the fifth kingdom erected a fence all around its border and checkpoints on highways to neighboring kingdoms, the money counter was surprised and delighted. Soon all of the borders were patrolled and fortified. The money counter knew that increased threats of violence gave him a built-in excuse to charge even higher fees and he did.

As misunderstandings grew into conflicts and conflicts became fights, the checkpoints and their surroundings grew more and more desolate. The money counter quietly supported installing higher and stronger walls. He quietly encouraged each kingdom to separate itself more and more from the other kingdoms.

The people of the kingdoms were suffering. The things that they needed, which had once been plentiful and easy to find had become scarce and expensive. As trade became more restricted, fewer and fewer goods were sold. At first, people banded together and distributed the reduction in income across everyone. They all shared the burden. But instead of passing, as such troubles had always done in the past, the reductions kept mounting. Eventually, they became so severe that many people lost their livelihoods altogether.

Many necessities were beyond the means that most people had remaining. They grew desperate. They began to organize, agitate, or steal – anything to stay alive. Marshal law was imposed in the various kingdoms. Conscription followed after that and border patrols and fences came soon after that.

Conscription into the armed forces was a welcome change for most because it meant that they could at least eat and send their wages home but the royal stocks, on which most people now depended, were limited. They were vast but they would run out eventually.

In addition, royal treasuries were tapped to pay wages to the vastly increased army and to subsidize the high fees that were charged for the trades that still went through to keep things running. The 5 Kings didn’t realize it, perhaps the money counter himself didn’t realize it, but the vast stores of food and treasure were being used to enrich the money counter. The money counter was benefiting and everyone else, including the Kings, were being hurt.

But the Kings realized none of this at the time. All they were aware of was their alarmingly rapidly dwindling stores, their swollen armies (swollen with people who would soon become desperate again once their conscription ended), and the apparent inevitable war. None of them wanted to go to war but none of them could think of any alternative plan. It seemed that the walls between the kingdoms were higher and the trades that passed between them were fewer every day. The people grew more and more desperate. War seemed unavoidable.

Then, just as he was about to proclaim war, the King of the fifth kingdom heard of a little market that had just sprung up in one of his towns. Intrigued by what he heard, he went to see it.

He traveled for a day and a night and finally came to a little village on the edge of his realm. It sat near the border his kingdom shared with the first kingdom. Being honest folk, the people of the village told the King the truth about their market even though they were afraid. They were technically breaching the border between kingdoms although they hadn’t directly broken any laws. The fence and then the wall had been erected to protect the people of the fifth kingdom from the people of the first kingdom. It wasn’t thought that any laws were needed.

But people from the villages on either side of the border had interacted and traded freely with each other for generations. Many had family members who had crossed over from or gone to the other side, before the fence had been built. Apparently they had found a way to continue trade under the notice of the money counter and the border patrol.

They had constructed a trebuchet and with it, they could shoot things high over the border to the other side. The King looked at the trebuchet and admired its craftsmanship. After they’d launched the plans for the trebuchet to the other side and established that it was possible to have two-way communication and material transfer, all that remained was negotiation on what to send, how much to send, and its price. Of course since no money changed hands, prices were based on exchange. But since each side needed what the other had in abundance, exchange was easy.

Furthermore, since no money was involved, there was no need for a money counter. People on both sides benefited and this benefited their neighbors and their respective Kings. Both kingdoms benefited. The people didn’t even notice the lack of a money counter.

The King went back to his castle in a daze. It seemed that even in a situation in which all trade is strictly limited and controlled to enrich one person or a small group at the whole community’s expense, a way to trade freely will be found. Being wise and well-schooled, the King saw that this implied that love and connection are more powerful than separation and control – that openness and honesty are more powerful than secrecy and lies. Of course, the King realized, they would be. Why else would secrets be held? Why else would something pretend to be something else? He pondered this all the way back to the capital.

Once he returned, he immediately called for a conference with the other Kings. While he waited he noticed that news of that first market had spread like wildfire all across his entire kingdom. Soon, similar markets had appeared in towns along every border that his kingdom shared with another kingdom.

When the Kings were all together, he recounted his experience and what he’d learned. He wasn’t too surprised to learn that the markets had spread across all five kingdoms. They now connected The 5 Kingdoms together. There were now two exchanges. One was an official exchange, overseen by the money counter, and the other had been invented by and was managed by the people.

The significance of the markets was not lost on the Kings. They agreed to immediately open the checkpoints between their lands to allow for free trade among the people, in accordance with their original agreements. They also tasked their armies to dismantle and destroy the border fences and walls before the conscriptees were released back to their families.

Finally, they issued a joint decree, calling for the money counter to cease all operations and for him to be arrested and all of his records seized and all of his assets frozen.

