Random Thoughts from a Nonlinear Mind: Volume 2: The Athena Chapters,
Chapter Five:
Random Pulses of Bliss
Buford Lister lives in a one-dimensional world. His universe is a straight line, a simple number line; everyone, by necessity, lives somewhere on the line. There is nowhere else to go, nowhere else to be. Consequently, all one needs to find someone else (or any location) on the line is a single piece of information.
He called Keira, a woman he had just met the previous evening, and invited her out to lunch. “Sure, Buford Lister. I would love to meet you for lunch. Where do you want to meet?” Buford Lister thought for a few seconds before saying, “Meet me at 7.6, I am leaving right now.”
*****
Are you keeping up with the results from the Large Hadron Collider (LHC)? Do you even have any idea what it is? Perhaps even more importantly, do you have any clue as to why I am starting yet another essay about Athena off with a discussion about a particle accelerator and the mini black holes that it just might create? I didn’t think so. Well, let’s get right to it and see if we can’t shed a little light on these dark mysteries.
The LHC is a massive particle accelerator located at CERN, a facility near Geneva, Switzerland. About 100 countries are involved in this enormous project. Because the facility employs about 10,000 scientists and engineers, it is the ultimate expression of big science writ large. It probably won’t surprise you to learn that the LHC is the most complex piece of equipment human beings have ever created; yes, even more complicated than the Space Shuttle.
This machine takes beams of protons or lead ions and accelerates them to 99.9999991% the speed of light. Why? Simply so the beams can be smashed together to create particles that we mere mortals have never seen; particles that would have been present during the creation of the universe. In effect, we (meaning humanity) are trying to replicate the conditions present right after the Big Bang. That is so very cool. As you might imagine, there are all kinds of things we can learn by doing that.
You might have heard of the Higgs Boson (aka The Higgs), also unfortunately known as the God Particle. Nobel Laureate Leon Lederman gave it that unfortunate nickname in a ploy to sell more copies of his fantastic book; a tome surprisingly called The God Particle. Lederman has joked that he wanted to call the book The Goddamn Particle, but the publisher wouldn’t have it. Anyway, the search for the Higgs Boson is a primary reason this machine was built. The Higgs is the theoretical construct that gives rise to the field that gives particles their individual masses. Think of a field the same way you think of temperature in a room; there is a value associated with any point you can pick. As the particles pass through this proposed field, they encounter resistance. Visualize the difference in how a marble passes through a glass of water as opposed to a glass of honey. It is this proposed Higgs Field that theoretically gives the particles all their different masses; some pass through water, and others take the honey route. The big problem is that we have no idea if this field exists. And if it exists, we have no idea what it is. As always, there is plenty of speculation.
Speaking of things that may or may not exist, let’s move on to Dark Matter and Dark Energy. Would it surprise you to know that stuff comprised of atoms, including you and me, make up only about 5% of the universe? We have no idea what the rest of the stuff is, but we call it Dark Matter and Dark Energy. We know Dark Matter is there because of the gravitational fields it creates, but it does not interact with light, so we are having a hard time figuring out its true nature. We know Dark Energy is there because the universe is still expanding from the Big Bang. It really should have slowed down by now, but it hasn’t; in fact, the acceleration is increasing. That strange situation is due to Dark Energy. Hopefully, the LHC will give us a hand here, too.
*****
One day Buford Lister decided that being a point on a number line wasn’t very interesting. He was having the type of existential crisis that only a point on a number line could have. He gathered up many of the other points and said, “This is ridiculous, let’s take the ends of our number line and connect them to make what I call a circle! Can you all even begin to imagine how that will change our lives? Let your imaginations run wild and join me. I say we do it. Let the word ring out to all the points on the number line. I swear we will form a circle!”
After lots of time and a tremendous amount of work, the points were able to take the ends of the number line and connect them. They now had their circle. Celebrations were planned even though the points felt a little ambivalent about the festivities. Even Buford Lister admitted that he thought they would get something more out of all their work. He was heard to tell Keira, “I surely thought I would feel different living on a circle instead of on a line, but I feel the same.” Keira took a deep breath as she thought about the best way to break it to Buford Lister that a circle is also a one-dimensional object. “Sweetheart,” she said, “a circle is the same as a straight number line. You still need only one piece of information to determine the position of any point. I’ll prove it to you, meet me at my place later tonight. I now live at 36.84 degrees.” The only thing that could be heard (and you had to listen really close) was a subtle “oh crap” coming out of the tiny mouth of the little point that was Buford Lister.
