|Public Domain Science Fiction Writer||
|THE LOVE IN HONITI|
The nihilism of endless questioning was liberating. For so long people had been afraid to ask, especially the young. And the Dogmatons did not know there was this deep fear. They thought everyone thought like they did. They thought everyone understood that following Codex was a way of avoiding Pagan times, but what they hadn’t understood was that their power had been misused and become censorship. Their own fear had taken them over. So afraid of Pagan times they had become stuck in a mindset, symbolised by the Codex, they saw the arising creativity as the return of the rabid individualism that was encouraged by the Pasur. And when that creativity began to attach Dogmatons another fear kicked in, a fear they were unwilling to face. What had started positively, a liberal movement that had taken the Yoxa out of Pagan times, had become the new prison guards of censorship and repression. |
This censorship of course was the power of delusion, colluding with ego. They were in power, these Council leaders, they controlled the Dispolice, many of whom were Liberalistas. This power became addictive, and power corrupts. Within Dogmaton society there were no mechanisms to control this corruption. And this train of thought drew Honiti to a meeting at the Cotla.
After the old had turned society into a mass of questioning, it became recognised that the old had much to offer; it wasn’t just this hysteria of questioning that the old helped people with. Once this turmoil had settled, and it became integral that there was “feedback” from the old, this showed in one way by meetings at the Cotla in which the views of the old were sought.
At one such meeting Maa Yai had been amongst the “panel”.
“Putting people out to pasture because they were not longer capable of physical wage-slavery had evolved into putting people into homes because their minds weren’t sharp enough. This was an amazing lack of understanding of life – of the stages of life of the way Gaia intended humanity to develop.
“And it was another example of how Dogmatons failed to see how they were censoring society. With the censorship and repression Yoxa minds had not developed naturally during their lives, Dogmaton repression had stunted mental growth., and this stunted growth had led to a return of the diseases of the old such as dementia and Alzheimer’s.”
“I understood that dementia and such were as a result of repression and poor diet in the Pagan times,” asked one of the Cotla audience, young Bartie.
“In Pagan times they were,” answered Pituk, a retired doctor. “But it was so much more in those times. Frustration of the human spirit was compounded by horrific practices of introducing chemicals into food, manipulation of food genes, creating hybrid seeds in the lab - primarily for increased yield, and these were done without proper research first.”
“That makes no sense,” Bartie continued – he was a scientist.
“It was Pagan times, Bartie,” smiled Pituk. “Nothing made sense.
“Some research was done but it was never enough. Just part of the many games the Pasur played to delude the Yoxa they cared about them. They demonised government. They funded activists who were angry with government pretending to control their massive egos. These egos ranted on about restriction of freedom by government, and of course government did restrict but at the instruction of the Pasur. It was just Pasur manipulation.
“Sorry I digress. Part of these games were government regulations. Ostensibly regulation was meant to help Yoxa. In terms of the manipulation of food one branch of government was supposed to protect Yoxa by demanding integrity of research. This helped the profits of the Pasur because they then charged more. But they had backdoors that ensured they got what they wanted, if regulations blocked the Pasur the backdoors unblocked.
“Again I digress, I am a doctor after all,” smiled Pituk “and it makes me angry that there was such manipulation of healing – and many doctors helped.
“To the matter at hand dementia and the Dogmatons,” he continued aware of some youthful impatience. “In their case it was primarily brought on by the repression of the human spirit that was inherent in Dogmaton society, inherent in the Codex. Here is an old blog from Dogmaton times in which someone described what their old age was like for them:-
“Codexed to dementia”
Being old is frustrating. You have spent your whole life learning, and when you have the time to analyse and give back Dogmatons don’t want to listen.
I began to realise the Dogmatons were committing the same crimes as Pasur – not war of course but crimes against the Yoxa. We were told this, we were told that. And we bought into it. The Pasur learnt that it was necessary for the Yoxa to agree to be wage-slaves and wage war, they couldn’t force all of them. So it was propaganda, make the Yoxa addicted to media and propagandise, in another blog I will look at how they did that – link.
But mainly it was delusion how they did it. They told us “We don’t always get it right but we are the bets there is.” Then on the media they showed us how awful everyone else was.
That’s all the Dogmatons did. Only they had history to show what the Pasur had done, and we don’t want that. Then they said all those who don’t want Dogmatons, don’t recite the Codex, must want Pagan times. Life was restricted to Dogmaton or Pagan.
And Yoxa were working they didn’t have time to analyse – think for themselves. Of course they had the Codex meditation, recite and understand the Codex, so if Yoxa were feeling stressed there was the answer – Codex meditation.
