III ยท MMXXIII
As much of my past life memory slowly but surely returns to my perception free of corruption, this one I hold dear and treasure.
I knew his words were strong. I knew his words were important. Above all I knew his words, and his voice commanded, motivated, excited, inspired, and united. Much of his speech I can't remember, but the way millions of people moved in unison in reaction to his voice was a sight to behold. Like waves in the ocean (something I had only heard about back then, as I only had our beautiful river to gaze upon.).
My father, was a true hero. I had always admired him. Not only for his ability to move an ocean of people, but for the way he treated all those near to him, family or not. He truly loved every human being that had the pleasure of meeting him.
His respect for my mother was always unwavering, and it set the example in which myself and all others would strive for anytime we addressed her. She was the royalty that even he, the king of our land would bow to every time she entered the room, while the rest of us kept our respects and also bowed. It didn't matter if he bowed so low his lips touched her feet. It was our duty to always bow lower.
In bowing, so many cloth of gleaming white I would dirty out of respect for my parents. Servants were always quick to replace them the moment a speck of dust appeared. I never really liked the fact that it was so. I actually enjoyed the earth upon my person. They would chase me around the "House", which due to its size - sometimes bought me hours of extra time to collect as much dirt as possible before they could change me.
To many this may sound like the life of a child, but it continued well into my years and is one of my fondest memories.
The soil, so dark and rich, and so aromatic - full of life giving nutrients. There was little that would not grow in it, and there was little we had not planted from all corners of the world to grow.
Having escaped my mother's servants, I would often steal an apron in order to be among the garden workers. I would help them plant everything from seeds to bushes, and even the occasional fully grown tree. Any opportunity I had to dig into that wonderful dirt - I ran towards, insisting that the workers step back and take a break. A small protest - then a bow upon recognition from these workers usually marked the end of my "dirt time", as the clothing servants rushed in to strip it all away, and re-cloth me in the boring, colorless white garments that only pleased the eye when put as backdrop to heavy jewels, and heavy makeup.
When my Mother and father were absent, I had coined them "the clothing serpents", as all too often they would "accidentally" pinch me with fingers and jewels during the process. Most likely in protest to my avoidance.
Except for her. She was always gentle, and always laughed every time I yelped in sharp pain, then proceeded to scold them. I enjoyed her smile so much I often rehearsed what I would say if pinched, in the hopes of drawing it out. Sometimes even faking being pinched, which the "serpents" wouldn't dare deny.
There was no fear of punishment, it was a culture of pure respect, and true admiration. A culture of honor and mutual communion to better each other and humanity as a whole. My father had no need to enforce this, nor did my mother, or even the law people who had grown lazy from the lack of violations occurring. Everyone simply enjoyed upholding these ideals, with every one of their senses. It was a community where every service, for every need was available, or would be made available. People would travel for miles to help each other, or to help celebrate special occasions. I didn't have much opportunity to see how they traded goods and services, but it was a system that seemed to be working well.
It was also a system of creation. A great many people took time out of their days to practice whatever art they enjoyed most, and would often bring these creations to our home as gifts. I collected so many works of art, was introduced to a great many new instruments and sounds of music, and tasted so many new types of food that my mind began to confuse them all.
I hadn't heard her laugh as hard as when I asked her what she listened to for her mid day meal, then stumbled to correct myself only to ask if she had seen any new sounds that day.
I remember that day well. I think it was the first time I experienced anxiety in my fairy tale life, as my father marched past us with a group of men carrying papyrus, in such a hurry they fumbled to hold them.
It wasn't the walk, the tone of his voice, nor the look on his face that struck fear into me. It was how he walked straight past my mother who was coming out of the doorway, and could barely acknowledge her presence. Her smile quickly dropped, as her servants struggled to keep up behind her as she ran to his side and they all entered the hall of business.
Trying not to be disturbed, I went back to making jokes to her, but she was called away, then more men came marching past me, wearing clothes I had never seen before. Pacing around the garden, I watched more and more, all in different clothes, and shades of skin come in like waves, until it seemed like men from all corners of the earth had arrived, and the hall doors could not be closed.
I hugged whatever vegetable I had just plucked from the soil and began to move closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening.
Men and women, in all different languages were yelling, as if their family had been murdered and they were seeking someone to blame. I had no idea what they were saying, but it was clear something was happening. Something big. The "clothing serpents" pounced on me, yanked the vegetable from my grasp and whisked me away.
