Chapter One

Have you ever heard of the forgotten history of the human race? Probably not, being that it's the forgotten history. Well, I’ll tell you the story the way it was told to me:

A long, long time ago, before any Christs or Buddhas or grocery stores, there lived a group of humans. No one quite agrees on how they came to be. But it was clear they arrived and wanted to stay alive and they became very busy trying to do so. They ran from ferocious fanged creatures who wanted to eat them, they leapt over lava, dodged deadly berries and held each other tight whenever the Earth quaked… They were so busy surviving, they didn’t have much time for contemplating what was happening to them, but a couple rungs below consciousness, they understood something was always happening and that if they wanted to stick around, they needed to survive whatever it was.

In time, they figured it must be some sort of wind which kept blowing these happenings into their vicinity. Not the same wind that blew leaves and hair in a jumble in the air. But a greater wind. So great, it became known amongst these people as The Great Wind. In addition to being great, these people had a hunch it was also an angry wind, by the sheer fact it seemed hell bent on trying to kill them. 

Then one evening, a pivotal moment occurred. A moment that changed the course of these people’s lives forever and to this very day. It happened just after two of these people had fallen asleep on a boulder after a very tough day of surviving. When suddenly, they were awakened by a loud roar. The man opened his eyes, and saw before him a pair of dangling tonsils. Instantly, he realized he was gazing into the open mouth of a very hungry lion, a mouth which had plenty room for both he and his wife. In a panic, the man scanned his surroundings for an escape route, his preferred method of surviving, but as he pivoted left and right, the piece of boulder he was holding came loose, and without thinking, he plunged the sharp end right into the lion’s eyeball. And then, into the lion’s heart. And again and again until this lifeless lion lay in the center of his boulder, dripping all over the place. By this point, the woman next to him had been screaming for some time, and their neighbors who’d been sleeping on boulders nearby were now standing before them, their fig leaves asunder, astonished to see this lifeless and bloody animal. They took turns poking it to make sure it was in fact dead. And then, they studied the jagged rock, covered in blood and muck. Upon processing the situation, the people decided this jagged rock must have been a gift from the Great Wind. And because they had never received a gift from the Great Wind before, they looked up at the sky and felt gratitude.

After this incident, the people began looking for other gifts that the Great Wind might have blown onto their paths. Like a treasure hunt, they dug deep into the earth, feeling over every boulder and hard surface. Soon, every man, woman, and child had a jagged rock of their own, which they kept by their sides at all times. With this new protection, they weren’t as afraid of being eaten by the ferocious fanged creatures. And since they didn’t have to run and hide anymore, they decided to venture further than they’d ever dared to go.

They were particularly curious of what they might find past the point where the big trees stood tall. No one had ever ventured there before because it was imagined to be very dangerous. But perhaps there were other gifts inside, greater than the one’s they’d already found.

So one day, these people crept together deep into the woods, their jagged rocks held tight. Their eyeballs darting to the left and to the right. They walked for hours, twigs snapping beneath their bare feet, prickers pricking their calves. But they found nothing more than a jagged rock here and there. Then, one of the Elders grunted, pointing upwards, at a triangle of golden light which was shining like an arrow into the woods ahead. As the others looked up, they heard a roar. Everybody raised their weapons and stopped in their tracks. The men inched bravely toward this light, as the children clutched their mother’s legs, watching in nervous silence.

Past the trees, the men began yelling.
"Come quick! Come quick!"
The women and children hurried toward them, and what they saw made their jaws drop open. Before them was a clearing, where golden green grass swayed in the breeze and a stream of white water roared along hundreds of jagged rocks. And beside the stream, stood a single tree decorated with gigantic berries, more enormous than any of them had ever seen. 
The children dropped their jagged rocks and ran to the edge of the water before jumping in and splashing each other. And the adults gathered around this big tree waiting for one of the men who had climbed up to examine the big red berries. He ripped one from its branch, and then stabbed it with his jagged blade. The smell was so sweet, so he took a bite, and then he smiled, hurling the rest down to the others.
Everyone devoured the apples with delight, and they clinked their jagged rocks together and ran circles around the tree, making noises like the animals that used to scare them at night, and thanking the Great Wind for all the gifts they were receiving. 

