A Simple Story
Once upon a time, a little sphere was bouncing along a
particularly rough path and beginning to wonder if his journey was worth
the trouble. He was of the race of Hedrons and like most, should have
been very proud of his race. (Weren't they the only race they knew
of and, therefore, the best?) This particular sphere wasn't really
a sphere, but a many-sided polyhedron. His many sides made traveling
rather easy. The Hedrons had merely to push their muscles forward,
throw their balance off, and roll in that direction. Most Hedrons had
many less sides and traveling was much harder.
The little sphere finally felt free after leaving school
for the last time. The Hedrons school was a crowd of youngsters led
by a few elders who would basically teach them how to travel in life. They
would follow paths (well-marked, of course) around Hedron-land, in the "Plain
of Life", as they coincidentally called it. The elders would point
out various hills and mountains, which they generally referred to as "knowledges",
and meticulously avoided and even forbade approaching the valleys and depressions,
named "pleasures". The little sphere felt free because at school he
was made to travel slowly along with all the few-sided Hedrons. The
elders, mostly few-sided hexahedrons or even decahedrons, could move faster
than the youngsters because their sharp edges were worn a little smoother.
However, they felt that all the youngsters should travel together so
as not to hurt the feelings of lesser-sided Hedrons. They remembered
how it had been for them when they were young.
Then again, most little Hedrons wanted to stay with the
other little Hedrons. They didn't want to be standing out from the
group, and perhaps, risk the chance of being judged on their individual skill
of traveling. However, they were only "doing what their elders told
them." Above all, they were told never to touch each other in certain
ways. In the beginning of time, if a Hedron touched the soft side of
other Hedrons, they would cleave into smaller Hedrons. The Hedrons
came to forbade this sort of thing because too many Hedrons were already
around. Now, in order to travel with the others, they abstained, even
though times had changed, and cleavage could be controlled... They
simply believed it was too dangerous, to travel on their own.
The little sphere pushed forward ever more vigorously
at these memories of school. But suddenly, he slowed down again. He
remembered going along with his friend one day by a well-worn path to a large
valley. Close by were many other acquaintances easily rolling down
the slopes. Most were few-sided Hedrons who found it easier traveling
downward. The little sphere could just make out in the far distance
dull-sided pentahedrons and hexahedrons sitting alone at the bottom of deep
depressions. What made him leave was the sight of the steep slopes
into those depressions - he knew he'd never be able to push himself out once
he fell in. Besides, this valley was so deep that it was rather dark.
Others were much more pleasant and even sensuous. In some, the
ground was electric and vibrant. Some Hedrons even stayed for life,
as was obvious by their squatting shape and immobility. He was horrified
by the prospect of ever being unable to travel though, and soon left there
also.
The little sphere recalled how he'd next recognized a
very dusty path, but well-known to all and traveled by many. The path
to another valley was well-marked with light (only from within) and
the words, "This was to Heaven." A crowd pushed him from behind as
they circled the entrance admiringly (but continued on off the path). He couldn't
believe though that some legendary Hedron no one had ever seen or heard could
reflect the horizon (which was called "awareness" or "truth") into the valley
for him. So he wandered on.
He wandered past great Hedron-made foundations, formed
of the bodies of dead Hedrons (mostly few-sided, for extra stability). On
top sat appointed Hedrons (mostly many-sided) who ran the land for all
other Hedrons. Few Hedrons were around, but that didn't matter to
the ones on top. They could tell everyone what they needed anyway.
So he went on and started up the slope of a great moutain.
After awhile the view was exhilarating. Many crowds were up this
far and had a clearer sight of the horizon, from which a glow eminated (
much brighter than seen from the plain). Continuing upward, some crowds
asked the little sphere where he was going and he would point to a crowd
a little higher up. This happened several times and each time the crowd
became more disgusted with him. "After all," they shouted, "what do
you think the purpose of traveling is?" They were satisfied,
because they cold barely see the words, "THE TRUTH" on the horizon and were
sure they had the answer.
The little sphere though only pointed up ahead to them.
He remembered how he had caught a glimpse of the tops of yet more
letters. He had been still for a while, remembering all these things.
He knew now that the people on the side of the mountain were unaware
that the mountain hid a great part of the horizon behind itself. He
resolutely turned away from the mountain base, the plain, and the valleys
and pushed forward. He could see almost all the horizon, but the tip
of the peak hid the last words from him. He could read only, "THE TRUTH
IS, LIFE IS" and he wondered, "What does the peak cover?"
Kyle Davenport
c. 1978