In a Nutshell

By Trevor Field

A soul wakes to find himself in a room and soon realizes when he finds a nutshell there must be
more than what he knows and understands. The new soul finds a way out of the room only to
discover it's the beginning of a journey which requires it to be born into the physical world.
First as a woman where life lessons are learned then as a man fighting his evil twin all in an
attempt to right the imbalance caused by the nutshell. We visit reincarnation, the after life,
Heaven and Hades. A novel packed with life lessons and spiritual metaphors offering to
challenge your way of thinking.

For more insight go to www.tjfieldauthor.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jun 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499005325

Trevor Field

In a Nutshell by Trevor Field. Events such as being taken from my mother at the age of six, seeing a murder of a housemate at eleven, placed in a boys home then back with my foster parents caused me to be a poor, shy and distant student. Yet it was because of these things I became interested in people, God and the nature of things, especially in the human components that made us do what we do. With the opportunity of nothing more than a standard education I left school when I was fifteen to do what most in those days did and followed my heart, a heart that said the only way to save yourself was to move forward, keep moving forward. Experimentation with life and drugs during the Hippy era, saw me try a number of careers including Sales, Nurses Aide, Minister training at a Theological College, Assistant Manager of major fast food restaurant, Fire Extinguisher servicemen and others to finally settle on spending ten years in MIT. It was a good and rewarding career until the responsibility and workload of a Network Administrator overloaded my sense of self and I broke. Depression is debilitating in all sorts of ways but if I was going to have any kind of trouble free future I had to find a way to beat it and reinvent myself somehow. Consciously and subconsciously I unsuccessfully searched answers by trying a few things until I realized I had quite a bit of life experience so why not have a go at writing. Unclear of my genre I started number of projects then I looked at my kids that weren’t kids anymore, they’re always your kids, right? I wondered if I managed to teach them all I knew, understood and believed, at least enough for them to have a better journey through life but I knew I hadn’t. When they were young they were too young to understand and I was too busy chasing a life and a career, and when they’d reached their teens I was in depression and unable to function let alone give instruction. Formulating and writing down my opinions on, and my understanding of, the human condition produced sixty pages. It was a lot to read for a point of view so in demonstration of all the things I believe and understand I decided to write a short story about a man and his stones. To my surprise the intended short story seemed to take on a life of its own and didn’t want to end. As I’d write one piece the next popped into my head then there was more and then more and then more so I kept on writing until the story found its own end. ‘In a Nutshell’ is a book of instruction, advice and opinions on how the human belief system in its entirety fits together. It not only covers such subjects on how to be a good manager, teacher or parent and what we can do about understanding ourselves as an individual but it also demonstrates our understanding of Karma, Reincarnation, the Will of God’s and others. All this is done through a story about the birth of a new soul born out of place and out of time and all the experiences and lessons it has to go through before it can restore the imbalance that started when he found the Nutshell.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Trevor Field.

ISBN:          Softcover          978-1-4990-0531-8

                   eBook                978-1-4990-0532-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/20/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

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www.Xlibris.com.au

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Contents

1.     The Birth of a new soul.

2.     Out of place out of time.

3.     Life after life.

4.     Round and round we go.

5.     Standing solid.

6.     Dreams that pass.

7.     All together now.

8.     Shells of Heaven.

9.     Beneath the ripples.

10.   To end a war.

11.   Mirror, mirror.

12.   With or without you.

13.   Catching the past.

14.   In the light of truth.

The Birth of a new soul.

He opened his eyes looking at the high plain white ceiling, thinking the refreshed feeling in his head was the best feeling he’s ever had. He stretched where he lay, pushing in all directions then sat up to see where he was and picked up one of the flat circular white stones covering the entire floor of the room. This is his room but there are no fixtures, furniture, windows or doors, no lights and no shadows, there’s no mirrors and nothing to sit on, sleep on, or to look at, only the smooth sandstone walls and thousands of almost identical flat white stones in various sized of unorganized piles. This is his life. There’s no one else and all he has is this large room and the stones. He doesn’t know how he got here nor has he ever thought about it. He doesn’t know of anything outside his room nor does he ever think of anything else except his desire for taking care of his stones.

He stood up. He’d fallen asleep while working yet he doesn’t remember falling asleep and when he woke he never knew what he experienced was sleep, he just was, is. He’s aware only of his work and nothing else concerns him. He looks at his white hands, his blue jeans, brown jacket with a blue scarf around his neck, the same clothes he always wore, yet he’s never dirty nor does he ever wash. He looks around the room, the only place he knows, large, built with enormous sandstone blocks leaving no doors or windows and a roof which is impossible to reach. He doesn’t know what a shadow is and no shadow does he cast nor does anything else as light is everywhere even between and under the stones.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, for time and even his name escapes him but he does remember he likes his work and doesn’t need or want anything else. He fondles the stone he holds and likes the feel of it, soft and gentle, smooth, then he pulled on his scarf remembering he’s got work to do. He put the stone back from where it came then to start his work for the day, from where he finished before he slept, he collected the right one.

He feels at one with the stone making a sound at it similar to the sound he makes at all the stones but minutely different—although he’s never spoke or been spoken to, he’s given all the stones a name. All he needs is faith in his work and the belief that if he does it well he’ll be rewarded—but of course he has no idea what that reward will be nor does he know the true purpose of his work, but it doesn’t really concern him.