By the end of the day, these people had collected so many gifts, it was far more than they could carry - dozens of apples, handfuls of jagged rocks and even other rocks with hollows to drink water from.
"How will we take it all with us?"
As the women began looking for some twine, one of the children whined,
"Why can’t we just stay here?"
"Stay?"
There was silence. These people had never thought of staying anywhere.
"We can’t stay. It’s too dangerous."
"Something horrible will blow in. It always does."
"Something that will destroy not only our sleeping boulders, but the flesh sacks of our loved ones!"
"But the Great Wind has given us this place as a gift," one child cried, "why would we leave?"
Perhaps the children were right. Perhaps the Great Wind did want them to stay.
"We’ll stay tonight," one of the Elders said. "And see what awaits us in the morning."

That night, the women found an enormous boulder with a hole inside big enough for all of them to fit. On the floor, was a carpet of moss, which felt much more comfortable than what they were used to. And after everybody set up their jagged rocks, pointy-side up, around the periphery of their cave, they went inside and for the first time in their lives, they all had a good night sleep. 

Chapter Two

Days turned to months in paradise, and though no one discussed it openly, it was clear no one was planning on leaving. People went about their days, avoiding eye contact with one another, hoping no one would breach the subject. But one evening, as the villagers were sharpening their jagged rocks preparing for their night protection, the eldest member of the village took it upon himself to walk amongst the villagers, asking everyone to join him in the communal cave for what would be their very first town meeting. 

"My dear friends, it is obvious we are to remain here in paradise permanently, Great Wind willing, and though I understand we haven’t had a need to communicate openly with each other in the past, I think it’s important that from now on, we do, for the sake of our future here together. The Great Wind has given us our biggest gift yet—like the birds that nest, we too now have a home. So let us cherish our gift, and spend a few moments giving thanks to the Great Wind, and extend a promise that we will cherish these gifts we have been given. From now on, I suggest we meet here every night to communicate with each other, and to give thanks to the Great Wind."

The villagers were thrilled. And they looked up at the sky and slapped their hands together hoping the Great Wind might hear their noises of appreciation.

One of the benefits of staying still was becoming familiar with their surroundings. Within weeks, the villagers had explored every inch of their new territory and memorized the best hiding spots for the most delicious plants. They also learned which plants were poisonous, which part of the river had the purest water, and which had the tastiest fish. These people also began noticing new things about the mysterious Great Wind, bringer of all circumstances. They noticed for instance that it blew in patterns—the sun blew to the highest part of the sky the same time every day. Likewise, it blew out of the sky the same time every day. There was rain and mud in spring, new food in the summer, and in the winter, the earth froze solid. In time, the villagers learned how these patterns could show them when to look for food, to gather water, and to protect themselves from predators. And as these people grew more accustomed to these patterns, they became better prepared, and being better prepared, for the first time, they developed routines.

The villagers were proud of their routines. It turned surviving into a dance of sorts, that could be fine-tuned and graceful, rather than the stumbling fear-based sprint they were used to. And in time, they performed their routines with ease. And with the ease they had, there was extra time to notice even more gifts from the Great Wind.
One afternoon, for instance, a woman was cleaning her cave, a new activity for these people who’d never lived in the same cave day after day, or had even known what a mess was, and as she was picking up piles of soil and branches for the fifth time that day and lugging it out the cave door, she realized she was dragging behind her a long branch with leaves attached which was doing a fine job of dragging the rest of the dirt without her having to bend down (which had begun to take a toll on her back.) And voila, the world’s first broom was invented.

Another person noticed one day, while squatting in the village crap pile, that little green shoots were sprouting from an old dung a few feet away. And when he looked closer, he saw that the little green shoots were growing from little tiny seeds, the same little seeds that speckled his own dung. After that, he pronounced to the village that their bowels had become magical—another, if not odd gift from the Great Wind. But from this awakening, the villagers realized whatever seeds they ate would give them more of those plants. And they began to organize their bowels which of course was the beginning of agriculture. 

