The Tenth Insight, page 5
We had proceeded south and were making our way down the rocky terrain.
"Other occupational groups suffer from the same condition," Joel went on. "God, look at attorneys. Perhaps there was a time when being an officer of the court meant something, when the participants in the process shared a common respect for the truth, for justice. But no longer. Think about the recent celebrity trials covered by television. Lawyers now do everything they can to subvert justice, intentionally, trying to convince jurors to believe the hypothetical when there is no evidence-hypotheticals that the attorneys know are lies-just to get someone off. And other attorneys comment on the proceedings as though these tactics are common practice and absolutely justified under our system of law, which is not true.
"Under our system, everyone is entitled to a fair trial. But the lawyers are beholden to ensure fairness and correctness, not to distort the truth and undermine justice simply to get their client off at all costs. Because of television, at least we've been able to see these corrupt practices for what they represent: simple expediency on the part of trial lawyers to enhance their reputations in or er to command higher fees. The reason they're so blatant is that they think no one cares, and obviously no one does. Everyone else is doing the same thing.
"We're cutting corners, maximizing short-term profits instead of planning long-term, because inside, consciously or unconsciously, we don't think our success can last. And we're doing this even if we have to break the spirit of trust we have with others and advance our own interests at the expense of someone else.
"Pretty soon all the subtle assumptions and agreements that hold civilization together will be totally subverted. Think what will happen once unemployment gets to a certain level in the inner cities. Crime is out of control now. Police officers aren't going to keep risking their lives for a public that doesn't notice anyway. Why find yourself on the stand twice a week getting
grilled by some attorney who's not interested in the truth anyway, or worse, writhing in pain while your lifeblood runs out on the ground in some dark alley somewhere, when no one cares? Better
to look the other way and do your twenty years as quietly as f
possible, maybe even take a few bribes on the side. And it goes on and on. What's going to stop it?"
He paused and I glanced back at him as we walked.
"I guess you think some spiritual renaissance is going LO change all this?" he asked.
"I sure hope so." He struggled over a fallen tree to catch up with me. "Listen," he continued, "I bought into this spirituality stuff for a while, this idea of purpose and destiny and Insights. I could even see some interesting coincidences happening in my own life. But I decided it was all crazy. The human mind can imagine all sorts of silly things; we don't even realize we're doing it. When you get right down to it, all this talk of spirituality is just weird rhetoric."
I started to counter his argument but changed my mind. My intuition was to hear him out first.
"Yeah," I said. "I guess it sometimes sounds that way." "Take for instance the talk I've heard about this valley," he went on. "That's the kind of nonsense I used to listen to. This is just a valley full of trees and bushes like a thousand others." He put his hand on a large tree as we passed. "You think this National Forest is going to survive? Forget it. With the way humans are polluting the oceans, and saturating the ecosystem with manmade carcinogenics, and consuming paper and other wood products, this place will become a garbage bin, like everywhere else.
In fact, no one cares about trees now. How do you think the government gets away with building roads in here at taxpayer expense and then selling the timber at below-market value? Or
swapping the best, most beautiful areas for ruined land somewhere else, just to make the developers happy? "You probably think something mystical is happening here in this valley. And why not? Everyone would love for there to be something mystical going on, especially considering the diminishing quality of life. But the fact is, there's nothing esoteric happening. We're just animals, creatures smart enough and unlucky enough to have figured out we're alive, and we're going to die without ever knowing any purpose. We can pretend all we want and we can wish all we want, but that basic existential fact remains-we can't know."
I looked back at him again. "Don't you believe in any kind of spirituality?" He laughed. "If a God exists, he must be an exceedingly cruel monster of a God. There couldn't be a spiritual reality operating here! How could there be? Look at the world. What kind of God would design such a devastating place where children die horribly by earthquakes and senseless crimes and starvation, when restaurants toss out tons of food every day?
"Although," he added, "perhaps that's the way it's supposed to be. Perhaps that's God's plan. Maybe the 'end times' scholars are correct. They think life and history are all just a test of faith to see who will win salvation and who won't, a divine plan to destroy civilization in order to separate the believers from the wicked." He attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as he drifted into his own thoughts.
Finally he quickened his pace to walk up even with me. We were entering the sage meadow again, and I could see the crow tree a quarter of a mile away.
"Do you know what these end-times people really believe is
happening?" he asked. "I did a study of them several years ago; they're fascinating."
"Not really," I said, nodding for him to go on. "They study the prophecies hidden in the Bible, especially in the book of Revelation. They believe that we live in what they call the last days, the time when all the prophecies will come true.
Essentially what they think is this: History is now set up for the return of the Christ and the creation of the heavenly kingdom on Earth. But before this can occur the Earth has to suffer a series of wars, natural disasters, and other apocalyptic events predicted in the Scriptures. And they know every one of these predictions, so they spend their time watching world events very closely, waiting for the next event on the timetable."