*****
There is one other intriguing area that the good people at the LHC are exploring, and that is the possible existence of extra dimensions. Wow, how cool is that? Go ahead and try to picture what a sixth or seventh spatial dimension might be. All I can say is good luck. Our puny three-dimensional brains have little chance of imagining what those extra dimensions might be like.
As a master of the obvious, I can confidently say that we live in a world with three spatial dimensions. We can go up and down, back and forth, and side to side. We can always call time the fourth dimension, which creates no problem for me. The big issue is that contemporary theoretical physics (think Superstring Theory) suggests that there are many more dimensions other than the ones we can see. I want you to think about where those extra dimensions might be. Can you picture them? The three I mentioned account for all of our freedom of movement, so where do we go from there? I am open to suggestions, any and all.
There is a neat, short little book called Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions that can give us all some insight into our dimension dilemma. It was written in 1884 by Edwin Abbott. The characters in the book live in only two dimensions. You can imagine what happens when a three-dimensional sphere visits. Think about what the geometric shapes living in two dimensions would see. Perhaps you have concluded that they would see a line as the sphere started to pass through their universe. The line would get longer and longer until it started to shrink. That might very well be what they would see. I am mentioning this because it gives some sort of point of reference for us to begin a discussion of extra dimensions. Surely, it is not going to help very much, but it is better than nothing. At least it starts us thinking about dimensions in a bit of a different way.
I think about these dimensions a lot. Historically, there are a couple of ways I rely on to try to amuse myself. Actually, there are lots of ways, but I want to talk about two specific examples here. One thing I do is I try to think about all the stuff that happened before I was born. I have to admit that I have come up with nothing. I have not been able to extract a single memory. It has been 13.7 billion years from the Big Bang until now. That is an awfully long time, and I am a bit disappointed I have no recollection of any of it. The really bad news is that the universe seemed to do just fine without me. If I were to give that some thought I might just get a little depressed.
The other thing I do is I try to imagine what all these other dimensions might be like. I have made a little progress in this area, no really, I have. I know what a four-dimensional cube looks like. All kidding aside, I really do! Head on over to Google and check out tesseracts. You can also find them under hypercubes; they go by both names. They might be the coolest thing I have ever seen. There are strict mathematical rules that make the tesseract the proper analog to the cube just as the cube is related to the lesser dimensional square. I have gone through the math, and it all makes perfect sense.
Crucifixion (Corpus Hypercubus), a 1954 painting by Salvador Dalí, shows the crucified Jesus hanging from an unfolded tesseract, technically called a net. It is fascinating; it clearly takes us to a different place if we begin thinking about the possibilities presented by more than the three dimensions we are used to. The best way I have found to think about it is that a tesseract is a four-dimensional representation in three-dimensional space just as a cube drawn on a sheet of paper is a three-dimensional object represented in two-dimensional space.
Why do physicists think that there might be more than the three dimensions of space and the one dimension of time that we are so familiar with? One big reason is gravity. Gravity is exceptionally weak, much weaker than all the other fundamental forces of nature. Try this, take a small magnet, and see how easily you can lift a paper clip even though the gravitational force of the entire earth is working on keeping that tiny object on the tabletop. That is truly extraordinary. It is simply a contest of strength; the earth versus one small magnet, and it is no contest, the magnet wins every time.
It is the weakness of gravity that gives rise to the possibility of extra dimensions in our universe. The string theorists claim we have 10 or 11 of them, not just the three we live in. I am the first person to admit that is mind-bending, but the mathematics doesn’t mind those extra dimensions at all. The equations just keep plugging away.
You know those mini black holes I mentioned earlier. Well, guess what? If we happen to create them, then that is going to suggest that these extra dimensions might actually exist. Gravity is so very weak in our world, and one theory suggests this is so because it exists in all those other dimensions, and just a little bit leaks through to our normal three-dimensional world. For mini black holes to be created, it would take some of that extra-dimensional gravity; there is simply not enough gravity in our three-dimensional world to allow that to happen. The gravity from the extra dimensions could create mini black holes. If we create them, then that is a clue that maybe those extra dimensions exist on something other than a physicist’s notepad.