So what happens when you retire? You have time to meditate. You are not meditating about Codex, you can meditate about life. Is life just Codex? Why have creatives really happened? Why are creatives a threat to Dogmatons?
When I was meditating last night I began to think about Codex. I recited the main Codex to myself, and then I remembered some of the Corollacodex. In my mind I began to fit these Codex together in a wall, this one connected to this one and so on, we were often encouraged to see how they fit together. And then instead of fitting them together I began to see myself step back from the wall. I moved further and further back from the wall, and the wall, the Codex, got less and less important. And this wall was covering a light, and I watched as the further back from the wall I got the brighter the light got. And then all there was was light. And then I knew the nature of the Codex. All my life I had worked and for what - to build a wall against the light.
I felt great joy.
Then I felt frustration. I must tell people about this. In the home I told people but they weren’t listening, they were old, they wanted to enjoy the rest of their lives peacefully – not having to work. So who wants to know? Yoxa. But they are all working – and reciting the Codex.
Who can I tell? I know this, life is just so wrong, everybody is wrong, and I now know the dementia of human spirit.
“What happened to this person?” asked Bartie, and he saw Pituk shrug. “I only have this blog.”
“I guess there were many more such people,” sighed Pituk, “Stuck in homes, a lifetime of experience, developing wisdom, young people fighting their battles, Dogmatons refusing to listen, and the world being just wrong. Is there any surprise there was still dementia?”
“But there were some Codex-demented for whom euthanasia would have been a mercy,” quipped Maa Yai; the panel laughed, the audience were less sure.
“Nowadays wisdom of the old is recognised, and we have Gurudasa to thank for that,” mused Pituk.
“History might remember Gurudasa,” interrupted Maa Yai “but she was only the catalyst, a person in that moment of time. It was the Yoxa fighting off their chains that brought about the change. Gurudasa was not on her own, many old people stood up and repeated what she was saying – adding their own wisdom.
“But that would have been nothing – contained. What the old people were saying struck a chord with so many young people. I was not a creative but I hated seeing what was happening to them. It was just plain wrong. We all rallied behind Gurudasa and the old people. It was a good combination. The Dogmatons could not blame it on youthful indiscretion nor could they blame it on the demented.
“And the Liberalistas began to see how trapped they had become in their confrontation. I remember the incident at Oak Farm – soon after Wakington. Now Oak Farm was an artist collective in the city, and the city is supposed to be more tolerant. Spurred on by the lack of punishment for the people of Kudulan, the Liberalistas decided to destroy this commune. Now Oak Fram also had communes for the old, and when they heard that the liberalistas were attacking the commune, all the old people came out and placed themselves between the creatives and these ignorant Liberalistas.
“It must have been funny to see these young people squaring up to each other, and then all the old folks staggering towards them. When they got there they just stood in the way of the Liberalistas. By this time the creatives were angry and prepared to fight back. But no-one could fight because all of these frail old people were in the way. They couldn’t push these old people away, they couldn’t hurt the old folk – that would end any support the Council gave the Liberalistas.
“This sparked the creative communes into action, and they organised shields. Organisations of old people got together and allocated themselves to all the communes so if the Liberalistas came there would be old shields.
“But this quickly had a knock-on effect. There was Wakington, the Old Farm shield and other shields, but more importantly people just began questioning. The Council became isolated by their ego, public opinion turned against the Liberalistas because of the shields, and soon the Great Questioning started.”
They took a break, the old people were tired.
Honiti met with Lina. “It is good we meet these old people, their wisdom does help us step back, but,” he told her.
“I know, they send you to sleep,” she chirped in. “But they are of course right, young people try to be too quick, and then they make so many mistakes.”
“I agree but they can be,” they both echoed together “so boring.”
They decided to walk, well not really a decision they just walked off together. “How is Naica?” she asked, but she saw he didn’t want to talk about her. “I’m coping,” was all he wanted to say, but there was no further answer. “Gerald was off saving the world again,” she laughed infectiously. Her humour usually brought a reaction but he seemed sullen, turned inside. She watched but there was nothing – just distance. She linked his arm, and they continued walking.
She could feel the emotion running up inside him, what had Naica done? Then suddenly he turned to her, and calling out “Oh Lina,” he grabbed her and kissed her passionately. His embrace overwhelmed her, the passion came from deep inside him. She tried to resist but her own feelings for him were drawn out by the strength of his emotion. Soon she fell helplessly in his embrace savouring every second.
