The End of Slavery
Page 6
Chapter Six
Michael sat in the back of the agents SUV hunched over against the door watching the road go by and working his grandfather's watch chain through his fingers. Agents Spencer and Gonzales were in the front; Agent Spencer talking on the phone and Agent Gonzales driving. The three of them were on their way to an old safe-house that the government had outside of Sterling. His grandfather used to take him this way out to the Pawnee Grasslands every now and then to do a little hiking and to see what kind of birds they could find. Michael enjoyed the drive, the familiar scenery, and the peaceful time to think.
He was still feeling uncertain about his emotional explosion. In his mind he figured that it was what freedom felt like, but he still wasn't very happy about it. What he noticed was the push and pull between the feeling of power, and the lack of vision or a sense of direction. He didn't know what to do, if anything. He kept thinking of his old rule, over and over again; trust what you feel, trust what you think, but never trust what you think you feel. And that was where he was looking for strength, because he was well aware that power without direction was very dangerous. And he was trying like mad to be still and accept the world around him as it was. He had an image in his mind that any small move made out of arrogance or ego could change everything for the worse. This sense of freedom was new to him and he didn't want to take it for granted and blow it. So, he passed his time remembering his grandfather, vowing to remain still until it became perfectly clear in what direction he should go.
They were well out of Denver in the open grasslands before the two Agents finally settled down. The phone conversations were over and everyone had been perfectly quiet for a little while.
Agent Spencer broke the silence, “Are you alright Michael?”
“Yes, I'm fine.” He responded peacefully. “I was just thinking about my grandfather.”
“Does he live in Denver?” “No. He passed away a fifteen years ago.” “I'm sorry,..” “That's OK.” “Were you close?” “Yes, we were...” “What did he do for a living?” “When I knew him he was retired, but prior to that he was a philosophy professor.” Michael thought for a moment and decided to continue.
“My grandmother died before I was born, and I was only a couple of years old when my father left. My grandfather moved in with us to help my mother out. We spent allot of time together. My older brother and sister were in school already, so it was me and him home all day long until I started going to school as well. I have always felt sorry for my brother and sister, because they never bonded with him the way I did.”
Agent Spencer turned to look out the window to hide her face.
“So, your parents didn't get along?” Agent Gonzales asked.
“Um,.. I think they got along until the unexpected things started to happen. My sister and brother were born a year apart, and then four years later I came along. My parents were not the type of people to have planned something like that. From my perspective, it is clear that I was a mistake and my parent's regimented sense of order and repressed emotionality couldn't handle it.” He paused to think about things, “They couldn't cope with things that weren't planned.”
A little time passed in silence. “It is kind of funny if you think about it. From my perspective it is emotional energy that made me this way. My brain developed during a period of emotional intensity, and it is my opinion that energy had an effect on how my brain wired itself; making it just a little bit different from everyone else's. You know, like they say that listening to Mozart affects how a baby's brain develops,.. Or if a person loses their sight, their brain will compensate by focusing more on the other senses, even to the point of rewiring itself a little. I believe it is that way with emotional energy too. Especially if it is very intense emotional energy transmitted by frustrated parents who did not know how to cope with unexpected burdens very well. What I find funny is that my parents frustration made me different, which compounded their frustration.
“Anyway, it was a year after my grandfather died that I decided to get out of my mother's house. Things were alright while my grandfather was around, but when he died, it became clear to me that something was going on... something that wasn't healthy. This was before I started looking into understanding myself, so I didn't have even the smallest clue about anything. But, in that year, as I tried to separate myself from her, first physically then emotionally, I realized that my mother and I were caught in an emotional feedback loop of sorts. She would worry about me, I would feel that worry and project it in my own way worrying about her, sacrificing myself to ease her worry, and then she would feel that and distort it again. In the end, we became emotionally locked into that loop.”
Agent Spencer continued to look out the window, fighting back the tears. All she could think of was how distant her mother was to her after her youngest brother was born. Was that what made her father leave; the emotional feedback loop? She never got the sense that it was either of her parents fault for the divorce, it simply happened. However, listening to Michael, it seemed to her that it was indeed something that they did not understand happening to them. And because they did not understand what was happening, there was nothing they could do about it.