So, who is rooting hardest for mini black holes to show up at the LHC? Probably no one more than the famous physicist Stephen Hawking, the scientist that Homer Simpson refers to as “that wheelchair guy.” Did you realize that Hawking has not been awarded a Nobel Prize? His best chance at an elusive Nobel is the creation of mini black holes at the LHC. It is that confirmation (for various technical reasons) that will get him the prize, that is, if he lives long enough for the committee to award it to him.
*****
Life was moving along nicely for the people of the circle. Points were living full lives and, for the most part, enjoying themselves. That is until Buford Lister started creating another stink. He was big enough to admit that he had erred by suggesting that the other points take the line and form it into a circle. “I made a mistake; I should have thought more about my proposal. If I would have listened to Keira, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I sincerely apologize to everyone. Now that I am older and wiser, I would like to suggest that we undo our circle and place a 90-degree bend in the middle of our line. Keira and I have talked it over, and we are sure this will create another dimension for all of us to enjoy. We both have no idea what it would look like or feel like, but I am convinced it is the right thing to do. I know most of us are content living out our lives as we have, but I know there is so much more out there for us.”
There were lively public debates and serious private conferences. You can only imagine what went on there. Finally, the spirit of exploration won out, the circle was dismantled, and a ninety-degree bend was placed in the number line. No one could have possibly imagined what was to happen next. Yes, a plane was created, and every point got to live in two- dimensional space. An X and a Y coordinate were now required to find another point. For many years the points lived in ecstasy. Buford Lister and Keira were hailed as heroes; schools were named after them, and Keira was asked to assume the Presidency of Plane Land. She refused the honor; she enjoyed her life with Buford Lister too much to give it up and move into the arena of politics. They settled into a wonderful life at X=5, Y=4, a location considered by many to be prime real estate. She and Buford Lister were deliriously happy…for a time.
*****
I know a young man named Phil. There are a couple of reasons why I include him in this essay. He asked me an extremely interesting question not long ago, and my reaction conjured up all sorts of thoughts and emotions. Also, his innocent query inspired me to tell him a story I have never told anyone before. Now I will tell it to all of you.
Phil was on Christmas break from school when I ran into him at a local restaurant. Now that he is away at college, he has a better appreciation for what getting an education is all about. He knows how much time I spent in school, so he had lots to talk to me about.
He causally asked me “So, what are you still doing here?” His question really was, “So, what the hell happened? Weren’t you meant for something bigger and better than what you are doing? Why are you here, in this depressing, dying town? ” That is what he was really asking. I took a long, deep breath before I answered him because he is one of the few people I have ever known who have the insight (and guts) necessary to ask me such a question.
He has been reading my essays, so I decided to answer his question in a way I knew he would understand. I simply told him that I never met my “Athena” when I was younger. I never met the woman I needed to meet. I was never inspired; I was never introduced to the woman who would help me transcend the mundane day to day existence that we all struggle against. I wanted to tell him that the single most difficult thing any person can do in this world is to live an inspired life when they have no inspiration. I decided he didn’t need to hear that so I just told him that the most important thing for him was the only thing I couldn’t help him with. I can easily help him refine his intuition and nudge and poke him toward a path that will make him examine his own life through a more critical lens, but I am at a total loss when it comes to helping him find his own “Athena,” his own source of inspiration. It was then that I told him the story I am going to tell you.
When I was very young, a hell of a lot younger than I am now, I was having a conversation with one of my professors. I can’t remember exactly how or why, but the conversation made its way around to Nobel Prizes. He was talking about how an anthropologist could possibly win one, and he said it would have to be in the biological sub-discipline because that could potentially get a person one in medicine. I mentioned that Jean-Paul Sartre was the only person to turn one down. He didn’t know this, and he got extremely agitated. He couldn’t understand why anyone would do that. I defended Sartre (as if he needed my help) because I thought he had good reasons for doing what he did. It was then that the professor sat me down and gave me a long talk on why I was never to do that, on why I was never to turn down such an honor.
