His first memory is of sitting in the front yard, playing with some toys in the mud.
Not me; just a kid in the mud.
The years that follow are fascinating. He tells us his story ...
"I watch and learn, trying to find the rhythm of this world where I live. I observe and cooperate. I float along with the current. I make a conscious effort to smile, nod, stand, and perform the millions of gestures that constitute life on Earth. I assimilate the thoughts I'm given, study the actions and choices until they become reflexes.
Why am I here? I know there's more; this world can't be all there is.
Finally, I remember that long letter from Dad. It arrived years ago, and I only read a little of it; I was very young at the time and the letter is really long. So I find in the letter that this world isn't my home, and it's not all there is. It's just school and work, and my Father has laid out a long path ahead of me with good opportunities along the way.
Nuts. Now I have to undo all that assimilating and cooperating. I have to dump all the 'normal' thinking I've worked so hard to learn, and I have to learn skills this world doesn't teach if I'm going to graduate.
I had a brief view of the sun and the 'real' world the other day. Seen from the classroom window, the curtains were back and the horizon was just visible in the distance.
Flooding it all was this blazing light that somehow filled out everything it touched. Nothing soft and gentle about it, it was powerful enough to shake me to the core as I stood watching. That's probably why the curtains aren't open all the time; we'd never get any work done."
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