As far back as he can remember everyday is the same, the stretch, the feeling of refreshment then remembering it’s his job to look after every individual stone, turning and moving them making sure that none is left alone and all have their time in the light. There’s nothing to distract him from his work and he doesn’t know if the room is above or below ground, but it doesn’t matter for all he cares about is doing his work all day until he falls asleep and when he wakes the next day all he wants to do is find the excitement and joy he gets from the doing.

Alone and faithfully he does this work for years and years until one day, not long after he wakes, he sees something small sitting on a stone, something he’s not seen before. It’s small enough to hold in the palm of his hand yet when he picks it up he hears something rattle inside. He doesn’t know what it is and he’s never heard anything rattling inside of something else before so through fright he drops it to pull on his scarf and think—without knowing or understanding what he’s found is a nutshell. Thinking it’s alive he cautiously pokes it before again picking it up to examine it. It isn’t flat like his stones but round like his hand when it’s closed. He shakes it hearing whatever it is inside; maybe it’s alive only when he moves it.

After turning it, shaking it until he was no longer afraid but curious he thought of using a stone to crack it open but he didn’t want to damage something he had to take care of so hoping he wouldn’t get into trouble, he pushed on the shell with his thumb gasping at how easy it broke. He looked to see what he’d done and saw the thin outer surface he pushed in was jammed against something small and round just like the outside.

There was something about this small thing inside the shell. He focussed all his attention on it, twisted his head back and forth wondering, thinking about him inside his room. Then he remembers his first lifetime concern was to care for his stones so he put it in his pocket to look at it later and goes back to his contentment of doing and caring. Yet in the back of his mind, at times he isn’t thinking, the idea of the nutshell begins to change him and although he’s always excited to pick up another stone and say its name, now and then something else draws him away.

Soon the wondering of the nutshell’s origin, purpose and how it was opening his mind to his own environment overpowered his desire to care for his stones until he found that now and then he was attracted to a particular place on one of the walls. When he was near he’d stop his work to, at first, gently and cautiously touch it then after awhile slide his hands over its almost perfectly smooth surface. It was odd, he’s sure there’s something on the other side and the more he thinks about it the more he’s convinced. He needs to find out, his eyes dart back and forth while feeling the wall then he places his ear against it but hears nothing except his hands sliding across its surface. There’s something there, he’s sure about it. How can he get through a wall so big and see?

He looked down at a few stones leaning against the wall then without thinking grabbed one and struck the wall. He shouted with excitement when a small chip fell from both the wall and the stone, now he knew it was possible to dig through so immediately, with the same stone, he went to strike again. He stopped imagining what might be on the other side… and what about his work… the digging would take him away from his purpose. Not knowing what to do, he dropped the stone and stood for awhile staring mindlessly at the stones. He sighed, slowly got out the nutshell, looked at it and wondered if all this was just a fantasy or maybe some kind of test. He rolled the nutshell around in his hands, feeling its bumps and crevices, its uniqueness.

It didn’t really matter what he thought, he couldn’t ignore the desire to find out what was on the other side of the wall, outside his room, outside his nutshell. For the first time the memory of his room and the desire for his work was no longer enough, he wanted, needed more. Now he’s inspired to follow a new path. He searched and retrieved the stone he dropped and again he tried to strike the wall yet again he stopped. What if those who placed him here find out he’s neglecting his duties and attempting to break a hole in the wall; if they don’t already know. He thought of how they might display their displeasure, he felt fear, maybe there’s no reward and if there’s something bad on the other side he might let it into his room. He stood down through fear and self doubt. He felt ashamed and selfish for wanting to try, wanting to damage his stones so he apologised to the one he chipped and placed it above the others, in a position of constant light.

For years he ignored the urge to dig and see but still, everytime he passed that place on the wall he looked for the chip and checked the stone, yet each time longer and longer he would spend until eventually, after pulling on his scarf a few too many times, he couldn’t take it anymore and knew he had to make a decision. He realised for damaging the stones in his care he may be held accountable but for his own sanity he needed to dig.

He picked up the same stone he stuck the wall with the first time and again thought about what he was about to do. If he uses the same stone as the first time he’ll destroy the stone and its essence, so if he’s to break through the wall without too much damage he’ll have to use each stone only once and then all the stones will bear a small scar of their experience. Although he’ll damage the stones it was as if he was giving them a purpose to their existence instead of only being turned now and then to face the light.

He spent a few minutes walking to the other end of the room. He’ll start with the stones he hasn’t moved for awhile. He’ll collect stones underneath other stones that haven’t been in the light for awhile and throw them into battle. He’ll give them, a kind of divine mission, and when it’s over they’ll go back to their shadows of contentment.

He returned to the chip in the wall with his first lot of stones and plonked them on the floor. He looked at the chip trying again to imagine what’s on the other side then looking at the first pile of stones, pulled on his scarf, took a deep breath and bent for the first one. He said its name like he always did and held it between his hands and apologised yet at the same time noticed that there was something different about this particular stone. It’s perfect, without a blemish of any kind and perfectly smooth so he hangs onto it, feeling it, sensing it for longer than he does for most stones and wonders why he only noticed it now.