"What's the next event?" I asked. "A peace treaty in the Middle East that will allow the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem. Sometime after that, according to them, a massive rapture will begin among true believers, whoever they are, and they will be snatched off the face of the Earth and lifted into Heaven."
I stopped and looked at him. "They think these people will begin to disappear?" "Yeah, that's in the Bible. Then comes the tribulation, which is a seven-year period when all hell breaks loose for whoever is left on Earth. Apparently everything is expected to fall apart: giant earthquakes destroy the economy; ocean levels destroy many cities; plus rioting and crime and the rest of it. And then a politician emerges, probably in Europe, who offers a plan to pull things back together, if, of course, he's set up with supreme power. This includes a centralized electronic economy which coordinates commerce in most parts of the world. To participate in this economy, however, and take advantage of the automation,
one has to swear allegiance to this leader and have a chip implanted in one's hand, through which all economic interactions are documented. "This Antichrist at first protects Israel and facilitates a peace treaty, then attacks later, starting a world war that ultimately involves the Islamic nations, Russia, and finally China. According to the prophecies, just as Israel is about to fall, the angels of God Swoop down and win the war, installing a spiritual utopia that lasts a thousand years."
He cleared his throat and looked at me. "Walk through a religious bookstore sometime and look around; there are commentaries and novels about these prophecies everywhere, and more coming out all the time."
"Do you think these end-times scholars are correct?" He shook his head, "I don't think so. The only prophecy that's being played out in this world is man's greed and corruption. Some dictator might rise up and take over, but it will be because he saw a way to take advantage of the chaos-"
"Do you think this will happen?" "I don't know, but I'll tell you one thing. If the collapse of the middle class continues, and the poor get poorer and the inner cities get more crime-infested and spread into the suburbs, and then on top of that we experience, say, a series of big natural disasters and the whole economy crashes for a while, we'll have bands of hungry marauders preying on the masses and total panic everywhere. In the face of this kind of violence, if someone comes along and proposes a way to save us, to straighten things out, asking only that we surrender some civil liberties, I have no doubt that we'll do it."
We stopped and drank some water from my canteen. Fifty yards ahead was the crow tree.
I perked up; far in the background I could detect the faint dissonance of the hum. Joel's eyes squinted in concentration, watching me closely "What are you hearing?"
I turned around and faced him. "It's a strange noise, a hum we ve been perceiving. I think it may be some kind of experiment going on in the valley."
"What kind of experiment? Who's conducting it? Why can't I hear it?"
I was about to tell him more when we were interrupted by another sound. We listened carefully.
"That's a vehicle," I said. Two more gray Jeeps were approaching from the west and heading toward us. We ran behind a patch of tall briers and hid, and they passed within a hundred yards without stopping, heading southeast along the same path the earlier jeep had followed.
"I don't like this," Joel said. "Who was that?" "Well, it's not the Forest Service, and no one else is supposed to be driving in here. I think it must be the people involved with the experiment."
He looked horrified.
"If you want," I said, "you can take a more direct route back to town. just head southwest toward that ridge in the distance. You'll run into the stream after about three-quarters of a mile and you can follow it west into town from there. I think you can arrive before it gets too dark."
"You're not coming?"
"Not now. I'm going directly south to the stream and wait awhile for my friend."
He tensed his forehead. "These people couldn't be conducting an experiment without someone in the Forest Service knowing about it."
"I know."
"You don't think you can do anything about this, do you?
This is something big."
I didn't respond; a pang of anxiety rushed through me.
He listened for a moment and then moved past me into the valley, walking quickly. He looked back once and shook his head. I watched him until he crossed the meadow and disappeared into the forest on the other side, then I hurriedly walked toward the south, thinking again of Charlene. What had she been doing out here? Where was she going? I had no answers.
Pushing hard, I reached the stream in about thirty minutes, The sun was now completely hidden by the band of clouds at the western horizon, and the twilight cast the woods in ominous gray tones. I was tired and dirty, and I knew that listening to Joel and seeing the Jeeps had affected my mood severely. Perhaps I had enough evidence now to go to the authorities; perhaps that was the way I could help Charlene most. Several options danced through my head, all rationalizing my return to town.
Because the woods on both sides of the stream were thin, I decided to wade across and make my way into the thicker forest on the other side, although I knew that area was private property.
Once across, I stopped abruptly, hearing another jeep, then broke into a run. Fifty feet ahead the land rose quickly into a knob of boulders and outcroppings, twenty feet high. Climbing quickly, I reached the top and accelerated my pace, then leaped upon a pile of large rocks, intending to jump them quickly to the other side. When my foot hit the topmost rock, the huge stone rolled forward, throwing my feet out from under me and starting the whole pile moving. I bounced once on my hip and landed in
a small gully, the pile still tumbling my way. Several of the rocks, each two or three feet in diameter, were careening down, coming squarely for my chest. I had time to roll onto my left side and raise my arms, but I knew I couldn't get out of the way.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a wispy white form moving in front of my body. Simultaneously an unusual knowing came over me that the huge rocks would somehow miss. I closed my eyes and heard them crash on both sides. Slowly I opened my eyes and peered out through the dust, wiping the dirt and rock chips from my face. The rocks were lying neatly beside me.