“That is why I have this watch chain. At first, I used it as part of a little routine I had to separate my feelings from my mother's. I had a little prayer that I would say frequently, to remind myself that I had to pay attention to what I was feeling. Since then, I have learned to distinguish between my emotions and other people's fairly well, but I found that my mother's emotions were impossible to distinguish from my own. Instead, I had to learn to be constantly vigilant in paying attention to what was happening around me... making sure that my emotions had context. I have no doubt that it was this effort to separate myself from my mother that taught me so much about how I interacted with everyone else. I had to learn to look around at what was happening around me before accepting responsibility for an emotion that I felt. So many times I would feel the repressed anger of someone else and watch as I would start to act out on those feelings without ever knowing why I was doing it.” Michael paused to take a deep breath. “Now, it is just a habit that helps me to focus.”
Agent Gonzales laughed to himself as he quickly checked to make sure his Eight Year coin was where it was supposed to be. How many times had he crushed that coin into the flesh of his hand as he resisted the urge to join everyone else in the drinks they were having. It was the same battle to keep separate from them and remain in control of himself. It was only a few months ago that he realized how established this routine to avoid falling off the wagon was. It was at a wedding reception of one of his wifes cousins. He holds the coin and crushes it into his hand when the urge is great, and every hour or so he steps outside on his own to say a little prayer, reminding himself to be in control. At the end of the night, his wife takes his hand in hers and gently massages around the perfect imprint the coin has made in his palm. Then she rewards him as only she could for his effort.
“My mother's friend had an empty apartment and they arranged for me to move in. My mother paid my rent for a little while. I think they had the idea that it was a small phase that I was going through, but after a short time, a very busy time for my thoughts, I worried that they would change their minds and I would end up back at my mother's house. So, I went out and got a job at the Federal Building to ensure that I never had to go back there... for both of our sakes.” Pausing to watch some geese fly overhead. “It was touch and go for a while. My mother was hurt and we argued. I think she grew accustomed to the feedback loop and felt lonely when it stopped. She would show up at my apartment and insist on doing things for me. At first I let her, not being able to understand what was going on and, thus, not being able to fight back. But, the more I understood about myself, the more I was able to make small little fights. And, I think, over time, she slowly became used to it anyway.”
Michael was finished talking and they drove on in silence for a long while.
-----
“Micheal, I don't mean to be rude, but I have to tell you that Dr. Turnable told us that his professional opinion was that you were delusional. I'm sorry, but I just feel that I should share this with you.”
Michael smiled and suppressed a little laugh. “That's OK. I would have been surprised if he didn't.”
“Why is that?”
He took a deep breath, “There is a psychological fact that states, the harder a person works to achieve a goal or understanding, the less likely they are to consider it to be flawed or imperfect, or even listen another view. Unfortunately, by my experience, psychologists have a hard time applying that fact to themselves... They can be ferociously unwilling to accept that someone might know themselves better than they do.” Michael paused to take another deep breath. "My whole life has been questions, probes, and studies; all to determine the state of my mental wellness. In the end, it all revolves around the story we tell ourselves. They have always told me a story where I was broken and they were not, and they knew exactly how I was broken and they knew the best way for me to go about my life. My mental wellness was measured by whether or not I accepted their story. This afternoon I told Dr. Turnable a story about myself where I was not broken and I, not he, knew what was best for me. Our conversation began very good, but then something happened, something knocked him off balance, and out of reflex he tried to exert his story onto me.” Michael paused, “Something about the experiences over the past two days has made it so I cannot accept that anymore... So I didn't.”
“So, Dr. turnable is wrong?” Agent Gonzales said bristling a little.
“Agent Gonzales... it is not a question of one person being more right than another person. It is the fact that no one can be more right about me than I am; no one can more right about you than you are; and no one can be more right about Dr. Turnable than he is. The conflict comes when people want to force other people to accept their story as a universal truth. Universal truths do exist, two plus two and all of that, but not when we consider human individuality and freedom. Every person is unique, thus, every persons perception of freedom is different. Some people think freedom is working a nine to five job and spending their weekends in the garden. They get angry at anyone who doesn't want to live their lives the way they do, and blame them for all the problems in the world. Others consider that slavery and think that freedom is climbing mountains... or surfing.”