My point here is that there were people who expected big things out of me. I certainly include myself in that category. So, what happened? That is so easy. Like I said before, I never found the wind beneath my wings. I had forgotten entirely, but I now remember when I was about 20, another professor told me that what I needed more than anything was the love of a “good woman.”
Author’s Note: When you get a degree from Harvard University, you are expected to go out into the “real world” and make a difference. In my experience, almost everyone I met while I was there had plans to make a major contribution to humanity. They felt it was a responsibility, a sort of cosmic obligation. I also feel that way. I write a lot under various pen names, and that is where my contribution is being made. There is a novel that I am struggling to finish, that novel, if I am correct, will represent my significant gift to humanity. My guess is everyone will have to wait until I am long gone to know the details. I prefer to run silent and deep.
*****
One day, out of nowhere, a man showed up at Keira and Buford’s house. He had with him a notebook full of equations and drawings. “Hello, my name is Trey, may I come in?” Greetings were made all around, and then it happened, Buford and Keira were introduced to an idea so radical that they remained speechless for quite some time.
In Trey’s notebook, a notebook consisting only of one long, flat page, they saw the theory, the convincing possibility that there might be more than two dimensions. They looked at a cube, an actual cube drawn on the flat surface that was Trey’s notebook. “You know, I am convinced that there is something more than a back and forth and a side to side,” said Trey. “The math works; it makes perfect sense. More than that, look at my drawing. I call it a “square connected to a square.” I know it is real; I just know that these things really do exist.” Buford Lister, temporarily stunned, was finally, after some time, able to say something. He looked at Keira and then said, “If it is true, how are we supposed to experience it? I don’t see any way that we can go any other direction other than the X and Y that we move in now. What exactly is this supposed to be? Even if Trey is correct, I don’t see how it matters. Keira, do you agree? “ Keira said nothing; she was in a deep think; a very, very deep think.
*****
I wrote in a previous essay that I was thinking of getting on with my study of Mozart. Well, I have been doing just that. I have ordered a bunch of video courses, bought a couple of books, and downloaded a cache of music. The first video course I watched, Great Masters: Mozart – His Life and Music from The Teaching Company, is stellar. Taught by Robert Greenberg, the course is very, very good. It was the perfect place to start.
Mozart was clearly a genius, but like most everyone else, he had his unproductive periods. This, coupled with the fact that he died so young, makes one yearn for all the unwritten music he left behind. Greenberg mentioned an extraordinarily prolific period late in Mozart’s life that appeared to come out of the ether. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and then (seemingly out of nowhere) an unexpected explosion. What do you think the question was that Greenberg rhetorically posed to the class? His dramatic pause was followed by something like this, “So, who, besides his wife, was he running around with?”
The implication is clear; inspiration requires well, inspiration, and where is the best place to find it? I think we all know the answer to that question. If Mozart was suddenly creating the best work of his life, the inspiration had to come from somewhere, and the only logical place for that, for him at least, was from a woman. I found myself laughing while I was watching that lecture. So I guess it is not a big secret then. People need inspiration, and there is one basic way to find it.
I offer up the following as an explanation for how and why these essays came to be. Clearly, I have experienced an explosion of creativity since I met Athena. The evidence is to be found on each of these pages, pages that surely never would have existed if I hadn’t decided to see that fateful rock show last summer. That is truly astounding. If I had met her years ago and if things were very different, I can only imagine what might have happened. Hell, I imagine what might happen now if she would only talk to me. It simply warps my mind. I have only seen her once, and here I am, almost ten months later, still finding all the inspiration in the world from her.
*****
Keira finally spoke. “He is right, Trey is right.” She was excited. “Buford, my dear, open your eyes. Open them! The third dimension is there; we just never looked for it. It is all around us. If I concentrate really hard, I get glimpses, tiny glimpses of it. I can feel it; it is there! I had spent so much time doing the math. It never occurred to me to draw it, to see it. I was approaching the problem the wrong way; I needed to be working visually, not mathematically. After seeing what Trey did on paper, I am getting little pulses of “up.” I can feel “up,” random, ethereal pulses of “up.” It is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.”
