Once upon a time...
...or maybe it was twice. Come to think of it, it was definitely much more often than that.
It was, after all, all about the time. Then again, it was also about the place and the people who were there and the things that happened. So maybe I need to restart.
Once upon a spacetime, I was there. I have been an observer. Somehow I adopted the notion that it was important for me to observe and record. If not me, who?
It all started with a vision, although it may have started before the vision and elsewhere. That's the trouble with spacetime. One wherewhen's herenow is another wherewhen's therethen. But for the life of us we keep counting the time. Sometimes it becomes all too apparent that it is a dwindling resource.
But I've kept recording. It is my nature.
The search for sense in this existence is inward. One dives as deeply as one dares. The layers of the onion are carefully unwrapped to display more onion, ever deeper. The fear is that eventually a layer will be removed and reveal The Void. Dare I go that far? Is it possible to observe that?
The search for sense, I've discovered, requires a metaphor...or several. Darmok and Jilad at Tanagra. Robyn sees a village and wonders why the people there cannot live in harmony. Picard and Dathon at El-Adrel. The task of teaching people to learn how to help others survive is assumed. Shaka, when the walls fell. Failure happens more often than not, but observing and relating and hoping people will learn continues.
We are all in this spacetime together. The only way out is to live through it. The question is, Are we going to contend or cooperate? Shall we survive by working together for the mutual good or fail while insisting on individual benefit? Does the village prosper through collaborate effort or sow the seeds of mutually assured destruction?
All I can do...and all I can ask others to do, is to choose the cooperative path...and mourn when it is not. Kiteo, his eyes closed.
And meanwhile spacetime changes. And some placeday there will need to be a new observer. Maybe the observer already exists. Maybe there are many. How would I know?
And maybe it is not too late to change this common experience, although I do not know if I have the energy or wisdom to contribute to that anymore.
I have my doubts if I can even manage to give my report...and often am confused about to whom it should be given.
And I am Oh, so very tired...and in search of a spark to rekindle the flame.
Tonight the days will begin to grow longer again. May they signal the start of a new era in human interaction.