Suddenly he jolts as a memory flashes through his mind. He remembers now, when he first arrived there was someone else, the only other person he’s ever seen. He remembers watching the man about to leave from the other end of the room when he stopped and returned with this very stone he held. He remembers how the man offered it to him and asked him to take particularly good care of it. It was strange, this stone was the only one without a mark yet he couldn’t remember where the other person went.

Now he knew it was possible to leave and no longer wanted to be kept within boundaries, he wanted to be free so it was time to get to work on his new path. He made a space on the floor for a new pile then he again picked up the first one, the perfect one, apologised to it then struck the wall right on the first chip he’d made so many years ago. After striking the stone against the wall he apologised again then gently placed it in the space on the floor then reached for the second and again struck the wall and again until all the stones from the first pile were used. He gathered up and carried the used stones for a few minutes to their resting place, collected his next pile and plonked them down ready to do it all again. Now he couldn’t think of anything else and didn’t care how long it was going to take. What else was he going to do?

After awhile instead of apologising to each individual stone he apologised to them as a group and went to work striking the wall once with each stone and throwing them on the used pile then he did it all again. Removing the used pile, collecting new ones, around and around he went until he fell asleep, and when he woke feeling refreshed and full like always, he didn’t know he’d been asleep and started from where he stopped.

Soon the hole was no longer small but big enough for him to crawl into but still no sight of the other side. He started to think that maybe he was wasting his time and maybe there was no other side, then again he’s come this far and as long as he’s doing his work of turning and moving the stones, he might as well keep on going.

Although he wasn’t aware of time, months went by and eventually the day came when he’d collected his last pile. He took them into the hole and plonked them down at the end wondering if this would work. What if the last pile doesn’t break through and he has to put all the stones under his care through it all again. He climbed out to sit against the wall next to the hole holding his head in his hands. What was he going to do? If this didn’t work and he’d have to do it all again, he might have to keep doing it forever and he might end up loosing his freedom instead of gaining it but then he stood remembering the nutshell and got it out.

He stood motionless staring at it and the nut stuck inside and thought and thought about himself and his room. This was a path he created for himself and now the only thing he knew was this and caring for his stones so whether he liked it or not he had to keep on moving forward, no turning back. So he decided that if it didn’t work he’d dig and dig until all the stones were used and then he’ll do it all over again on another wall, on the other side of the room.

He climbed back in the hole to the last pile of stones with a new determination in his crawl. He struck the wall with each stone until the final stone then he thought what if the last strike opens a hole; there’ll be no time to take the last of the used stones to their resting place so he collected and removed them. Then he returned to pick up the last stone and looked at the spot where he was to strike. This stone was even more damaged than the rest so he made a special apology knowing he was about to hit the wall as hard as he could then one way or the other, he’d know the truth and it’d be over, at least for now.

He held the stone flat in the palm of his hand and struck the wall with all the strength he could muster but instead of opening the wall, the stone crumbled into two pieces. That was it, he was annoyed. He’d damaged all the stones under his care and for what, nothing but a large hole in the wall. He turned away from the end of the hole sure he’d have to somehow pay for it when suddenly, the place where he’d struck the wall, fell away leaving light and a hole big enough to crawl through.

Not sure what was waiting for him he pulled on his scarf before cautiously peeping through the hole. It was a room just like his room with stones just like his stones, thousands of them. Maybe he was meant to break through this wall, in this particular spot, because he was meant to take care of these stones as well as his own.

He climbed through and stood to brush himself down then saw something out the corner of his eye. Quickly he looked and saw another man who must’ve heard the digging, standing next to hole, staring at him. Perceiving his presence as a threat he lifted his hands, closed his eyes and coward away but nothing happened. He opened one of his eyes to peep and saw the man also cringing and peeping back through one eye. Together they opened their eyes while lowering their arms and both examined their new friend. He looked exactly the same and wore the same clothes, except his nose was slightly different and he had dark skin hair and eyes. Although the first thing he wanted to do was say ‘hello’, he’d only made noises calling his stones a name so he wasn’t sure if he’d be understood. He thought of what he’d like to say and made a sound, and to his surprise the man understood and replied with similar sounds he too could understand. Is this your room?

Please don’t hurt my stones said the other man. It’s my job to look after them.

I’m not here to harm you or your stones he replied. I only wish to know what you know and then I’ll go back to where I came from.

The man sighed relief then walked away. Come, sit but be careful where you tread.

The room was full of groups of five stones arranged in single piles, one on top of the other and each pile touching the one next to it so that the whole floor was flat with no piles. You arrange your stones differently than I do.

What do you mean? asked the man.

He pointed at the hole, Would you like to come and see?

The other man’s faced crumbled with worry Oh no, I couldn’t do that… I have to stay here and take care of my stones. He sat cross legged on the flat stones motioning for him to follow.

It’s ok he said as he sat to face him. I’m not here to force you to do anything… How long have you been here?

I don’t know said the man looking puzzled at the question.

He looked down thinking of his own room, I don’t know either… Can you remember when you got here?

No. All I remember is being here and nothing else except that I must take care of my stones… as you can see I’m good at it and I have lots of time to make sure I don’t miss any.