As month after month went by Buford Lister became more and more worried, he knew that Keira was going to risk harm to herself by trying to find this extra dimension. He had a bad feeling in his stomach as he gazed at her. He knew it was already too late to try to convince her that she should just relax and think about all the bad things that might happen if she set out on an exploration of a mysterious dimension that might not even exist. And, even worse, what if it did exist and she was able to find it? There is no guarantee that it would be a warm, welcoming place. It might be dangerous; it might not be a good place for a point, especially a point that Buford Lister loved so much.
One day Buford Lister, still stunned and nervous, glanced at Keira’s notebook and saw lots and lots of math. At the very bottom of the jumbled mess, he saw this: a2 + b2 +c2 = d2. He took a long pause. His intuition, his higher self, told him, “She is a genius; you are the luckiest point alive.” He looked at the equation for a long, long time.
“Buford Lister, my love, look up. Up was always there; it’s just that no one ever bothered to look. I know there is an “up,” I know it.” Buford Lister tried his best to look “up,” but he couldn’t do it. He strained and thought and concentrated like he never had before…and nothing. Keira finally lit up, “I have an idea.”
*****
I am still running, I just got back from a 75-minute run, and I feel great. My knees feel fine, and I am clearly back in shape. I am even throwing around the possibility of another marathon in the not too distant future.
I had my yearly check-up with my doctor a couple of weeks ago. He is also a runner, and he knows better than anyone that I really shouldn’t be able to run anymore. He is one of the doctors who, in the past, looked at the MRI’s of my knees and then shook his head and whistled. He asked me how the running was going, and I told him everything was fine, better than fine. I told him I wasn’t having any problems at all. He said that I need not question a miracle; I just need to keep running. That is exactly what he said, and that is precisely what I heard. I wanted to tell him my working theory on why my knees are bending again, but I just shut up and told him that I am not questioning my good fortune one bit. If I would have told him that a chick said “I’m Athena” and that my knees immediately stopped hurting, he might have done a bit of a double-take and given me a referral, a very specific referral to a highly specialized type of doctor.
I have included this story because he used the word miracle to describe the situation with my knees. I am not so sure I believe in miracles, but I do find it highly unusual that I was able to start running the day after I met Athena. There are many things I find highly unusual about all this, and that is what I want to talk about next.
I have written about what I call my vibe voice. I really have no idea what it is, but I know people who have definite opinions on the matter. For reasons that are way too long and complicated to mention in this essay, I know many people who are very religious, highly spiritual, and even psychic. They call the vibe voice Spirit; there is no question in their minds that the voice I hear is the same one that comes to them when they pray or meditate. The psychics tell a very similar tale. They talk about Spirit Guides and Angels and a whole host of other conduits that allow them to communicate with the spirit world. I still haven’t quite figured out why such entities would want to bother with a guy like me, a totally agnostic dude trained in the sciences. Besides, my little vibe voice is more than a bit of a smart-ass. Remember the Avatar line from a previous essay? I was telling the little voice to shut the hell up because I was trying to talk to Athena. “I get it; I get it, Avatar, OK, sheesh!“ Who knows? As usual, I am at a complete loss.
I mention my vibe voice because I heard from it again. It was a month or so ago. It is not like I walk around hearing a little voice all day long, I can count on one hand the number of times in my life that this has happened. I am pausing a little because the story that follows is nearly one I did not live to tell.
*****
Keira convinced Buford Lister that all they needed to do was bend the plane just as they had with the number line. “If we bend the plane, we will create another dimension, we will make an “up,” and I bet you we will also make an “anti-up.” We will have a third dimension. All we need to do is tug and pull on the ends. I am sure it will work.”
It did work! By bending and pulling the points of Plane Land became the inhabitants of Square Connected to Square Land. It was a golden era. Now, to find any other point required three pieces of information; an X, Y, and a Z coordinate. Simply astonishing. Buford Lister looked at Keira and wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a brilliant partner. He was blissful. The only thing he could think to say was, “Keira, you amaze me. You are the most beautiful…” He stopped because he knew she wasn’t listening to him; she was distracted. She was in another deep think.
*****
I have always felt that the really important days are the ones that start like any other. They are not wedding or graduation days; they are just normal days that quickly turn abnormal. You are about to hear about such a day.
