If a Tree Falls in the Forest….
Originally posted October 9, 2015
[This was channeled over several days. As I mentioned in the previous post, I’m learning that I can “call” for an entity with whom I’ve previously communicated, which means I can revisit those I find interesting; hear more details of their story, ask questions if I have them. I imagine I will be exploring this more as I continue.]
Work is what we do to survive. Everything else is play.
Our jobs change as we go through life. It is a baby’s job to suckle and grow; to learn to walk. As a child, his job is to learn how to function and survive in the world.
A child needs to learn what to drink when he is thirsty and what is good to eat when he is hungry. He must learn what is edible, what will make him sick, and what might kill him. He must learn which creatures are harmless and which can cut a grown man down alive. He needs to learn which insects and reptiles are harmless, which are merely annoying, and which can kill with a bite or a sting. He needs to learn to always keep an eye out for good, round stones of the right shape and heft for a slingshot. He must learn to climb a tree like a monkey, which is not something so easy to do. He must learn which are the best kind of feathers to fletch an arrow and how to gather what is necessary to make poison for the tip.
Children must be able to survive on their own as early as possible. The sick and infirm are not attended to very much. If a mother were to spend all her time nursing a sick child, she would not have time to hunt for food or do any of the other chores she needs to survive. And then, they would both die. Perhaps her other children, too.
There is no room for the weak.
This is not from lack of compassion. This is a necessity of survival for all.
In my life before this one, I lived as a successful, urban man in a busy city. In that life, I had no peace. When I read about or heard about what were called primitive tribes, I regarded them as some curious vestige of the Stone Age. They had no part in the modern world and so were easily dismissed as unimportant. If a culture, a society couldn’t keep up with the times, they would perish; become extinct. That’s just the way it goes. Why should I care?
But I can tell you now, from here, that such people are the soul of the human race. If they die, the human race loses its way to redemption.
Modern man, for all his technology, is completely disconnected from his roots. He doesn’t grow or kill what he eats. He doesn’t tread lightly upon the earth, taking only what he needs and leaving little trace of himself when he is gone.
Unlike the modern man, the “primitive” does not consume more than he gives back. He does not destroy his home but instead lives in symbiosis with it. He is acutely in tune with nature; aware of seasons by the stars in the sky. He tells time by the sun. He trusts his instincts. He can know every corner of a new place by smell. He can walk and make no sound. He can focus for hours on the smallest task. He feels no outside stress or existential angst. He needs no money. His wealth is in his ability to live in harmony with his environment.
He belongs to a small group of humans who have no choice but to get along with each other. Together, they obey rules of civil conduct and etiquette, assuring smooth relations all around. For the same reason, they are tolerant of differences in each other. They work together as a community, codependent upon each other, like a single living organism. There is no choosing to walk away from this. To abandon your tribe (or be abandoned by it) is to die.
These are all the things which are missing from the lives of modern humans, and which they yearn for. They feel the pull of it. They know the rightness of it. They try, in their small way, to find it. And yet, they are prisoners of their own technology. It’s too late for them to go back.
If a huge electromagnetic pulse or invasive computer virus wiped out all the trappings of modern life, modern man would be completely helpless. Like a child who has not learned his lessons, he would not survive; that’s how unable he is to live without all his conveniences, which have become necessities.
But those primitive tribes, isolated and living deep in the forests, they would survive as if nothing had happened. They would provide the seeds for a new human race.
That is why they are the soul, the very essence of the human race. They must not be allowed to perish. When they die, humans lose their connection to where they began and who they really are. This connection to our primal childhood must not be severed.
[Before we part, he wants to show me something. In an instant, we are floating down a river in a small boat. The last rays of the sun are passing through the leaves of the high treetops. It’s a spectacular sight!
I feel he has more to say to me, and I am enjoying his company, but it’s late and I want to sleep.
…to be continued