He thought how his own work of caring for his stones wasn’t as easy. It must be something to do with his new friend’s five by five neat piles that made the difference. What do you do with your spare time?

The man gave a confused twist of his head. I don’t have spare time. When I’m not moving or turning my stones I try to think of a better way I can do it.

After all this time he asked, have you ever thought of another way of doing it?

No, said the man.

He looked around at the flat floor made from the tops of piles of flat stones, perfectly flat, unlike his own room with odd piles. He thought how the piles seemed to add character to his room where this room was kind of boring. Do you remember ever seeing someone else?

The other man smiled with a kind of naivety, Is this a trick question because you’re the only other one I’ve seen.

Which stone, of all your stones, is the most perfect?

Oh said the other man jumping up in excitement then pointing at him, wait there. He ran way down to the other end of his room, collected a stone, and ran back still excited. Here it is. Then he said something else.

What did you say?

Oh said the man, I make a sound for all my stones.

Yes he smiled, so do I. He picked up another stone. What do you call this one?

The man quickly came over and grabbed it from his hand, be careful, looked at it and said its name.

What’s your name?

I don’t know said the man, I gave all my stones a name but no one has been here to give me one.

He pulled on his scarf. Then I’ll give you name. He saw his dark eyes get brighter. I’ll call you… Ka.

The man stood taller, straighter I like that, Ka… Do you have a name?

No… will you give me one?

Ka smiled and nodded. Yes… I will call you… Ab.

Thankyou Ka he said smiling.

Thankyou Ab.

Well Ka, do you remember how you got your favourite stone. Did someone give it to you?

Ka screwed his face, Of course not… It was with me when I arrived. I don’t know but I think it’s mine. It’s my favourite stone.

If it’s your favourite stone then why don’t you keep it with you all the time?

Because, Ka said holding the stone close to his chest. I have to take care of all of the stone not only this one.

Haven’t you ever wondered what was on the other side of these walls?

No said Ka, but now I know you’re on the other side all I need is my stones to take care of. I don’t need anything else and when you go, I’ll go back to them.

Ab understood that he wasn’t the only one stuck in a room, goodness knows how many others there are, but he was pleased he dug the hole and discovered something new. He stood and nodded, thankyou Ka but I have to get back to my room and my stones. He walked towards the hole. Would you like to come and see my room and how I look after my stones?

Ka walked with him. No, I must stay here and take care of my own.

He smiled at Ka offering his hand, Well anytime… you’re quite welcomed to come through. He gave a final nod, climbed into his hole and through to his stones and room pleased and smiling at his the success of his adventure. He stood on his stones brushing himself when he turned to an unusual sound and saw the hole he’d spent so long digging had completely disappeared. He checked the wall, it was smooth just like before and it looked as though it had never been damaged. Even the very first chip he made all those years ago was gone. Was he allowed to go to all this trouble just for this brief encounter only to learn nothing except of Ka’s existence? Was it all some sought of elaborate sinister game his master or masters were playing?

He didn’t know what to make of his experience so for awhile settled back into the old routine of contentment and taking care of his stones yet he’d stop now and then to wonder if he should’ve spent more time with Ka to learn and understand more about their differences, although they wore the same clothes and took care of their own stones in a room that was the same they were different. He thought of Ka’s facial expressions, the colour of his skin, hair and eyes and deduced if Ka organised his stones and room differently it meant the way he thought must also be different therefore they’re similar yet they’re different, different enough for him to wonder if he should try again, only somewhere else on another wall.

Without another thought he stopped doing what he was doing, went to closest wall and began another search. He liked the way his hands glided over the smooth surface and if he put his ear against the wall he could hear them. He moved to the next spot and then to the next and kept going until he fell asleep and woke the next day to start from where he stopped. He searched and listened in hope of a sign, something to tell him to start digging but it was always the same, all he heard was his hands.

He didn’t know what to do and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t feel or sense something so he would know where to dig. He gave up. He plonked himself down onto a small pile of stones and began to mope and feel sorry for himself. He was at his wits end glaring, focussing on the stones when something out the corner of his eye caught his attention. He spun his head to see what it was but it was gone, so he looked away and again, out the corner of his eye, he saw it. He slowly turned his head not to loose sight of it but even then it was hard to see so he squinted then he saw, in a nearby corner of the room where he’d spent most of his time, small particles were radiating from a hundred or so stones and in the middle of them particles of brown, blues, purple, pinks and green swirled around each other forming a thin mist. He hoped that it wasn’t something he’d let in from the other room.

He twisted his head with curiosity and confusion then he decided he was frightened and that he should stay away from it. He thought about it more and more, maybe his masters were coming to see what he was doing then something else occurred to him. His experiences through caring for his own stones, contact with Ka, trying to find a way out and now seeing this thing has made him think differently. If he was going to find a way out then that’s what he’ll have to do, think differently.

He pondered on how he could find out where to dig by thinking differently, quite often throwing his hands up in frustration. Think differently. Think differently. Slowly he came to a conclusion, if he had an idea in one hand and no idea in the other then the difference between the two hands is the idea so really it doesn’t matter what the idea is, to start with all he needs is a difference. He only has to search the wall for a difference between one spot and another and dig there.