Then another incident occurred while a child had been drawing pictures with his jagged rock on the wall of his cave. Suddenly, there was a spark and the brush he was sitting upon erupted in flames. Luckily the boy ran out of the cave unharmed, but when all the villagers gathered round to watch this mysterious orange wind flickering from out of the cave, they realized how nice it felt on their skins. In fact, they sat there for hours, mesmerized, bathing in its warmth, and when the fire died, the villagers wept. "I can do it again," the little boy, insisted. And when the little boy showed them how he’d made it happen, the villagers were amazed. And from then on, that cave became the village warming cave. 

On another evening, a little girl came home from fishing with her father and threw all their fish in the fire which she thought was rather amusing.
But as the child was being scolded by her father, all of the villagers emerged from their caves to find out what smelled so delicious. And when the little girl grabbed the charred tail of a fish from the fire to show them, she decided to take a bite of its center. And the villagers could see from her eyeballs that she was on to something. And thus began the dawn of cooking.

Suffice it to say that in just a few years, these people had laid the groundwork for the foundation of civilization. And with food in abundance, their bodies were healthier and so women were having more babies. And their village began to grow. They had so much food they fed the nearby animals in return for their helping to carry some of the bigger loads such as firewood and water. And for the first time in their history, they suddenly didn’t have to work so hard at surviving. Instead of surviving 24 hours a day, now it was maybe just 12 hours a day. And with all their free time, they frolicked in the lush green grass. And ate berries till their fingers and mouths were stained.

But there is only so much frolicking a person can do before they go stark raving mad, and that’s exactly what began to happen. 

These people never had so much time on their hands, and because they had no TV or high speed internet connection or shopping malls or swimming pools to distract them from being with all this free time, they began to not know what to do with themselves. And with this dilemma, they began doing something they’d never done before—they twiddled their thumbs. And before long, this twiddling turned to pondering. It wasn’t as though they picked what to ponder any more than they picked what was happening around them. Ponders beyond their control would simply blow inside their heads, as if by the Great Wind. Ponders like the taste of the fish they’d eaten for dinner. Or the interesting shape of their neighbor's bosom or sometimes they imagined they were translating the dialogues of chirping birds. But the more time they had to ponder, the pondering got deeper. They noticed they could even hold onto a ponder if it was particularly interesting and they wanted to understand it more. They called this thinking. And it wasn’t neurotic treadmill thinking that doesn’t get anywhere, but deep thinking. And one day, one of villagers thought out loud to the guy next to him, "Hey man, you know what, why the hell are we even here? I mean, what’s the frigging point?" And the other guy began to panic. "Oh, Great Wind, you know what, I never thought about that before!"

It was the first time anyone had ever thought about themselves in that capacity. And when this question began to spread throughout the village, many of the villagers began to freak out. "Oh my! What are we doing here? Who are we? Where are we?"  
Some villagers were so afraid, they gripped the ground all day because they feared the Great Wind was going to blow them away.
Some villagers screamed periodically. Others ran in circles. 
"Do you get it?" they shouted to no one in particular. "We’re born. Not knowing why? And then we just get taken off the planet? After trying years and years to stay alive?"

Because no one wanted to think these thoughts, they decided it would be best to stay busy. But since they no longer had so much to do, the busyness was craziness. 
Groups of villagers sat by the stream fishing 24 hours a day just to avoid being with their thoughts. Others gathered berries when they already had enough gathered for months. Others swept their caves seven and eight times a day even though it was already clean. It wasn’t long before the village Elder declared an emergency situation. "Attention, villagers," the Elder cried. "I call for a meeting. Everyone come to the communal cave at once!"

In the communal cave, the Village Elder spoke to vacant and fearful eyes. "My dear villagers, it seems our village has come down with a disease. The Great Wind has given us many gifts, but there have been consequences. The gift of free time has allowed us time to ponder and yet through this pondering it now comes to our attention that we are not sure why we are here. And honestly, I’m not sure this is a very good thing to think about."

"It’s the Great Wind," one of the villagers shouted. "We have taken advantage and the Great Wind is upset."