It was very cold and snowy; the weather was not inviting at all. It wasn’t snowing a lot, but it was snowing enough. I was out in the woods trying to find an old fence line. Any normal person would walk along the path of least resistance, especially in heavy woods, but I couldn’t do that. I had to walk along the property line because I needed to find the buried fence. I came to a swamp, and I stepped in. I was wearing hip boots because I knew that the swamp was there from a previous visit.
I was carrying a heavy bag of equipment on my left shoulder, and I was carrying a costly GPS unit with my right. The GPS was attached to a pole 6.5’ tall. I was using the pole to probe ahead while I was walking. I wanted to make sure that the swamp didn’t suddenly drop off to a depth that I might find inconvenient. At least, that was the plan.
One second I was walking through the swamp, and the next thing I knew, I was underwater. If I can take a moment to give some unsolicited advice, I would not recommend that one go swimming in a swamp while it is cold enough to snow. The initial shock of the cold water took all my energy, but I had a bigger problem. My bag got hooked on something, and I couldn’t get to the surface. Talk about inconvenience; it was not one of my happier moments. I somehow managed to claw myself free, and I was able to get to the surface. That is when my problems started to mount.
I took the pole and pushed it down to try to steady myself. I was in deep water, and I didn’t need to go under again. I struggled for a bit until I was able to get one of my feet on to a sunken log. I used the log as a foothold to get myself over to another log that was sticking out of the water. I was hanging on to the second log while I was trying to figure out what I was going to do. I noticed a beaver lodge, and I was able to get over to it. I tried to climb on to the lodge, but I wasn’t able to. My hip boots were full of water, I was totally drenched, and all my energy was sapped. That is when things went from bad to worse.
I, of course, was freezing. That is until I wasn’t. I was rapidly losing feeling in my limbs, and the only thing I could think to do was to scream for help. I was so tired that I had trouble making the words come out. It didn’t matter because there was no one around to hear me.
I took the pole, and I started probing around me to see if I could figure out how to get out of the swamp, and on to the other side, it wasn’t that far, but it was far enough. I moved around in every possible direction, and the pole never hit bottom. I put the pole and my bag on the beaver lodge as I stood in chest-deep water and contemplated my dilemma. I had no idea what I was going to do.
I knew I was in deep, deep trouble. I could barely feel my limbs, and I wasn’t cold anymore. I figured I could stay at the lodge and let hypothermia slowly kill me, I could jump in the water and risk a heart attack from the shock, or I could simply drown. It really, really sucked. I knew there was a chance I was going to die.
I had heard people say that their life flashed before them when they had a near-death experience. That didn’t happen to me, but some damn interesting things did happen while I was leaning up against that lodge. I began to think about all the stuff I have half-finished, all the books and essays that are incomplete. I didn’t think about anything I had done. I thought about all the stuff I hadn’t done. And yeah, guess what?
I thought about what I was going to do if I got out of there. I thought about how damn stupid it was to be making a bucket list, no The Bucket List, when I had no idea if I was going to be around in a half-hour, or even in five minutes. And yeah, guess what?
I thought about how long I was going to float in the swamp until my body was discovered. I knew it was going to be a long time before someone thought it was unusual that I hadn’t called or checked in. I knew it would be days and days and days before my dad would ask my brother, “Have you talked to Ryan-Tyler?” It is not unusual at all for me not to go into the office; I usually work at home. In any event, there would be no one waiting for me that night, and that meant my lifeless body was going to have plenty of time to bloat. I wondered how much it would bloat. I wondered if they would find me floating face up or face down. And yeah, guess what?
We are getting close to the point in my story where I had to make a decision. I knew I didn’t have much time left, so I did the dumbest thing I could have done. I knew I had to leave the temporary safety of the lodge and swim if I wanted to get out of there. So, I took a deep breath, grabbed the heavy bag of equipment and the pole, and jumped in. You read that right; I did everything I possibly could to ensure that I would have the best chance of sinking. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. And yeah, guess what?
I got a little angry as I about to jump in. I was angry that there would be no one who would miss me that night; I was angry that my life might end in a smelly swamp, I had always imagined I would go out in a blaze of glory somehow involving numerous Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders; I was angry that I was angry. And yeah, guess what?