It took many years for all of the money counter’s records to be found, organized, and read. It also took many years to find the money counter, himself. This was because once he realized the soldiers were coming to arrest him, he fled. Having kept his plans secret and working to separate individuals from each other just to increase profit or to feel more powerful, when he realized that he had been discovered, he fled. This does not mean that fleeing proves guilt but in the money counter’s case, since he couldn’t hide his secret any longer, he tried to hide himself.

Over the years, he tried to remain hidden while moving to escape The 5 Kingdoms and take his hidden stash of gold with him. This is what undid him in the end. Someone saw him and reported it. He was arrested and brought before a special panel of judges from each of the kingdoms and a jury composed of citizens from each of the five kingdoms.

He was found guilty and stripped of all of his money, which he coveted so highly. He was removed from The 5 Kingdoms and exiled. He was sentenced to remove himself from that place for three times as long as he had been there. At the end of his exile, he could return if he wished, provided that his activities from that moment onward were motivated out of genuine concern for the betterment of everyone and not just himself as measured against other people.

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© 2015, David Park. All Rights Reserved.

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”The 5 Kingdoms” by DCH Park is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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The Big Storm

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by DCH Park

monsoon-390944_1280Kiran woke to the sounds of rain and wind. He was still a little guy – much smaller than he would be as a full grown human – but it was obvious that the storm was a bad one. It had been raining for seven days and who could tell when it would end? Through his window he could see that the sky was dark and grey. Thick clouds hung very low and an unbroken pall hid the sun. There was rain and mud everywhere. It even obscured the roadway as water flowed over the roads. He guessed it emptied into the river. They said on the radio that the reservoir was completely filled. He eyed the hills above the town nervously.

He ate a hearty meal of crackers and peanut butter which represented the last of his food. “At least,” he thought to himself ruefully, “there’s plenty of water!” He quenched his thirst with a long, deep drink of cold water, relishing the feeling of refreshment and aliveness that sparked through him. Then he busied himself packing some clothes and rain gear, still tasting the water in his mouth and relishing the sensation of wetness.

“How ironic,” he thought.

He would have to seek out shelter at the nearby school. It was on a hill so it probably wouldn’t be flooded. The various animals and humans from the town all knew to go there in an emergency and this was shaping up to be one. He remembered how strange the sky had looked just before the storm. It had been green and clouds had slowly filled the sky, blotting out the sun. Then the rain started.

He brought himself back to the present moment and finished packing his pack. The school promised plenty of food, blankets, and cots. Surely the different creatures from the town wouldn’t eat each other. There wouldn’t be a need to hunt because there would be plenty of food. Besides, they needed each other. The storm made that abundantly clear. He doubted they would fight but he wasn’t sure. He would have to go to the school to see.

It was just as well. He had been getting a little anxious waiting for the storm to end. There had been nothing to do about the house. This way, he could get out and maybe help others. He finished with his bundle, made sure all the lights were off (even though the electricity had gone out the first day of the storm), blew out the candles, and strapping the pack on his back, headed into the storm.

It was wet and blustery but not as bad as it had been a few hours ago. Then the wind had raged and rain blew sideways. Now it was still windy but it wasn’t as windy as it had been. He could negotiate the walk to the school.

Crossing the road was another matter. The water wasn’t as swift as some rivers that he had seen but it was fast and muddy and the road beneath it was slick. He had to walk carefully so that his feet stayed under him. When he finally reached the other side, he sighed with relief and was glad that he didn’t have to cross more streets on the way up the hill. After crossing, he was on the same side of the street as the school and an unbroken sidewalk led up to the school property. The raised sidewalk was relatively clear since rain spilled into the street.

When Kiran got to the school, he was checked in and someone showed him to the cot that was assigned to him. He dropped his dripping pack and headed out to the communication center to see if he could help anyone. He quickly found a group that was headed out and attached himself to it. Apparently Lion had gone out by himself some time ago to rescue a stalled bus.

The bus had been headed for the school when it had gotten lost a few hours ago. Apparently it had gotten swamped or stuck in the mud. Lion had gone out to rescue the bus passengers, which apparently included some children, but no one had heard from him for a couple of hours. The rescue group that he joined was composed of Wolf and a few of his pack-mates and Frog. Being amphibious and a keen observer, Frog naturally led. Wolf and his pack-mates were content to follow Frog. Kiran was, too.

Frog had noticed the direction Lion had headed off in, so he knew which way to start in but moved slower and slower the farther they moved into the storm. It wasn’t that the storm itself was fighting them. In fact, it was gentler than it had been when Lion had gone out. What slowed him down was that following a trail through the storm was hard. It would have been impossible to make any progress at all if they didn’t know the general area that the bus was going through.