He searched the other walls trying to sense the difference between one spot and another until he felt he’d found it then once again he collected piles of stones to strike them only once minimising the scaring and when he was at the end of the hole and time for that last strike he used a piece of the same last stone, the one already broken. He apologised once again then with all his strength struck the wall to watch and wait for that last piece to crumble but this time, there was nothing.

After a long concentrated glare in anticipation he sighed and turned in disappointment to climb out of the hole. It was just then he heard a quiet noise like dust falling followed by a sudden loud cracking noise and the end of the hole fell away. The hole was much bigger than his first one so if he wanted to, he could step right into the other room but he was afraid for he could see something he’d never seen before, darkness.

He could see the room was much like his but the only light was the light streaming through the whole he dug casting his shadow onto stones just like his stones. He was afraid of this difference but he’d come this far and wasn’t going to turn back now so he stepped into the strange room and onto the stones. Here too there are thousands of them but there didn’t seem to be any kind of logic to the way they were organised. He hung onto his scarf as he walked cautiously across the stones towards the centre of the room getting darker with each step. He thought of the safety of his stones and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by letting something evil out of this room and into his but if he climbed back through the hole it might close like the last time and he’ll never find out.

He thought if he was to call out maybe whatever is in here might overpower him but he had to do it. Pushing his nerves a little further he called. Hello. It echoed back at him through the darkness followed by a shuffling sound of stones being moved around. He knew someone or something’s was there and wished for a little more light so he could see.

He twisted his head to a sound and for some reason there was more light enabling him to see that most of the stones were gathered in a large pile in the centre of the room. He began to walk around the pile and called again, and again he heard the echo and the movement of stones. Odd, the sound seemed to come from beneath the stones. Hello! I know you’re there, I can hear you. He climbed the pile of stones and found that there was a small crater in the centre of the hill of stones and in the crater was a wide-eyed and very afraid looking man also dressed in the same clothes but different colour skin.

The man cowered trying to shrink himself even further. Leave me alone!

He climbed down into the centre of stones and sat next to the man. It’s alright! I’m not here to harm you or your stones but aren’t you wondering where I’ve come from?

No! snapped the man. Just go back and leave me alone.

I will, just as soon as I find out about you.

Why? asked the man. Why do you want to know about me?

I don’t know Ab said picking up one of the stones. It felt grimy and grungy, as if it had been neglected. Does this stone have a name?

The man made a sound then another one and another one. I’ve forgotten.

My name is Ab what’s yours?

I don’t have a name and I don’t want one.

I will call you… Phar… Don’t you want to know about me, about the room I come from and why we’re different?

Phar was quiet and for some reason the room was brighter. Who are you and why are you here?

I’m from the next room where there’s a lot more light than here. Why is it so dark in here?

I like it this way said Phar. I makes me feel safe.

So it’s dark in here because you want it to be said Ab thinking that maybe the amount of light in the rooms was according to the carers wishes so when he came into this room and wished for more light, it was granted. He stood up to try something, to shout Light! More light! and smiled at the confirmation for suddenly he saw just as well as he could see in his own room. He looked beyond the edge of the crater, the place was a mess and so was the man. How do you take care of your stones? Why do you do it this way? He sat waiting for answers.

No light! shouted Phar causing darkness. I don’t look after the stones they look after me. I use them to build a place to hide.

Ab’s eyes widened with surprise. Hide from what and how can you solve a problem in darkness without light to see its cause? . . . If you take care of your stones they’ll take care of you… Why do you need a place to hide when no one ever comes here?

You’re here aren’t you? replied Phar.

Has anyone else been here or am I the only person you’ve seen?

No, no one replied Phar. I don’t remember anything except this… Look… Can you go now I need to rest.

I will soon… but that’s what I mean… Why do you need to rest? In my room I never rest when caring for my stones and it’s always light. Don’t you ever wonder what’s out there on the other side of the walls?

I told you! snapped Phar. I don’t need anything except to be left alone.

What about the stones? asked Ab. Do you have a favourite one?

I used to have one but I lost it, a long time ago. It was different to the others… all the others have marks but this one’s perfect. He looked down with concern, It was a sad day… I looked for it for a time I can’t remember… No one came to help me find it so I stopped looking.

I’m here now. Would you like me to help you?

It’s too late said Phar. I can’t remember where I lost it and I can’t remember the name of the stones that were near it.

More light shouted Ab while standing to look again down and around the hill of stones then at his new yet sad friend. The best way to help someone dwelling in their own darkness is to take them to a place of light. I tell you what, why don’t you come with me. I’ve always taken good care of my stones and there’s plenty of light. It’ll help you think differently and see that there’s a lot more out there than just this… but if you come with me you won’t be able to come back.

What if I need a place to hide? asked Phar.

I’m afraid there’re no places to hide, but I’ll protect you. In my room there’s brightness and healthy stones… and having someone to talk to might free you from your darkness.

Phar looked down in despair. No… I have to stay here.

Who says? I left my room… I searched the wall on the other side of my room and now you’re the second one I’ve talked to. The man in that room… I call Ka… is still there… He didn’t want to leave either. I should’ve stayed longer. We’re different but together we can make a difference, so what do you say?

I’m sorry no replied Phar. I can’t hide without my darkness, I’ll be exposed.

Exposed… Yes I guess you will be… but you’ll also be standing in a light that will help you see. Light! There was light.