Then a frazzled looking woman stood up off her mat and began groveling at the Elder’s feet. "Please help us, Village Elder! We have food shelter water. All these gifts. And yet we are miserable. Please help us!" Then, a red faced and baffled looking beady eyed gentleman popped up in the back row. "I don’t understand," he said breathlessly. "When I look at what the Great Wind has given us, I can see that we must look happy. We must look happy, but inside our flesh sacks, we are miserable!"

Another man was pacing and muttering to himself in the rear of the cave. “We need to leave this land. We have discovered too much and the Great Wind is punishing us. We need to go back to running.”
"Who in their right mind would go back, knowing what we now know," his wife yelled, knocking him in the back of his head with irritation.

"Ok, Everyone, try to calm down," said the Village Elder. "Tonight, I have a request. Instead of pondering randomly and aimlessly, I want all of you to ask the Great Wind for help. Ask why we have become miserable. And then wait for an answer to appear on the insides of your flesh sacks. And for those villagers who have already gone completely insane, please make sure they are fed properly."

The villagers were frightened stiff by the thought of being still, but did as they were told. They returned to their caves and clasped their hands together to keep from twiddling their thumbs and looked up at the sky and pleaded, "Dear Great Wind, please tell us what is going on down here! Please help us!"

Chapter Three

Flacko and his buddy Nacho were two of the more creative teenagers in the village, but they never did as they were told. They were always getting into trouble for pondering during worktime and working during the village ponder. 

Because they had been born in the village and not in the wild, the elder members of the community were ceaselessly fed up with them. "You don’t know how it used to be, we used to have to sleep on a different boulder every night! We had to walk sometimes five miles just for a single berry to eat!"

            "Jeeze dad. It’s not my fault you guys didn’t know what you were doing."

            "Just give us some appreciation and do what you’re told."

            But the boys didn’t understand. They couldn’t. It was too removed from their reality. And so that night, they snuck out of their caves and walked past the outskirts of the village into the woods. "Imagine," Flacko scoffed, "thinking the Great Wind is angry. These people ponder like fools."

            They two walked to their favorite rock besides the roaring stream and were silent for some time.

            "Friend?"  Flacko said.

            "Yes, Flacko?"

            "I dare say, the Great Wind has just blown something quite interesting inside my flesh sack."

            "Do share."

            "I know… I know the answer to everyone’s pondering! I know why we are here!"

            "Why, friend?"

            "Nacho, we are here… by accident! The Great Wind has not given us gifts, we have merely found them by accident!"

            "Oh boy, your dad is not going to like this one bit."

The next night, at the town meeting, the Village Elder stood in front of his villagers,

and asked what answers everyone had received from the Great Wind. But there was only silence. "Nobody?  The Great Wind spoke to nobody?"

            Then Flacko, the skinny teenager, cleared his throat. 

            "Flacko, please, this is no time for goatplay."

            "Elder, forgive me, but though I am a prankster at heart, I happen to also be, a master ponderer."

            "What do you mean, Son."

            "What I mean is, I know why we are here."

            All the villagers gasped and turned to look at Flacko, including two of the eldest women in the village who pivoted their heads so quickly, the lose skin from their jowls batted them in their faces.

            "The Great Wind is not angry with any of you," Flacko announced. "The Great Wind cannot be angry because the Great Wind is nothing but the Great Wind. When I stepped on an ant today, do you think the ant went home and cowered with his fellow ants at a town meeting praying for forgiveness from the great foot?"

            Nacho laughed and slapped his knee.

            "That’s enough, Flacko. What is your point?"

            "The point is, I believe the reason we are here, is because of an accident."

            The villagers gasped once again.

            "What are you saying, boy?"

            "Please. There’s no need to get upset. An accident is merely a circumstance blown into existence by the Great Wind, colliding with another circumstance blown into existence by the Great Wind. And everything which exists in the universe, or at least on this planet, is the consequence of the Great Wind!

It’s like the apple tree that first grew in the village crap pile. That was an accident, right? But from that accident, we learned how to plant an orchard. When you repeat an accident, it’s no longer an accident, it’s on purpose. It’s deliberate. A deliberation.

