Radically Happy

Hat tip to Screen Crush

Continued from Sex 402: Big Sir

I am in a lush meadow.
Full of flowers.
Full of pollen.
Full of bees.

I see an elderly yet somehow ageless woman
Smiling maternally at the bees as they go about their business.

Without thinking I blurt out…

The Earnest Redeemer: Don’t trust them! They will fail you. They won’t live long enough to fulfill their purpose!

Mother Nature: [smiling] And why do you say that?

E: Er… because they will die? They are small, weak, fragile.

M. Why, so they are. But why do you see that as a problem?

E. Because… isn’t the purpose of life to live?

She pauses and puts her hand on her chin, eyes downcast as if seriously pondering my question.

M. I’m not so sure. What do you think?

E. Er… is it perhaps to create more life?

M. Oooh [clapping her hands girlishly] I like that.

E. But… doesn’t that mean my own life… doesn’t mean anything… by itself?

Instead of answering, she walks over and wraps me in a motherly hug. I feel like a child of five again. I climb into her lap and snuggle into her earthy warmness.

M. [whispering] What do you think?

E. [in a child’s voice, muffled by being swaddled in her arms] Maybe the purpose of life is to love and be loved. Living and dying, eating and being eaten, giving and taking away. As long it is being done for love, with love, by love — that is true life.

She hums a lullaby, and I slowly drift to sleep.

Epilogue

I wake in a Greek theater.
Standing on a stage.
Love and War sit attentively on the front row.

War: So, little man, did you find your answer?

Earnest: Maybe. I have learned that conquest is form of love, and that love is a form of conquest. Ares conquers for love. Aphrodite conquers with love. The former is more efficient, but the latter is more effective.

Love: Brilliant [with a twinkle in her eye]. So where do you go now?

E. I… am not sure. I feel like I have AN answer. But somehow it doesn’t feel like THE answer.

D: Maybe I can help!

I hear a creaking sound. From above, a box slowly lowers down to the stage. It contains a diminutive man. Looking remarkably like Danny de Vito. Wearing a toga. With a laurel wreath for a crown.

It reaches the stage. The little man pops out.

E. Who in God’s name are you?

D. Why, I am the Deus ex Machina of course. And I believe I have the answer to all of your questions.

L. All of us?

D. Naturally.

W. [suspiciously] What’s the catch?

D. No catch. Although, you do have to trust me just a little.

E. How… little?

Deus holds his pudgy hands several inches apart.

D. Just about… this far?

W. How long is that, exactly?

D. [grinning] Just long enough for me [pulling a wand from the box] to do this!

The wand makes three quick strokes in the air. And they vanish.

Leaving the stage empty. Except for the box.

And a burnt-out wand.

To be continued…