No light! shouted Phar causing darkness. I told you to go away and leave me alone.

Light! He looked at him sitting in the small crater of stones he called home and couldn’t think of what he might say or do to get him to change his mind and stand in the light. I’m sorry you lost your favourite stone but maybe if you had light and started sorting them out you’d eventually find it. The darkness is a terrible place to dwell without light. He waited but there was no response. The man was done talking, looking down, digesting more of his self-pity. It was time to leave and return to tend his own stones and to whatever that strange mist was in the corner of his room. No light! He could see over the top of the craters edge and the light coming from the hole he dug. It seemed inviting and somehow beautiful, cutting through the darkness.

With a feeling of achievement he slid down the side of the hill of stones towards the hole thinking how much he’d learnt since he started digging. There’s a big difference between what he knew back then and now. What he thought as the truth then is now a greater truth and the more he learnt the more complete he felt.

As he climbed through the hole towards his room the wall behind him began to close so by the time he was out and standing in his room, the hole was gone, just like before. The light was much brighter and took awhile for his eyes to adjust but it felt refreshing after being in the darkness and although he was only with the man a short time it felt like he’d been gone for ages. He tried to shake off the darkness he was sure he brought back with him then his eyes found the mist in the corner of the room, still twirling into a shape that was now beginning to form into what he thought looked like a man but he wasn’t sure.

It didn’t seem to be threatening so he sat on a small pile of stones to gaze at it for awhile but his mind kept wandering to his experiences with Ka and Phar and on what he’s going to do now. First he needs to turn and move his stones that he’s neglected for awhile. Now he understood the best thing to do is to keep moving forward. To choose the discovery of he new things or to be trapped by his room wasn’t really a decision anymore? His eyes were open and there was no turning back, his existence would never be the same. To him if that meant he would have to dig forever, then that’s what he’ll do, maybe the next time he’ll find a way out.

Staying away from the mist in the corner, he cared for what stones he could then when it was time he again touched and listened to the walls for that difference until, on a different wall he was certain he’d found it. Again he collected the stones starting with the first, almost perfect stone and again, he dug and dug until he was down to the last stone, the last yet first broken pieces. This time when he hit the end of his tunnel the wall fell away immediately exposing a smaller hole than the other two times. He peered into the brightness and again saw thousands of stones obviously taken care of but he couldn’t see their carer.

Suddenly a squinting smiling face the same as his appeared just on the other side of the hole extending his hand. Hello! Welcome friend, please come in, said the man breaking open the hole.

He was taken back bumping his head so if there was room to fall over in the hole he would. He returned the smile, took the hand, climbed from the hole and found himself standing in a room just as bright and the same as his. He noticed the stones were arranged with a combination of his own and Ka, the first man he found. One side of the room had odd piles just as his room and the other the stones were stacked in neat single piles of five stacked alongside one another. He took a long look at the man searching for differences. You don’t seem surprised, have there been others?

Oh yes, said the man. They came to help. Have you come to help?

If you want me to said Ab pulling on his scarf, but don’t you want to know who I am and where I’ve come from?

You’re here to help, smiled the man, and when you’re finished helping you’ll climb back in your hole like all the others.

Do you have a name?

The man smiled, My name is Dan. The first one who came gave it to me. What’s your name?

My name is Ab. The first one I met gave it to me. The friendship seemed to be off to a good start, they already had something in common. How many others have come here?

I don’t know, said Dan guiding him to a small pile of stones where they sat. When I get behind now and then they come to help but after awhile they leave. Are you here to help me?

Of course, he said while thinking how different all this was and how it would be good to have real company for awhile. How long have you been here?

I’ve always been here said Dan, just me and my stones.

Knowing if the others are anything to go by, then Dan should be much the same. Do you have a favourite stone?

Yes, said Dan reaching for it saying its name. I keep it near. Do you have a favourite one?

Yes but why is it your favourite stone and how did you come by it.

I don’t know, said Dan. I like it because it’s smooth and perfect but it’s always been here just as I have.

What do you do in your spare time?

I don’t have any said Dan. I should be caring for them now instead of talking to you but you’re here to help me, so we’ll catch up.

Tell me about the others, what do you remember about them? Were they dressed like me? Did they have different colour skin? Where did they come from?

Dan frowned with annoyance. I don’t know… All I know is they were here to help and when they finished they left.

Do you ever wonder what’s on the other side of the walls?

No! snapped Dan. All I know is I’m always behind and need help to catch up. That’s why you’re here… It doesn’t matter where you’re from when all I want to do is care for my stones.

Ab thought about the mysterious twirling mist in the corner of his room. Have you ever seen anything strange happen here in your room?

Dan stood What side of the room do you want to help me with?

He understood he wasn’t going to get anything more out of Dan right now so he stood and pointed to the side of the room that was similar to his. I’ll start on that side.

They worked in silence, moving and turning the stones, until exhaustion forced them into slumber and when they woke, like always, did not remember sleeping. Now and then he would look over at Dan busy with his stones and each time received a smile. It was obvious he liked having someone here to help. Hey! he called. Did you know that you can do this? No light!" and suddenly they were in darkness.

Dan was horrified thinking he’d gone blind I can’t see! What have you done to me?

