A short story by Sha'Tara - local writer and friend.
I have been pondering the concept called ‘truth’ once more, to see if I’ve evolved in my understanding of it. As I was seeking ‘inspiration’ (i.e., translate as ‘mentally lazy’) I was editing some of the short stories in the files. This one touches on the subject of truth and how it draws us to making false assumptions if we think of it as an Absolute. I’m sending this around again as a reminder that ‘truth’ is not what we like to think it is.
Will it Happen Again?
[a short story by Sha'Tara - voice from the Other Side] (May, 2007)
"It is a beautiful world, isn't it Phelbe?" The tall Corm gestures towards a pink-tinged world caressed by streaking rays of light from two stars, one distant giant burning a dull red, one smaller and closer, glowing in bright white fire. "Look at how the snow shimmers pink on the tallest mountains. Look how the light catches the crests of sand dunes in the deserts!"
"The best we've ever done, Altazar my sweet love," the slight built female Corm replies with a broad smile. "I do not regret spending the full amount of time we were allotted to this one on the extra details. Her yellow forests and the great purple rivers across wide rolling plains covered in ground-covering succulents, ah! She is truly beautiful. By my measurements, her auric fields extend farther than any other world we have created, and she so young. If I had human feelings, I would say I'm proud of this accomplishment."
"So then, our time is up in this sector?" voices a third Corm; a winged translucence catching the diffused light in its stretched membranes, opening up to the solar winds readying for flight. "The Council has been awaiting our completion with growing impatience. With respect, if you are ready please attach to my belt and I shall translate us to Eulona to give our report."
The Corms mindspeak as they translate from U-21 back to their home world in U-77, surrounded by the whirling and spiraling lights distorting all elements in each dimension they shift through. They pay it little heed, so concerned are they about their new child.
Altazar speaks of his concern regarding his beloved humans scattered in small tribes over the planet. "I wonder if we shouldn't bring in the Motimiles again to nurture them further, rather than just leave them like this? They will miss us terribly."
The translucent Corm, a winged Aaloni called Killiikoa sub-vocalizes his thoughts. "We know from experience friends that the longer we nurture them, the more attached they become. Always the danger they should begin the worship pattern for us. On the world they now call Twilight, you remember of course, we allowed a benign sort of worship as a way to extend our presence after we left. They quickly substituted our images as their creators for a proud and unnatural Motimile who claimed to be their new Creator. When the subterfuge was discovered and the Motimile was removed, you will sadly remember they were addicted to worship of unseen gods then. They continued to worship the Motimile, re-creating him in ways bound only by their imagination. How many gods and goddesses do they worship now on Twilight?"
"My dear Killiikoa," replies Phelbe in mindspeak. "I remember well these events, as does the Council. We suffer much in empathy with Twilight and her people now. Their divinities are beyond count and forever these people, now lowered to the status of pseudo-human by the Council and blocked from access to the main human process, are spiritually stunted and forever embroiled in vicious and terribly destructive wars. Poor Twilight has become the shadow world of U-6."
Altazar mindspeaks to both of his partners: "It is true what the Vigilants warned us about, that given enough time almost all developing pre-ISSA or pre-human beings, as they pass through the difficult stage of separation from their creators to gain their own spiritual independence, get trapped in the worship loop. They have so many questions in their awakening that only their own intelligence and observation can answer for them, from correct to incorrect to correct, ad infinitum. But they want it all immediately. They want what they call "the truth" as if there were such a thing. How can they reason that "the truth" can only exist as comprising the All Thing into infinity? Since infinity is infinite, how can there be "truth" with a conclusion?
"They are like their own children yet cannot see this. If only they would listen to the messages left for them at the beginning and seek to understand the process of spiritual and mental growth. We have tried every possible way to introduce the spark that jumps them to the status of ISSA consciousness but each time they latch onto us and won't let go. They fear that if they lose sight of us we will take their life-spark away when we leave. When we do leave, they invent or create gods in their own image and worship those helpless idols, defending them and turning on one-another to force "others" to worship their particular invention."
"Will it happen again, on this new creation?" muses the winged Killiikoa. "We are not permitted to form the future for the Beginners. For obvious reasons they must create it for themselves. My question in this moment is, have we made these new ones more understanding of process than we did with the others? If not, do we possess suitable, incorruptible Motimiles to guide them into creating their own future instead of moving backward through space/time by re-creating God?"
Their conversation ends as the shift completes at the Eulona translation point. From the surface, three points of light are seen passing through the atmosphere to angle down upon the soft grassy top of the Inverted Dome of Shalik. All three Corms bow deeply to the Councilors sitting silently upon the blue grass.
"Good news, friends?" asks Demos, current verbalizer for Corm thought consciousness.
"Good news, friend," openly mindspeak the three Creator Corms, providing the ritualistic reply as they sit and join Council to partake of the task-completion ambrosia.
Sub-vocalizing through her private love channel to Altazar, Phelbe asks rhetorically, "Why must it always be good news? Are we becoming afraid of failure, Altazar my love?"
Momentarily saddened, he does not answer her.
Corms: the makers, creators.
Motomiles: angelic nurturers and teachers.
U-##: Various universes, so numbered for reference.
ISSA: acronym for intelligent, sentient, self-aware beings.