Looking back, my father glanced from the center table at me. I can't begin to describe the look in his eyes, but it felt like we made eye contact for many years in those few moments. It was the first time I saw fear on his face. An almost hopeless, regretful fear. As if he had already admitted defeat in a battle that had not yet been faught.
It was some time before I saw my parents again. Days had passed, and only servants were my company in the house.
I layed awake, staring at a full moon when my father finally came in and sat at my bedside. For some reason, as much as I wanted to jump up and embrace him, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
He placed his hand on my head and gently placed my hair into it. Another first for him and I, but for some reason the warmest and most comforting feeling he had ever given me.
I struggle to remember the exact words in our native tongue, but what he said softly would change the course of my lives forever. In what I can only quote profanely now, he spoke little, but much:
"Your Mother, I, and all of humanity will need your courage, but only say but one word in protest and I will task this curse to another. You, my legacy, are the only one I trust enough to carry out this duty. Forgive me my son, for what I endure now you must too endure, but in a land, and a time that is foreign to all of us."
It mattered little at the time the impact of what he was saying. I sat up and simply began hugging him as hard as I could. He held me back tightly and began to sob.
Still completely ignorant of what was happening, I tried my best to stay strong, "like a rock", and channel feelings of comfort, security, and cosmic wisdom that all would be ok. Just as he taught me to do anytime I was met with any person in distress who came into my presence and needed relief, regardless of class, rank, race, or gender.
After that night, I became a fixture at his side. He made it my duty to be by his side, to learn, to observe, and to serve when asked to. My days with him from waking to sleep were so filled with talks, and learning, and reading, and writing I barely had time to get a spec of dirt on my clothes. I was removed so far from my carefree life that it would not have mattered, for the clothing serpents were nowhere near.
Scientists, war lords, speakers, guys with too much material to have compassion for anything else. In and out of my father's chambers for days. Every one of them with some concern, or problem that My father was to handle.
Normally he would handle these "problems", with open arms, and cheerful glee, in the charismatic way that would have you begging for his company.
Not now. He had entered a mode of execution (not literal) that demanded utter discern, careful curation, and epic amounts of importance. Men were quickly thrown out by force by the simple mention of compensation, need for assistance in petty matters, or anything else that put the person's need above the needs of others. For now, more than ever, it wasn't just the needs of others he was focused on. It was the need of all. All life, human and non-human, big and small, pleasant and disrespectful, warring and peaceful, rich and poor, thief and philanthropist, drunken and sober, sleeping and waking, walking and laying, flying and swimming, climbing and crawling, predator and prey, young and old. Not a single living plant, animal, or human was exempt from the responsibility my father was now assigned, for not a single living being on the planet would survive if he failed to meet it.
We made eye contact many times each day, but unlike the day of the news, I never saw fear in his eyes again. I saw hope, I saw determination, I saw wisdom, I saw understanding. I saw faith.
I saw a man who truly cared so much, and who truly understood the inner and outer workings of the divine forces, that there was no if, there was no how, there was only when.
I saw a man, who stood above an ocean of people, not only to tell them everything would be great, but to also tell them that each and every one of them had the right to help in doing so. He, and many others, all working in unison had rediscovered a past thought forgotten, and found in it the exact hope and the exact way to fixing a problem of unimaginable size and scale. He, and many others banded together as Humans, and knew that such a project could only be completed if every human participated.
And they did. Every one of them, including myself, and my mother did. In any and every way they could, or couldn't, humans found a way to participate, from the smallest contributions like making shade, to larger contributions like transporting massive amounts of rock and earth. Some calculated numbers, while others calculated the perfect music for them to hear to help them think. Some grew food to feed masses, others collected food to feed even more.
There wasn't a single human being on the planet that didn't have a common goal. Not a single human had put their personal gains and interests before the cause at hand. They gave freely, sometimes too much. For every resource exhausted, for every fortune lost(donated), someone else came along to replenish, and reimburse. All in service, and participation in the most beneficial, and the Greatest Work the species of man has ever known.
To be complicit, to withhold for yourself, to deny the need of another, was to not be human at this time. Those who chose not to participate, those who felt we'd be better off otherwise, didn't enjoy that feeling for very long. Eventually these "reluctant leaders" found themselves at the front lines in bigger ways than the biggest enthusiasts had. Eventually one of my father's biggest critics found himself at our table, as we laughed and told stories of weird animals in far off lands.