None of the others complained. Nevertheless, after a particularly long stop, Frog turned to the others and admitted that he didn’t know which way to proceed. Wolf said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take it from here. With all this rain, smells are pretty faint, that is, the ones that haven’t been washed away completely, and you have to get your snout really close to anything to pick up a scent but we have eyes and there are a few of us. We’ll find him and the passengers, including the little ones.”

With that the wolves spread out, being careful to keep each other in sight while they searched for any clue. There weren’t many wolves in the group but they separated to increase their search area as much as possible. Without a further word they swept first left and then swung right, covering the entire field.

Finally they all came back to the porch they were using to get out of the worst of the falling rain (though it did nothing for the wind or splashes) and Wolf said, “We don’t know where he is. We’ve looked everywhere.”

Kiran said, “We can’t give up on him! He wouldn’t give up on us!”

Frog replied, “No one is suggesting that we should but what else can we do?”

Kiran said, “I don’t know.”

They all sat, cold, wet, and miserable, staring at the rain in silence. After a while Kiran said, “Let’s spread out and listen.”

Wolf said, “We listened, too, of course. We heard nothing. Besides, the roar of the rain and the wind and the thunder makes it hard to hear anything.”

Kiran said, “Is there anything else you can think of? Anything else to do?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

So they formed a circle around the porch and spread out. As each one sat down in the rain, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds that came to him.

They sat that way for a long time, listening to the sounds and rhythms of the rain and the wind. They got soaked through and Kiran gave up all hope of keeping even his underwear dry. They accepted this in stoic silence. They sat and listened some more.

When they were shivering and so chilled that hypothermia was looming, one of Wolf’s pack-mates raised his paw to beckon them over. They silently gathered around him and he said, “Do you hear that? It’s faint but I can just make it out.”

Kiran listened. He could hear nothing but the other wolves could. Wolf said, “Good job, brother!” He loped off in the direction of the hills. The others followed, happy to be moving because of the measure of warmth it promised.

As they followed the sound, it grew louder. Eventually even Kiran could hear it. It was definitely Lion roaring to be heard.

They eventually found a deep ravine but could see no bus. The roaring was definitely coming from the ravine. Kiran looked at it. He could see signs of a recent mudslide, which wasn’t too surprising given all the rain. He said, “It looks like the bus fell or was washed into the ravine and then was buried in mud.”

Frog said, “How do we get to them?”

Wolf said, “We dig them out!”

So they started calling for Lion. Once he had indicated the best place for them to climb out, they started to dig through the mud. Luckily it was relatively soft and a lot of the water had drained out of it so out was fairly solid.

Still, it was hard and dirty work. When they reached the window and had pulled the youngsters and other passengers and Lion to relative safety, they felt like celebrating. They did a quick headcount and after verifying that everyone was present, they headed back to the school. When they got there, everyone was dried off, given a blanket, and hot soup to eat. They could feel the warmth spreading through then as they ate.

Soon they felt much warmer and the children felt gratitude for the efforts of their rescuers and the rescuers felt grateful that they could help everyone feel more secure. It was the best time ever even though the children couldn’t hear a thing. They were nearly deaf from all the roaring.

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© 2015, David Park. All Rights Reserved.

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”The Big Storm” by DCH Park is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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Human Nature

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by DCH Park

Sun Moon fullOne day, as the Sun was passing through the sky, gazing at the entirety of the Earth, it suddenly occurred to him that although he saw many things in his brilliant gaze, he didn’t see everything. He saw the stones and the soil of the earth and its rivers, lakes, and seas. He saw the mountains and the valleys, the snow and the ice and the clouds but he didn’t see very far beyond the surfaces of things.

He pondered this for a long time and it seemed to be true so he took his questions to the Moon. She represented the cool, dark parts of existence just as he represented the fire and light. She was nurturing, bubbly, and active, though much of that activity was hidden. He was calm, still, and clear.

She healed through her connections. His gaze was penetrating. Healing was present in his gaze but almost as an afterthought – a facet or unintended side effect of clarity of perception. For her, healing was a central focus.

In the Sun’s view, there was no need to go anywhere or do anything because you already were everything. You just had to find yourself. – At least that’s the way that he had always looked at things. Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps there was another whole half of the Universe that he knew nothing about. That’s why he sought out the Moon.

When he found her, he said, “I penetrate everything that I see. I gaze brightly and light up the whole sky when my eye is open. Yet I don’t see everything.”

The Moon said, “That is true. There are things beneath the earth or under the ocean or ice that you cannot see. There are things beneath the surface that you cannot see. There may be things in the hearts of things that no one can see – invisible things that cannot be seen but that nonetheless have real and important effects.”

Ever one to cut to the heart of things, the Sun said, “If they are invisible how can I see them?”

“Perhaps ‘seeing’ is the wrong way to think about it. You cannot see what is invisible but you may know something is there and how it behaves through its effects, even if you can’t see it. You can see the effects even if you can’t see the thing directly.