I was really disappointed about a lot of things as well. I was angry that I was thinking about a woman I had met only once. I was disappointed that I was never going to get to know her. I found it absurd that my thoughts were all about her. That is when the little vibe voice decided to intervene. It said if I wanted to get out of that swamp, I had to promise not to give up on her; I had to promise not to give up on Athena. Then it told me something else; it offered up a brief message that I find extraordinary. The funny thing is I knew immediately what the vibe voice meant. It said, “You have to make her say no.”
[I am exhausted…I am losing feeling in my limbs…I can’t feel my left leg… I am in deep, deep trouble…I don’t want to die like this…not like this, not like this…so much to do…so much to finish…I don’t want to drown here and now…not today.]
I needed to use all my energy to keep myself afloat, I was in dire straits, and the best that my universal vibe voice could come up with is “You have to make her say no.” With that in mind, I pushed myself away from the lodge.
[You can make it…you can make it…push the pole down as hard as you can…find the bottom…push, push, push…you can make it…you can make it…just a little further…you can make it…come on…you can make it…you can make it…fight, fight, fight…not today…not today…you can make it….reach…lunge…deep breath…damn it all…don’t give up…real deep breath…you have to goddamn fight if you want to go home.]
“Make her say no.” Divinely inspired words of encouragement, the words I need to paint on the walls of my office. “Make her say no.” The motivation for finding the strength to live another day. “Make her say no.” Hope and optimism spring and dance, just like cosmically inspired words on a typed page. “Make her say no.”
I made it to the other side of the swamp and somehow found the energy to climb on to dry land. That was not an easy thing to do. I immediately started walking in the wrong direction, but luckily I caught myself and turned around. I still wasn’t home, but the worst was over. I was a half-mile or so from my Honda, and the terrain was very rough. Also, I had to cross the stupid swamp again to get back. I found an easy place to cross and made my way back. I was really worried about frostbite, so I stripped naked and covered myself with a county road map. Somehow I thought wearing a map was better than standing outside in wet clothes. Eventually, it dawned on me that I might be warmer in the car. I turned the ignition key, and I blasted the heat as I waited for my brother to bring me some dry clothes.
Ironically, all I had in my Honda was an extra pair of socks. I remember bringing them with me just in case I got my feet wet. I am, if nothing else, a man with a plan.
*****
Keira worked very hard to get her vision down on paper. Equation after equation, dead-end after frustrating dead end. She knew that there had to be more than the three dimensions her senses showed her. So many problems, though, things simply were not working out.
In addition to everything else, Keira was having a difficult time adjusting to her new life. She was excited, yet scared, by the new dimensions and all the attention it brought her. She even, at very dark moments, wished she had never met Buford Lister. Her life would have been so much simpler, so much better, she thought, if there were no extra dimensions. All those damn things have done is complicate other things, she thought.
Buford Lister studied Keira’s mathematical arguments and also became convinced that there must be more dimensions than what they could see. “Just because we can’t see something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist” became the unofficial battle cry of the Square Connected to Square Science Institute.
*****
I called Boss and Olive, and we went out to eat, Mobe was bowling, so he missed out on a free dinner. I told my tale, and we all had a few beers. I was really happy to let them know what happened. I was happy to be able to tell anyone anything.
I walked home from the restaurant, and things were as normal as can be, at least for a bit. Then something remarkable started to happen to me, something that I have no explanation for, something that impacts my life every day.
Perhaps it is not such a surprise that I was thinking of Athena when I was in such a bad way. She is the first human being I have ever met who I feel is on the same wavelength as me. When I met her, I certainly wasn’t looking for someone like that; in fact, there is nothing that could have happened that would have surprised me more. I guess, deep down, I knew it was possible to meet such a person, but I never thought it was possible for me. Now that I give it some thought, I bet such meetings are the foundation of nearly every great story ever told. Two people decide they are on the same wavelength, and then everyone else just stands back and watches them go. So, what happens if only one person feels it? Hmmm, I have no idea.
You know those warm fuzzy feelings that people get, especially when they meet someone new and they know something special is happening? For reasons I can not comprehend, I am now getting something similar to those feelings on a constant basis. The thing is, these warm feelings in the chest and butterflies in the stomach are not of an ordinary variety. The warmth is of blast furnace quality, and the butterflies were, apparently, weaned on steroids.