Nothing… lights! He felt guilty for frightening him. See.

Dan relieved yet still angry I don’t want to know anything… I only want you to help me catch up.

He noticed that although they were working at the same pace the two different methods of caring for the stones wasn’t working causing one side to be completed before the other. You know what, if you open your eyes you might see that one way of doing the stones is better than the other which would give you more time.

Oh no, we can’t do that! said Dan. There’s only one way and it’s this way… the way it’s always done. We must do it this way.

I do it the way I’m doing this pile said Ab. Why don’t you come over to my side of the wall and see?

No Dan responded. The wall might close and we’ll never be able to come back. No we must stay here and not fall behind.

The hole has never closed when I was in another’s room so if you go through first it won’t close because you’re on the other side.

I must stay with my stones, said Dan returning to his work.

Ab finished the pile of stones, and his side of the room, and as he sat waiting for Dan to finish he thought about when he came here, that was now appearing to be further away, and wondered if his new freind still had more to teach him. His eyes widened with a gasp of realisation that some time had passed since he’d attended his own stones and stood up. I’m sorry but I have to get back to my stones.

Why?’ asked Dan. We’re having a good time aren’t we? You can help with this side."

He smiled at the somewhat stubborn man. I’m sorry but although I’m enjoying myself I really have to get back and take care of my own stones.

Every time someone comes here it’s the same, begrudged Dan. Why do they do that? Why do they stay and only do it once then leave. I thought I was good company.

You are he said starting for his hole. One of the reasons they come is not really to help you. It’s to spend time with someone else and to share what they know with them. So when another one comes, ask them questions about who they are and where they’re from and learn to see things differently. He put his head in the hole suddenly withdrawing it to look at him. Oh thankyou, believe it or not I’ve learnt quite a lot.

Dan was disappointed as he always was when they stopped helping, but he had an idea. Wait! Let’s do it now, share I mean. Where are you from and why are you here?

I’m sorry but it’s too late. I really have to get back to my stones. Just be ready next time someone comes. He climbed into the hole which seemed smaller than he remembered and realised it was closing a lot faster, too fast. He scrambled along the tunnel towards his room feeling his heals being clipped on the way through until he threw himself out thinking maybe he was away a little too long so next time he’ll have to be more careful.

He stood brushing off the experience and seeing the last of the hole shrink and disappear then out the corner of his eye he saw the mist. He spun his head to see it wasn’t a mist any more but a solid shape of a man similar in appearance to all the ones he’d met, waring the same clothes but a different colour skin, but he wasn’t moving.

A little confused about what was going on, he decided to keep away from whatever it was, and walked to the other end of the room. Suddenly a loud cracking sound coming from the opposite wall caused him to jump, then another one. Then a loud whooshing sounded from the same spot on the wall. Cautiously he crossed the stones as parts of the wall folded in on itself, swirling around and in on itself, a vortex.

There was a narrowing whooshing sound loud enough to frighten causing his to duck down behind a nearby pile of stones and peer over the top, maybe it was his masters finally coming to see and perhaps punish him for what he’s doing.

He questioned his reason for hiding. He thought if he wants to move forward then he has to face whatever this is so he stood up and away from the pile. When he dug he believed he was doing the right thing so if there were consequences, payments to be made, for his actions then he’d stand firm.

Suddenly the vortex and the noises stopped—perhaps he made the noises stop through his determination to stand. The twirling stopped forming a large archway in the wall and above his floor was a smooth slate or marble floor with light-blue and white swirling colours and reflecting the base of stairs—although he’d never seen stairs.

He waited for someone to come out but nothing happened so he got closer then he heard a voice like no other he’d heard before. It was like his voice yet it wasn’t and he could hear it all around him even in his head.

Come, said the voice. Do not be afraid, come.

He moved across the stones closer to the archway remembering his very first encounter with a person when he was handed his first and favourite stone. He concurred that all of the carers received their first stone this way but as he remembered seeing the first person shortly after he arrived, he felt something forming in his throat and it was getting bigger making it hard to breathe. He convulsed and gagged until he coughed it out to land in his hands. It was a large white glob, soft and round but then it flattened out and got a little bigger before solidifying. Now he understood, he was meant to do this. The mysterious mist in the corner of his room was the new carer being created by the stones. He turned and walked towards the new carer standing in the corner of the room watching. He approached holding the thing he expelled in the palms of his hands offering it. Please take particularly good care of this stone. He wanted to tell him so much more but he knew each new carer has to go through their own realisations and work it out for themselves.

He returned to archway cautiously stepping onto the slate floor walking towards the stairs where he was sure his masters would show themselves, demand retribution but alas no. He stood before the first step looking up wondering what might be there to greet him, but the only way he’ll to find out is to climb. He could see each step had a different symbol and colour. He stood on the first step and as he did it shouted its name and pictures flashed through his mind like old memories telling a story so by the time he’d reached the top, each one had told their part of the story and although he didn’t really understand everything he thought one day he would.

On the top step he stood quiet and still, awing at the sight of the huge marble and sandstone foyer surrounded by archways and hallways in all directions. It was quiet. There was no one except a small balding white man wearing different clothes smiling at him from behind a counter right in the middle of the foyer yet appeared to be against a wall. He was afraid but approached and could see the man wore an off white-grey cloak with the hood down and on the counter was a white book.