“You know a rock is just beneath the surface of a river even if you can’t see it by the ripples it creates.”

The Sun thought about this. He looked at the Universe all around him in a new way. Then he said, “So I can know what is there even in the darkness, even when I can’t see? I can know it by its effects?”

“Yes. Connections are there, even in the cool darkness, though they are invisible to the eye. They are always present, even in the daylight.”

“Hm,” replied the Sun. “Let us create life together so that we may witness the cycle of birth and death so that we may learn. What ripples will life leave behind as it passes through the Universe?”

Then he concluded, “I look forward to understanding you better. We may each understand the other better because of this.”

The Moon nodded her agreement.

So it was done. And the animals and plants filled the earth and for a time the Sun was very busy with all of the life. He was fascinated with all the dramas that played out, though he never intervened. He just watched.

The Moon was happy, too. She was delighted with all of the creatures and plants. It was as if the various forms of life completed her feminine aspect somehow.

Yet ultimately it wasn’t enough. They sought each other out again. The Sun was pleased that the Moon seemed to be so happy. He hadn’t expected such a palpable change. He said, “Life seems to agree with you.”

The Moon said, “Have you seen the fish? Of course you have, at least sometimes. There are so many kinds! And the different flowers! And the bees! The mammals! Not all of them but many of them have such soft fur!

“And the web of connections!” She went on, “It got so much richer when we added living things! It’s amazing!”

He felt it, too. The web of connections was much richer and more complex than it had been but it still didn’t open things up as much as he’d like. Or maybe it was that it wasn’t quite opening things up the way he’d wanted. Or maybe what they’d done so far wasn’t enough – maybe they could experience more by going deeper…

He said, “I sense that something more is possible. I’m not sure what. Maybe something more self-aware or something more aware of connections to the rest of the web or something more aware of the Universe.” He paused, deeply submersed in the feelings and images that came to him.

Then he said, “Maybe something that can better articulate what’s going on inside so the invisible things can be made plain. Maybe all of those things. Maybe none of them. Maybe something else.

“What do you think?”

The Moon pondered this in silence. Then she said, “I hadn’t thought about it that way. Actually,” she smiled, “I hadn’t thought about it much at all. I was having so much fun with everything else but now that I think about it, I see that you’re not wrong. What do you want to do?”

“Let’s go one step further. Let’s create Man. Let us create a child together so that he may live through the cycle of birth to death and let us learn through him. He will be a part of each of us so he will know the penetrating light as well as the connections in coolness and darkness. He will know both and will be able to share what he knows.

“We may experience life and the getting of wisdom and its benefits through him.”

“Hm,” the Moon said. “Not a bad idea. Let’s do it.”

So the Sun and the Moon, representing the masculine and feminine aspects of the Universe, worked together to create Man. He was a part of each, so he reflected both feminine and masculine aspects. In fact, he combined these different aspects in surprising ways. He was a part of the Universe and reflected its masculine and feminine elements but he was also a separate being. He was a part of the whole and whole in himself and he knew it.

He could perceive himself more clearly than any other living thing and thus more clearly perceive and act upon the divinity within himself. He was no more divine than any other part of the Universe but he could know he was divine and thus he could create his own fate. Other living things were hamstrung by their inability to perceive themselves. Thus they were trapped in their own fates and didn’t even know they were trapped.

It was possible for Man to free himself but he wasn’t created free. He wasn’t created imprisoned, either. He could choose his fate but if he didn’t choose for himself, a fate would be chosen for him and he wouldn’t be free even if he considered himself free. Chains don’t disappear simply because you ignore them. In the same way, a Man who doesn’t choose for himself isn’t free, no matter how much he insists that he is.

On the other hand, the mere act of making a choice proves nothing. Many a stage magician and con artist have thrived by getting people to choose the way they wanted them to without letting them know their choices were planned in advance. It is necessary to perceive what is constraining you in order to free yourself. In order to perceive things clearly, Man has to practice perceiving.

This is the nature of the essential struggle that every person must go through. Each person must choose for him or her self what to accept as true and what to live by. This is not a reflection that there is no truth, on the contrary. However the only place to find truth is within. Ironically, the only way to find the truth of the Universe is to become familiar with the invisible things. This is the opportunity presented to Man.

Thus, the Sun and the Moon, and the whole of existence are able to live and experience through Man. The connections that Man has with the rest of the Universe also mean that the Universe is connected to Man. Indeed, Man is free to find and honor the divine spark within himself but he is also completely himself. It is as if the more he surrenders to the divine, the more himself he is.

Alternatively, the more he resists the divine he finds within himself, the more he insists on being or doing a certain thing because “he” has decided he wants to, the more he loses himself. It is a paradox for sure.

© 2015, David Park. All Rights Reserved.

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”Human Nature” by DCH Park is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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