"Maybe I'm not a dunce, after all," he thought.
The women had gathered in the foyer of the dining hall to
discuss the upcoming festival. One of them had spotted the first turned leaf of
autumn, so that festival was due. Then there would be another festival about
midway through the turning of the leaves, near peak color, and another after all
the leaves were down, attended by much raking.
"We're always celebrating something," he thought.
The world had separated as the Avatar predicted, a
vainglorious early human history having been eradicated by God's new uses for
power, that nobody guessed about, and there having been found to be absolutely
no commensurateness between the human intellect and the angelic one. Ben didn't
feel much like an angel, most days. He couldn't fly around, and if he noticed
any special glow about himself, he was the only one. There was still a large
"other" society, where the people drove cars and chose their own
professions. Money was still used over there, and there always seemed to be some
new guru getting the people excited, but as Kurt and others had said, they never
came near the pure virtues, that Ben and everyone he knew seemed to possess
naturally and effortlessly.
Ben was seven now, which is a fairly "ripe old
age," among the Nameless. In the main world they still stayed with their
parents until age eighteen or even older, which is something that gave Ben wry
amusement. He had been well-prepared by his parents for his own coming-of-age
ceremony, on his sixth birthday, and leaving them to live in his own independent
quarters had been easy and natural. His mother and father gave him a kiss and a
hug goodbye, neither with a tear in their eye or any sign of sorrow. Instead
they had a happy feeling that they achieved their responsibility fully by him,
and with some eagerness looked forward to resuming their own romance, passionate
for the presence of one another. In the world, romantic passion was basically
dead with marriage and children, but it had been explained to Ben this was
because the minds of those people were consumed by object-models. If they are
unable to see the beloved as a living spirit, one whose personality blossoms and
morphs around their own, it is very difficult for them to develop soul-mate
bonds. Failing to perceive the true nature of the beloved, in his or her
intrinsic personality traits, how can there be a real romance, spanning
lifetimes?
When he left his parents it was into a world rich with
interaction, as Ben found the adults in the commune took him seriously as an
individual, and enjoyed spending time with him over games, projects, or
education. They had his childhood extensively planned out, not rigidly, but with
enough options on every side that he never felt he had time on his hands to
waste. About half the people in his commune were single, that Kurt had called
supersexuals. These were always bobbing in and out of his life, inviting him for
activities. Ben thought with a shudder about how they still touched one another
in the world, even to shake hands or pat on the back. How that would destabilize
his own mind! He had never seen anyone touching, except for his parents, or
between the other soul-mates. He thought with a chuckle of how the Nameless had
given new meaning to the word "fidelity," since the soul-mates seemed
to find one another with one hundred percent certainty, usually without going on
a specific search. Ben wondered if he was a supersexual, or a heterosexual. He
knew the instruction was to go foursquare for God, and it was very logical to
him that this would secure the soul-mate absolutely, if he had one at all. In
any case that was something he seldom thought about as a child. He could live
carefree until the late twenties, before thinking of facing that question!
That old movie, Village of the Damned (1960), had proven
uncannily accurate with respect to the angelic children. All the children he
knew had a very serious side like that, and they were quick to see evil, like it
showed in the film. He decided that he must not be a dunce, because he liked
them for their noble traits, that are so unlike the children of the world. Ben
had never seen a child whining, or rebelling against an adult figure, although
he like the others had occasionally challenged the adults over the way they were
doing things, waiting to hear the explanation. The Nameless were nothing if not
perfectionists. If something couldn't be made even better than it was, it just
wasn't possible given the limitations of things.
They also had telepathy, as he discovered to his delight many
times. The others sometimes seemed to know what he was thinking, and he also
sometimes anticipated their thoughts. No one had a clear comprehension of the
mechanism of this subtle action. One needed to be in a high samadhi-state, to
perceive that. Telepathy operated among his people like an unconscious function,
such as breathing or digestion. It added a dimension of excitement to living, so
that speech was not the only mode of communication, but unlike speech, telepathy
came more plainly from the divine regions of awareness. You couldn't anticipate
it. It was like a fresh flower you were supposed to discover, but he had been
told that even to integrate such events into an ordinary day, required powers
beyond the human potential, exhibited in the world.
As he was walking out of the dining hall, he espied Sarah.
She gave him a big scowl. "That was just right," he thought. The
female body was so beautiful, that the girls took classes in scowling, so that
any traces of sense attachments were killed in the boys. Perhaps they were
indeed angels, but the senses react to the sense objects, particularly in these
bodies designed through evolution to be supportive of animal consciousness too,
with their hormones and moods. The females protected their bodies for the
soul-mate, by traps against any wandering male minds around them. Ben was wise,
he knew this scowl meant Sarah could become a good friend of his, and her
actions helped him focus on his own love-power, that would be differentiated to
eros and a more general community love.
Ben wondered how anyone could even think of love, in a
situation where touching was possible. If there is any potential for touching,
the love cannot be pure and spiritual. Doesn't anyone know that? Since his commune observed strict asparshana (except for the dances and within the
soul-mate arrangement), he could wrap thousands of cords of his love around
everyone, without fear of sense contagion. He had learned quickly too that the
authentic signs of love are profound, not the open face full of desire and
expectation, but the good companion ready with wit and energy under all
circumstances. He had learned to access deep inner spaces, to observe the people
in their noble attributes, which supports love naturally since there you see the
reason they are worthy of affection.
Ben had learned that God had indeed seen fit to support a
race of supermen among His regular men, and exploring their differences was one
of their art forms. What had been written in man's early scriptures about the
ego reversing right and wrong, night and day, was now written literally upon the
world stage, as the Nameless were roundly detested by the main society, although
their way of life appeared sane, logical and sweet to them. "We are super
in our compassion, marvelous in our gentleness," he thought. The Nameless
domination was in morality and spirituality. They were moving energetically
forward into all the subtle glories of which spirit is capable, in emotion, word
and action.
Unfortunately for the regular men, there was no bridge to
them from what Ben and his people found to be easy and natural, but which really
were subtle powers and immense spiritual knowledge. The spiritual leaders kept
demonstrating this as they'd be tasked with bringing out knowledge about
knowledge, which is an extra layer upon the ordinary daily awareness of the
rest, who simply did what was right, regarding what was wrong to be illogical
and foolish. Virtue is liking what is objectively good, but how it was that he
and his people liked what God also liked, was not easy to explain.
Ben had even met the Avatar, who was now fifteen, and had
been on a bike trip from another local commune. When he saw the Lord, he somehow
knew right away that this person was different, and he could see the aura of the
Lord shining with constant splendor. Yet the Nameless did not bow to him
overtly, or give him undue attention. He moved among the rest almost as one of
them, and the others used their powers to support the situation by their best
wisdom, that ended up being good enough that the Lord smiled on most of it, and
only occasionally made recommendations, not much different from the life of any
other youth who scrutinized his society and thought about improvements.
Ben's people lived in a continuous ecstasy. Interactions with
one another were like a type of blessed food for them, which they had been told
was not possible among the egos, where there was grasping and tearing rather
than warm-heartedness and joy. Ben really felt that it was true, possessions are
a type of burden for the free soul, and if he asked for more than the others
could have, it would be very unfriendly, an act of enmity! Yet the egos started
precisely here, as they encountered sense objects and said, "Mine."