They hugged each other for what seemed an eternity, and then almost synchronously there was a pushing away. Not really physical but they both knew it should not have happened. Honiti was immediately apologetic, but Lina simply said “I wanted you to kiss me, don’t feel guilty.”
“It has to stop there,” Honiti said, and she smiled “Of course it does.”
“I promise I’ll never do that again,” his guilt continued.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she laughed at his guilt and pride. Slowly his passion calmed, his emotions fell away, and he laughed at himself with her. They linked arms, continued walking in silence.
“It is time to go back,” she said, turning him.
Checking he agreed. “You know I love you,” he said almost matter-of-factly.
“I know, it’s OK,” she said. He began to talk again but she stopped him – sometimes he didn’t know how important being silent together was.
They of course arrived back late. The panel of elders had reconvened and Maa Yai was talking.
“I remember the euphoria of the questioning. We would be up all night arguing together, we discussed everything from government to policing to life itself. There was a communality that had not existed before in my life. It surprised us all.”
“Not everyone was surprised, the creatives just said the time had come,” interjected Pigo “for them the euphoria was not in the questioning, that had been the essence of their art, they now had the freedom to express. They didn’t join in the questioning – except when asked, the questioning was not for them it was for the Yoxa who had accepted the lead of the Dogmaton Council for so long.”
“We don’t have all this questioning now, is there something going wrong?” asked Cornira, partly knowing the answer.
“The questioning was an escape valve,” Maa Yai answered “it was a call for recognition, Yoxa just wanted to be who they were. There had been no chance for this expression under the Council, our world was just so full of fear.”
“What changed then?” Cornira asked, a few stared at her impatience and she looked sheepish.
Maa Yai ignored this and continued “Eventually the questioning started to turn to frustration. The answer had been to destroy the Codex, destroy the fear that was the bedrock of the Council’s rule. But these were negatives, people did not have positives. Questioning alone did not produce positives.
“Funnily the answer came at Gurudasa’s burning,” she continued.
“Out of death comes life,” muttered Pigo. Maa Yai ignored, he was sometimes an old fool with his aphorisms.
“Her daughter, Inea, gave the eulogy:-
“I loved my mother. She struggled all her life because no-one listened to her. I used to say to her to be careful, if you were a creative the Liberalistas would hassle you.
“But for her own protection she never wrote anything down.”>
When she said this she looked around, she could almost hear their thoughts “We wish she had written it down.”
“Recently she made it her life’s work to write it down. She was always so tired. Once Yoxa began listening to her, they kept asking her to speak. It was such a strain on her but she was so happy because she was being listened to.
“But she knew she had to write it down. As she was nearing her death she made me promise to print the book. She could have gone to a publisher but she didn’t want all that was associated with publishing. There were too many demands on her anyway.
“She gave me this to read out at her cremation:-
“For you all today may be sad but my time has come, Gaia rules. But no-one can have lived a more fulfilled life than I because Yoxa have gained their freedom from the oppression their fear had generated. Now I have seen that there can be no greater joy.
“But Yoxa, your journey is far from over. There is so much more. You have listened to me when I spoke of egotivism where people were actively involved in removing ego from our daily life especially the ego of those who were once powerful. And Yoxa embraced this with all their questioning.
“But Yoxa you never looked at following the path, egotivism was only the first stage of pathtivism.”
At this point Inea broke down in tears, all she could see was her mother’s teeth as she laughed. People came up to her but she waved them away. “I will continue,” she spoke defiantly, the words creeping out through the tears.
“My mother wants me to laugh here. “See Inea laugh, she has all her teeth,” Gurudasa wrote. “Laugh. Pathtivism - no, not the path. Is Gurudasa now a Dogmaton?”
Inea broke down again; many at the funeral were laughing with Gurudasa yet crying for her at the same time.
After she had collected herself Inea continued.
“Egotivism is not a way forward for Yoxa, it is only a way of expunging the past. There is only the path, not the path of repression that the Dogmatons hid behind, but the path of life, of Gaia, that we were born to follow.
“Pick up the cards in front of you. From today on please can we end this questioning of the ego and begin by following the path. As you leave please collect my book “The future is pathtivism”. It would make me happy in death that Yoxa, if you accept what I have written then your lives will be an attempt to follow the path, the path of Gaia.”
Inea held up one of the cards. She just stood there holding the card with tears in her eyes. Through her emotion she tried to watch as those present read the words of her mother. For some she saw light in their eyes, and she imagined that they had imbibed on the spirit of her mother. She sat down, she felt their joy – she felt her mother’s joy.