It wasn't a complete utopia, humans still behaved as humans, and all the human things humans do still occured. Yet there was a general consciousness that any crime or violation during this time was a crime against humanity. The severe punishment of the soul for getting in the way of progress was enough for most to keep them as productive do gooders. For those that crossed that line, sheer guilt and shame drove them to self inflicted punishment, as everyone around them reminded them that they could be responsible for all life on the planet ceasing to exist. It was enough to simply be exiled or ignored at this time by your deeds that only the laws of nature were at play. Even groups that had formed to take advantage of others simply dissolved, as they discovered the wealth and abundance of working together towards a common goal. A common goal with no rules on how to participate, and nothing stopping you from doing whatever you decide can be of most value.
A common goal, that my father knew I could only be a part of for a time, but unable to stay for it's completion. A common goal that once completed I would only know of after regaining my memory many lifetimes later. The success of which would only be marked by my survival, and being witness to the life it sustained long after the truth was forgotten.
My father's legacy, the royal seat of my mother, the assembly of our house - have all since passed, dissolved, and been retired to history. I'm slightly relieved by this, for I have no desire to rule over any land but my own. Nor could I recall all the mundane politics and business he undertook. The thought of having that title and responsibility in today's world is even less appealing. Aside from these short memories, I can barely recall what it's like to be a prince, let alone remember what it's like to be king. I remember my father. The look in his eyes the last time I saw him still fills me with inspiration. Still fills me with hope. Still covers me in a golden blanket of confidence.
I could see his faith, in the universe, in all humans, and in me. I could feel his respect, for my mother, for all life on the planet, and for me.
My eyes, I pray now carry the same.
And I remember her. Her laugh, her smile, her smell, her skin, her hair - have all but turned to dust. The look in her eyes as she lowered me under the water for my last moments that lifetime- still fills me with love. Still fills me with care. Still fills me with admiration. Still covers me in a golden blanket of compassion.
I could see her faith, in the universe, in all humans, and in me. I could feel her love, for joy, for wonder, for all life on the planet, and for me.
My eyes, I pray now carry the same, but with the discipline and respect my father gave to my mother. (All too easy for these eyes to feel that way in search of her not knowing what she looks like now) (she would have laughed at that)
An ocean of people. Moving and swirling around in waves of moderately communed goals and causes.
An ocean of people, that I'm unsure have been waiting, or will even remember why I left, or how I got here.
An ocean of people walking straight past Mother Nature into a hall of affairs.
I pray the ocean of people will bow to her, for she has no king to follow and catch up with. No son to journey long and far to beg her for her nurturing motherly love. She is Queen, the Royal seat, and even an ocean of people can't stop her from leaving.
She stands at the stairs, ready to leave the ocean of people, taking her servants with her once again. Never to return.
It was the same stairs she stood upon and began to leave that became the problem of my Father. His duty - to find a way to replace her life giving essence with a suitable match. My father knew, it was to be made by an ocean of people, and it was. My Father knew far better than I - why he sent me and the importance of my journey. Humanity was successful, and thanks to them the ocean of people still moves. We all knew that success would only last so long. Now, I see the wisdom of my father, of the high priests, and the ocean of people who all knew the importance of my journey.
I pray, that like my father, I can find the help I need to once again unite the ocean of people in the Greatest Work they have ever known.
The ocean of people may never see the look of fear my father once had, for these eyes refuse to carry it. These eyes have already seen the success, and have no fear or anxiety towards what can be done.
When the time comes - in this lifetime I journeyed to - I will look an ocean of people in the eye - hold them - and channel feelings of comfort, security, and cosmic wisdom that all will be ok. Just as my father taught me to do - anytime I was met with any person in distress - who came into my presence and needed relief - regardless of class, rank, race, or gender.
Like a rock.Solid as the shield all humans will once again unite to complete.
Older. Wiser. And more secure. Fortified with knowledge and wisdom that won't be forgotten. With technology that won't grow obsolete and decay. Technology that will only be upgraded and made stronger.
Technology that will grow and evolve, as all the life within its protective shield will in the absence of a Queen Gaia, in the absence of a mother spirit. Self-sustaining, independent, and responsible.
A species leaving the nest, learning to fly.