Can I help you? said the man.

He looked around to see if the man was talking to someone else. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be here. I might have done something wrong.

The man displayed a large smile. No one comes here unless they’re supposed to so if you’re here then you’re meant to be here. You’ve done nothing wrong. What you’ve done, you were meant to do so you could learn the lessons that would bring you here.

I dug holes in the wall and saw others in their rooms with their stones.

Yes, said the man. "The first one you found, Ka as you called him, was only interested in caring for his stones but as soon as you appeared his path and future has forever changed and already he’s wondering, just as you did. This you were meant to do for in the sameness you saw a difference and it was this difference that helped you find the second place to dig. The second one you found dwelling in self created darkness, the one you called Phar, could not move passed loosing his favourite stone and will never be able to move forward until he grieves for it and accepts that it’s gone. What should he do? He has lost one stone of many he cares for. He must use the stones he has to keep moving forward and somewhere along the way he might find the one he lost.

How’d you know I spoke to them? How do you know he’s in darkness?

It’s our job to keep an eye out for the ones searching, growing and developing… for only those who show evidence of moving forward shall be assisted.

Will he ever find his stone?

No, said the man. He’ll never find it for it was meant to be taken.

Phar told me I was the only one he’s ever seen so if I didn’t take it and it’s not in his room, and you know it was taken then you must know where it is. You could give it back to him and then everything will be alright.

The small man’s face went firm as he held out an empty palm. He had assistance and a chance to find it but because he’s afraid of the light he couldn’t see it through his own darkness. It was right in front of him… Remember now… when you were talking to him, you picked up a stone. You didn’t know but it was his favourite stone you held right in front of him but he was more concerned with his darkness and his loss that he couldn’t see… Remember now, what did you do with it?

Ab focussed and thought back to when he was talking in the darkness to Phar in his crater made of stones. I don’t remember.

Your pocket, said the man thrusting his hand at him. You put it in your pocket.

He’d never heard the word ‘pocket’ but knew what it meant gasping and grabbing for them horrified he caused so much suffering. He had no idea he could cause so much change through such a short stay. He felt the nutshell but that wasn’t the stone so he kept looking then found it, got it out and put it in the man’s hand. I’m so sorry. If I had of known I would’ve gone back and given it to him.

As I’ve said, said the man putting the stone on the counter next to the book. You’ve done nothing wrong, only what you were meant to do… This brings us to the last one man you found blinded by his obsession of caring for his stones, so much so that he didn’t want to know or see anything from anywhere that was new or different. He didn’t want change even if it was a benefit to him but your words to him as you were leaving opened his eyes and now cannot wait until someone else comes.

Ab felt more relaxed and as if he was in the right place. The stones… Why do we take care of them? What are they for?

The man sighed for this was the beginning of a repetitive procedure he went through everytime he introduced a new soul. By watching the mist in the corner of your room grow and develop you know you came into existence through the needs of those gone before you… and now you know where your favourite stone came from. It was with this stone you first struck the wall with everytime you dug because it’s the one with less damage yet the damage on the other stones was caused by all the souls who came before you when they dug as you did. If you’d held each stone a little longer instead of just moving or turning them you would’ve heard them tell you, hence some listen to their stones and never have to dig before they come to where you are now. Each single stone is a part of each single soul gone before you but as you turned and moved each one, each one became a part of you. Even as you dug you made sure to take care of your stones, this created a stronger bond tied with a stronger sense of moving forward that you’d pass on in your stone, the part that you left behind. Although this seems to be a big circle, everything is always moving forward. The last stone you used, the one that broke the first time you dug, was the oldest stone so by the time you’d left, as with all the others, the oldest stone had been destroyed and your favourite stone was just another stone to the new carer for now he had the stone you created for his favourite. The last stone going and the new one coming everytime a new soul is created gives us evolution and makes sure that the very act of creation is also moving forward. I know all this because everything, in one way or the other is connected.

But how did I know to do what I did?

It started with spaces in your thinking and the stones seemed less important than something else, a desire for something more then you listened. You heard voices of souls gone before you, the voice of your ancestors, the supreme master, the one that gives us life, the Divine Will. You listened to the whispers and searched for that difference and while you searched without understanding, you were moving forward and doing what you were supposed to do. And now here you are, a new soul, talking to me. Although he’d been doing this a long time, he still enjoyed it. He smiled as he extended his hand Hello my name is Cabat.

At first Ab stared at the hand then realised what he had to do and shook. Oh, hello my name is Ab.

Cabat pointed at the counter, This is a counter and that’s a stone. We give names to everything but the things we give names to all have proper names, real names, names not given by another creature but one given by the Divine Will… You and I, we are human souls… well I’m not but I was once… Right now you’re a new soul and when you move on you’ll become a human animal with a soul, an animal following the path of a spiritual soul… Sometimes human animals are born as animals, without a spiritual soul. They are predators and use the human brain to capture the souls of the innocent to do their bidding, even die for their cause. They only exist in the space and moment of the current time and don’t understand or consider life to be a precious thing. They have no remorse or conscience and it’s a good thing they only live once. He studied the young androgynous face wondering what he was making of all this. "I hope your listening