            And as soon as an accident is repeated deliberately—it takes on a life of its own. And this life wants to survive—it doesn’t realize it’s an accident. On the contrary, it takes itself quite seriously. Take the case of ourselves: As soon as we realized we were alive, we wanted to survive. And so when we found things to eat and realized it kept us alive, we repeated these actions again and again and look at us now!  We are nothing but the consequence of repeating accidents."

            The villagers stirred with agitation.

            "Based on my pondering, there are two types of accidents which the Great Wind delivers: Favorable accidents, which cause people to feel lucky, as if they’ve received some great gift they should be thankful for. And unfavorable accidents, which cause people to raise both hands toward the sky and shout, “Why me Great Wind, what on earth have I done to deserve this?” With each type of accident, favorable or unfavorable, the person assumes that what is happening, is happening to them, and this tends to generate a series of reactions inside the person, ranging from very pleasant to excruciatingly unpleasant, and the person then decides, based on their experience of these reactions, what this means about themselves, their lives and even the world. And these meanings, when they are threaded over time, through multiple circumstances, create what we have come to call, reality. 

But here’s the interesting part: For a human to perceive an accident, they need what’s called an Attention. And every human seems to be born with one. And it’s the purpose of our Attention to focus on accidents to decide whether they’re favorable or unfavorable for our survival.  But what happens when the Attention has nothing to focus on?  Well, I’ll tell you. It loses its purpose and just gets blown around by the Great Wind till it gives up and disintegrates. Just like this little leaf here. It has nothing to anchor to, so it gets caught in the draft of the Great Wind. And sometimes it’s blown, and sometimes its left alone, but it’s fate is clear. The little leaf has no say what happens to it. Perhaps the little leaf is confused and it wonders, what’s wrong. Something is wrong. What am I doing here?

Well, that’s exactly what has happened to us. For the first time in our history, we have lost our original purpose. We are no longer anchored by having to run around all day to survive. We have everything we need, and yet, nothing is happening. And because we have nothing to focus on, our Attention is frustrated and it’s frantically looking for something to focus on so it can survive."

            "Did the Great Wind tell you this?" asked one of the villagers.

            "In a matter of speaking. I figured this out when our Elder asked us to ponder with the purpose of asking the Great Wind for help. When I focused my Attention on this purpose, my Attention was engaged, and I realized I was anchored once again. And being anchored, I realized the reason we have come down with this virus is because we have lost our original purpose. And that in order to cure ourselves, we need to invent a new purpose for our Attentions to focus on in order to survive in this new frontier. With deliberation, we can create our own purpose for being here!"

            Many of the villagers clapped, but many others still looked perplexed.

            "But what kind of purpose will we have," one of the villagers shouted.

            "Whatever purpose you want."

            "Will it cause suffering?"

            "If you get to pick out your purpose, Donald, I would hope you’d pick something that wouldn't cause any suffering."

            "Well, boy, tell us what kind of purpose you’re talking about!"

            "Well, for starter, how about we learn to survive better?Surely there are advancements we could make if we put our attentions on it."

            No one said a word, and so Flacko shrugged and sat down.

            "Thank you Flacko," the village Elder continued. "Thank you for your wisdom. I am as surprised as I am enlightened. Tonight, my fellow villagers, I request that you ponder what Flacko has discovered, and practice accessing your attentions in the privacy of your own caves. Just as the Great Wind blows through the land, it seems to also blow beneath our flesh sacks. So if you find a treasure, Grab onto it deliberately and find a way to make whatever you have found your purpose of bettering our village."

That night, the villagers pondered deliberately in their caves, and one by one, began to find their new purpose. One woman decided she would make it her purpose to keep all aspects of the village clean. Another, who was always cold during ponder sessions decided to make it his purpose to not to be cold and invented the world’s very first afghan. Another, whose son was always coming down with some sickness or another, made it her purpose to prevent illness by learning to communicate with the insides of the flesh sack, and invented the world's first herbal tea. And the Village Elder appointed Flacko with his life’s purpose: to be the town logician and problem solver, a post which unfortunately doesn’t exist in society anymore. 

To Be Continued…

©2020 Jessica Laurel Kane