Agent Gonzales understood this well from his own thoughts and experiences. He has always considered his psychic aunt and her children as free loading nut jobs; spending all of their time on crazy art projects and other things that don't seem to have any value. However, he had to admit, they always got by and they were always happy. He decided that he needed to really take his wifes advice and to let it go. It was her opinion that he would be more frustrated with them if they were working with him in his job than if they were off doing the crazy things that they were doing. He always knew she was right; working for the government was frustrating and confusing enough without the touchy-feely artsy-fartsy types getting involved. At this Agent Gonzales quietly laughed to himself. “I have to admit that, when I saw your Tarot cards all arranged on your table, I couldn't help but think you were a bit crazy like my aunt.”
“Is she crazy?” Michael asked playing along.
“Not technically, but she buys into all that New Age stuff and reads Tarot cards herself.”
Michael laughed, “I jokingly call those people Grunters.”
“Why is that?”
“Well... people must learn to grunt before they learn to speak. It is like in the whole evolution of verbal communication... it all began with grunting. So, now, imagine that a new form of communication is evolving into our consciousness, and people are starting by learning how to grunt. The hard part is the fact that our society is constructed around five senses, so a sixth sense has to battle against all sorts of preconceptions for it to surface respectfully. Thus, people have a tendency to hear one grunt and then build a whole mythology and religion around that single sound; a mythology and religion based on a five sense understanding... Thinking that one single grunt was some universal truth and the fact that they heard it and no one else did somehow makes them better.”
Agent Gonzales was laughing, “I like that... psychics will hear a grunt every now and again in this form of communication and act as though it is some sort of universal truth. I need to tell this to my aunt.”
Michael was enjoying the lightness of Agent Gonzales. He went on to tell them about his theories of where Tarot cards came from, how they were first used, and how they evolved into what people perceive them to be today. Then, following the stream of his own thoughts, he decided to continue. “I have never shared some of these things before, so I am not too certain how they will come out. I have also developed a story about Moses and and the Ten Commandments... In the Bible, God descends down as a pillar of fire and speaks to all the Israelites and the sound of his voice drives them crazy. So, God instructs Moses to build a fence around Mt. Sinai and to meet him at the top. If he could make Moses to understand him, why couldn't he make everyone else to understand him? Was he declaring Moses to be king? I don't think God would work that way. Not if we consider all the other stories in the Bible. To me, God either did not know that the sound of his voice would drive them nuts, or he was trying to show something to all those people. My story is that God wasn't naive or stupid, he simply communicates with emotional energy. And since the Israelites had no idea, they reacted to the sound of his voice as though it were their own emotions. God descended and spoke to them that way to show them that they couldn't understand him... it was a practical lesson. Then he gave Moses the Ten Commandments, which are a lesson plan for learning the emotional language.” He paused a moment. “The first step, the First Commandment, is a salutation, which is the first step in understanding something as a language... but, people were lost and confused because they built a mythology around the single grunt they heard from God when they saw the pillar of fire. If those people recognized that they could feel each other's emotions, they would be able to understand what they were feeling was a language. Then, maybe, if they understood that our communities are a projection – a manifestation – of our ability to communicate, they would have seen that God was trying to teach people how to communicate more effectively so that they could build a better, more efficient, and more complex community.” Michael took a moment to decide whether to take the final step in his explanation, “In their confusion, people use the Ten Commandments as laws to be used to control other people in order to artificially manufacture a healthy community. But, from my perspective, the Ten Commandments are a lesson plan, that when followed by the free will of individuals to improve their own ability to communicate, they enable those people to naturally manifest a healthier community, that constantly increases in structure and complexity, without trying.”
Agent Gonzales tried to listen, but could not get past the image of his aunt as a gorilla. He was tired and slap happy. So, he tried to head off the whole thing by asking jokingly and rhetorically in a funny voice, “Since you have all the answers, what is to blame for all the worlds problems?”