How had that happened? What was that white form? For a moment I looked around the scene, and then behind one of the rocks I saw a slight movement. A small bobcat cub eased around and looked directly into my eyes. I knew it was big enough to have run away, but it was lingering, looking at me.
The rising sound of the approaching vehicle finally sent the bobcat scampering into the woods. I jumped to my feet and ran several more steps before landing awkwardly on another rock. A bolt of throbbing pain raced through my whole leg as my left foot gave way I fell to the ground and crawled the last two yards into the trees. I rolled around behind a huge oak as the vehicle pulled up to the stream, slowed for a few minutes, then raced away, again toward the southeast.
My heart pounding, I sat up and pulled off my boot to inspect the ankle. It was already beginning to swell. Why this? I thought.
As I slid around to stretch out my leg, I observed a woman staring at me from about thirty feet away. I froze as she walked
toward me.
"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice concerned but wary.
She was a tall black woman, perhaps forty, dressed in loose fitting sweat clothes and tennis shoes. Strands of dark hair had
pulled out of her ponytail and dangled in the breeze above her temples. In her hand was a small green knapsack.
"I was sitting over there and saw you fall," she said. "I'm a doctor. Do you want me to take a look?" "I'd appreciate that," I said dizzily, not believing the coincidence. She knelt down beside me and moved the foot gently, at the same time surveying the area toward the creek. "Are you out here alone?"
I told her briefly about looking for Charlene, but left out everything else. She said she had seen no one of that description. As she talked, finally introducing herself as Maya Ponder, I became convinced that she was completely trustworthy. I told her my name and where I lived.
When I finished, she said, "I'm from Asheville, although I have a health center, with a partner, a few miles south of here. It's new. We also own forty acres of the valley right here that joins the National Forest." She pointed to the area where we were sitting. "And another forty acres up the ridge to the south."
I unzipped a pocket on my hiking pack and pulled out my canteen,
"Would you like some water?" I asked. "No thanks, I have some." She reached inside her own pack, retrieved a canteen, and opened the top. But instead of drinking, she soaked a small towel and wrapped my foot, an action that made me grimace in pain.
Turning and looking into my eyes, she said, "You've definitely sprained this ankle."
"How badly?" I asked.
She hesitated. "What do you think?"
"I don't know. Let me try to walk on it." I attempted to stand, but she stopped me. "Wait a minute," she said. "Before you try to walk, analyze your attitude. How badly do you think you're hurt?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that very often your recuperation time depends on what you think, not me."
I looked down at the ankle. "I think it could be pretty bad. If it is, I'll have to get back to town somehow."
"What then?"
"I don't know. If I can't walk, I may have to go find someone else to look for Charlene."
"Do you have any idea why this accident happened now?"
"Not really. Why does that matter?"
"Because, again, very often your attitude about why an accident or illness has happened has an effect on your recuperation."
I looked at her closely, well aware that I was resisting. Part of me felt as though I didn't have time for this discussion right now. It seemed too self-involved for the situation. Although the hum had ceased, I had to assume that the experiment was continuing. Everything felt too dangerous and it was almost dark . . . and Charlene could be in terrible trouble for all I knew.
I was also aware of a deep sense of guilt toward Maya. Why would I feel guilty? I tried to shake off the emotion.
"What kind of doctor are you?" I asked, sipping some water.
She smiled, and for the first time I saw her energy lift. She had decided to trust me too. "Permit me to tell you about the kind of medicine I practice," she said. "Medicine is changing, and changing rapidly. We don't think of the body as a machine anymore, with parts that eventually wear out and have to be fixed or replaced. We're beginning to understand that the health of the body is determined to a great
degree by our mental processes: what we think of life and especially of ourselves, at both the conscious and the unconscious levels. "This represents a fundamental shift. Under the old method the doctor was the expert and healer, and the patient the passive recipient, hoping the doctor would have all the answers. But we know now that the inner attitude of the patient is crucial. A key factor is fear and stress and the way we handle it. Sometimes the fear is conscious, but very often we repress it entirely.
"This is the brave, macho attitude: deny the problem, push it away, conjure up our heroic agenda. If we take this attitude, then the fear continues to eat at us unconsciously. Adopting a positive outlook is very important in staying healthy, but we have to engage in this attitude in full awareness, using love, not macho, for this attitude to be completely effective. What I believe is that our unspoken fears create blocks or crimps in the body's energy flow, and it's these blocks that ultimately result in problems. The fears keep manifesting in ever-greater degrees until we deal with them.
Physical problems are the last step. Ideally these blocks would be dealt with early, in a preventive way, before illness develops."
"So you think all illness can ultimately be prevented or cured?" "Yes, I'm sure we will have longer or shorter life spans; that's probably up to the Creator, but we don't have to be sick, and we don't have to be the victim of so many accidents."