I have felt these pulses on a consistent basis every single day since the swamp incident. Yeah, there is some music that I listen to on my runs that intensifies the feelings, but they are there most of the time. Also, that smile, the same one I have had for ten months, is growing larger. It actually turns into a laugh now.
I am calling what is happening to me Random Pulses of Bliss. Isn’t that the most remarkable thing you have ever heard? I don’t understand it, and I don’t pretend to have any explanation. I’ll just take my doctor’s advice and not question it. Magically repaired knees and Random Pluses of Bliss; who knows, maybe they are an expression of the same phenomenon, maybe they originate from the same damn place. I have no idea; I will just go with it. Even if I wanted things to change, I have no idea how I might go about doing that.
One guess is that these pulses are a little like gravity, weak in our universe but powerful in the dimensions that we can not see. Maybe that is also where the vibe voice comes from. Maybe dimension 7 or 8 is one of feeling, one of sensitivity and intuition. I really don’t know, but I doubt there is an experiment that we can build, whatever the cost, that will give us any answers at all. All I know is that my knees feel fine, and I have to come up with a playlist of my favorite music that will get me through 26.2 miles. I can only begin to imagine how many of Athena’s songs will be on there.
As I sit here typing the pulses just keep coming. It really is extraordinary. I think the world might be a very different place if everyone would get these once in a while. Perspectives and priorities might change, just a little, in the people hit with pulses like these. It is nice to dream, isn’t it?
I just glanced out the window and noticed that the sun finally decided to make an appearance today. I am going to try to stop laughing long enough to lace up my running shoes.
*****
One day Buford Lister looked over and said, “Keira, why must these extra dimensions be one of space?” Keira gave this lots and lots of thought. She tried and tried to get the mathematics to work using only the dimensions they could see, but she couldn’t do it. Finally, in a last-ditch effort to try to understand what was going on, she let herself think of the extra dimensions as things like color, taste, and texture. Conceptually, it worked just fine. Mathematically, it was a very different story.
Keira decided to go for a run; she needed to clear her head. As she got dressed, she thought back to her days in Plane Land and how no one could go for a run then. Simply stated, there was no way to make the little rabbit hop around the great big tree. Well, the bunny might be able to do that, but eventually, she needs to poke her head up, and no way was she ever doing that. Consequently, there was no way to tie the laces of the running shoes; you can’t go up, over, and back under if those dimensions don’t exist. The laces just dangled, and anyone who tried to run tripped continuously.
Keira started slowly on the beautiful running path that wove its way around the Science Institute. She saw a figure in the distance. Huh, she thought, another runner. It was a bit unusual to see someone else on the path; it only happened occasionally. Nearly everyone at the institute was into rock climbing. They just couldn’t get enough of that newly discovered dimension known as “up.”
Keira ran up beside the other figure. “Hi, I’m Keira,” she said. It was nothing more than a simple snapshot of time, one that happened every day in Square Connected to Square Land. Runners, rock climbers, artists, musicians, bakers, writers, and cowboys all lived out their lives the best they could. Most days were like every other, but on rare occasions, the rules of physics, the equations of nature herself, were temporarily suspended for reasons unknown. The theologians and the philosophers put a great deal of thought into why this happened, but their explanations satisfied no one. As such, only the poets were consulted to explain what happened next. The figure quickly glanced over and said: “Hi, I’m Ryan-Tyler.”
*****
I am at the close of another essay, and I find that I have to end this one as well with a letter. Is this the last essay about Athena? Who knows, maybe it is, and maybe there are fifty more to come. Maybe I drop dead tomorrow, and maybe Athena and I are eating lunch together next week. I have no idea.
Hi Athena,
I don’t have much to say, I really just wanted to say hi. I do have a few more things I can add about my experience in the swamp, but those things are not for public consumption. If you ever want to know, just ask me.
If you decide that we can go to lunch one day I do have a small request. I know I am in no position to ask anything of you, but this is not that big a deal. If, when we are eating, you see me reach into a pocket and pull out a small piece of paper, don’t bother to ask what it is. If you see me take a pen and scratch off a line from the very top, you need not say a word. Please, just smile back at me when I look up at you.
Ryan-Tyler