Michael looked out the window, aware of the knot of anxiety that had just crept into his stomach. He did notice the light tone that Agent Gonzales asked the question with, but inside he felt the need to take advantage of the moment and answer seriously. At very least for his own sake; for the opportunity to give voice to his thoughts. He took a few breaths and let go of the need to respond to the light and humorous side. This was a serious topic that should not be taken lightly for fear of being misunderstood. It is what his grandfather said was on the other side to the adage of not casting your pearls before swine; the side that focuses on how a person shares the things that are
important to them and not who we share them with. His grandfather told him that everyone deserves more information, but we should always be careful how we shared the information that was important to us.
“I know you were joking, but I am going to answer your question anyway. I think the best way to understand my perspective is to ask what you think is the greatest cause of threat to human survival.”
Agent Gonzales was quick with a response, “Nuclear weapons and fuel, used or just laying around and decaying.”
“Pollution and all the problems it causes.” Was Agent Spencer's input.
“From my perspective those are not causes, those are tools, or symptoms, of the greatest threat to human survival.” He let them sit quietly thinking for a moment before he began again. “Imagine a tribe of people in a peaceful valley. This tribe had been in that valley for a very long time and had every aspect of their life tuned and balanced. A part of their system was to keep a lookout posted on top of the mountains on both sides of the valley. These lookouts had big hollow logs to pound on at any sign of approaching trouble or opportunity. Different rhythms were used to signal different types of things that they saw; a beat for unfriendly tribes approaching, a beat for friendly tribes approaching, a beat for forest fires, a beat for game animals out on the range, and so on. In this example, what is the greatest known risk to their survival.”
“A poor lookout.” Agent Gonzales was again quick to respond.
“That is right. But, poor how? How many different ways can a lookout be bad?” Michael decided to make the question rhetorical and continued on. “The lookout could lack discipline and focus and fall asleep, making the tribe vulnerable. The lookout could also have a bad memory and forget what the signals were so that the people in the valley would not understand what the lookout was seeing. The lookout could be childish and decide to have fun with the tribe by sending false signals. And, worse still, the lookout could be devious and connive a way to use false signals, putting the tribe at risk, for their own gain.”
“So, the cause of the greatest threat to our society is poor communication.” Agent Spencer sad quietly.
“Exactly... communities survive on their ability to collect, process and act on information. Any problem, any man made disaster you can think of would be the result of a breakdown, or an inefficiency in that process. Politicians lie to save their image, corporations pay scientists to contradict other scientists so they improve their bottom lines, people ignore obvious problems as though they were asleep because they do not want to be responsible, and the list of examples goes on and on of simple little breakdowns in our communication structure. All of which by themselves have the potential to cause great destruction, never mind their effects when taken together. Nuclear bombs will only be used if honest and sincere communication fails.”
A natural pause in the conversation allowed them all to think a little, then Agent Gonzales blurted, “The owner of the diner said you were a walking lie detector!”
Michael smiled while looking out the window, “The survival of a community depends on accurate and efficient communication. As the community becomes more complex, the structure of communication needs to become more complex to sustain it. Today, you will notice that our community is falling apart because the complexity of our community has grown beyond the ability of our understanding of communication to sustain it. From this point there are two options... either the community must become smaller and less complex, or our structure of communication needs to become more efficient and complex.”
“But isn't that what cell phones and the internet are doing?” Asked Agent Spencer.
“Are they adding to the structure of communication or they simply adding to the volume of communication? Are cell phones and the internet allowing people to communicate more accurately and efficiently, or are they simply adding to the amount of inaccurate information being shared. Making communication less efficient since people have to spend more time trying to figure out what is true and what is not true, if they can at all. Remember, the bad guys are using the same system to disseminate false information.”
With this the Agents drifted off into their own thoughts. Both of them thinking about the sheer volume of information they have to sift through every day and how much of it they completely uncertain of. If they only new that they both figured that at least eighty percent was questionable. Agent Spencer then became hung up on what Director Peirce had told her; that the politicians were restricting the information they could pursue. And going over and over in her head was the idea that there was more truth in the flow information than there was in the information itself. Collect, process, and act.
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