The Parable of the Thinker, Part 3

My soul is feasted as with marrow and fat, and my mouth praises thee with joyful lips, when I think of thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the watches of the night; for thou hast been my help, and in the shadow of thy wings I sing for joy.

-   Psalms 63:5-7

 

"There is so much out here in the world," he thought. "I don't even know where to begin."

 

Since he no longer felt a need to control his thoughts, James relaxed and allowed the thoughts to come of their own accord, giving them free rein to dictate the topic and tone. None of the subjects they chose mattered since thinking itself was the only important thing now. As long as he could watch himself think he would be happy.

 

"Think about whatever you want, mind," James told himself. Strangely he felt the need to apologize as well so he added, "I'm sorry I've tried to control you for so long."

 

Immediately after this, he found his thoughts were drawn to a large tree that was swaying gently in the breeze across the street from his house, so walking over to it he began to inspect its bark. He ran his fingers over the rough surface as his mind thought about nothing but the tree. Looking up, he was mesmerized by the motion of the branches in the wind and the gentle noise of the rustling of the leaves. He began to hear other sounds too and his mind happily sorted through them. There were animal sounds - birds and squirrels - the sounds of cars in the distance, and of the nearby city too, a whole cacophony of sounds. As he stood thinking about the tree in front of him his imagination began to paint its entire history.

 

James could see it growing from a tiny sapling. He envisioned the seemingly endless procession of days and nights as it slowly stretched toward the heavens. Around it, in high-speed motion (at least relative to the tree's growth) a bustling world transformed itself. Birds and other animals approached it, alighting for a season on it, using some portion of its presence for their own purpose, before moving on and disappearing in time. Grass shot up out of the ground, fluttered in the breeze as days went by, and then withered and perished under the snow. Next to the tree a road was plowed years ago, then pavement was applied, cementing the road in place. More years went by and houses began to pop into existence until they stretched as far as the eye could see all around the tree. The tree, however, cared about none of this. It wasn't swayed by the chaotic world around it. No matter what occurred nearby, it remained rooted with single-minded determination, focused solely on its own growth, its own will to reach ever higher towards the sun, closer into the presence of the thing that sustained its existence, its tender arm-like branches eternally stretching upward in praise and thankfulness and pure unbridled joy.

 

Thinking about this, seeing it in this light, James felt an enormous sense of camaraderie with the tree...and, for that matter, with the entire world around him.

 

"Everything is like me," he thought.

 

Even though he knew the tree did not have a brain, or think thoughts formed of words, or have any real consciousness at all, James now knew that, like him, the tree "was". It too had a purpose and he was sure it found joy in simply fulfilling that purpose. It wasn't that the tree thought, "I feel joy". It was joy. By simply existing as a tree and doing what trees do it somehow manifested joy.

 

James stayed there for many hours contemplating the tree and the joy he could sense behind it somewhere. The tree was joyous, the road was joyous, the entire world that stretched in all directions was joyous, and James himself was joyous too. In fact, everything now appeared to James to be demonstrating the same unbridled delight.

 

At some point his contemplation was interrupted by more tangible thoughts. Once again, he didn't try to prevent or control them. He simply watched with great interest as they slowly formed, bubbling, brewing and erupting out of the nothingness inside his mind, a strange and astounding genesis. The thoughts came from somewhere unseen, some remote unknown source and, as they grew, James could only wonder what they would be like. What sorts of sentences would his mind create on its own? What sorts of insights and ideas did it intend to deliver to him?

 

A sentence appeared in his mind of its own accord. "Your purpose is to think." James smiled in acknowledgment.

 

"Yes, I know," he responded, "but what is best to think about?"

 

His mind was playful and posed a riddle. "What haven't you thought about at all yet?"

 

James was puzzled by this question. He knew he could travel all around the world observing and contemplating everything around him. He understood that it would all be new to him, that he would be seeing and thinking about each thing for the first time, but on some level, it seemed like he would really be thinking about the same thing - at least the same kinds of things. No matter what he turned his attention toward he would be thinking about basically the same category of things. He would always be thinking about some object...some physical thing.

 

After ruminating on this for some time, James found he could only reply to the question presented in one way. "Nothing."

 

His thoughts were suddenly very wise indeed. "Oh, you have already thought about nothing," they reminded him. It was true. In fact, it was only from the standpoint of nothing that everything had started to make sense to James.

 

"Okay," conceded James, "then there are some things out there I haven't yet thought about." He gazed way off into the distance toward the horizon.

 

"True," said a thought in his head, "but you have thought quite a bit about something also. You've always been thinking about something, haven't you?"

 

Surprisingly, James found himself becoming somewhat annoyed by this exchange.

 

"What else is there?" he demanded. "I've thought about nothing and I've thought about something. What more can I think about?"

 

"Everything."

 

James stood stunned by this as an enormous wave of heat and joy filled him, exploding inside of him and shooting throughout his entire body. It was so much that he felt momentarily dizzy; he knew his whole face had become flushed, but he didn't care. A wide gaping grin stretched from ear to ear and he felt he could hardly contain himself.

 

"I'm supposed to think about everything?" he half-questioned himself in amazement.

 

"I'm supposed to think about Everything." This time he said it with a little more force.

 

"I am supposed to think about EVERYTHING!" he shouted.

 

He wanted to dance and sing. He had no words but he wanted to erupt into a boisterous song. For lack of anything else to do he began a crude dance of joy around the tree. He pumped his hands in front of him. He shook his head. He shifted his weight from side to side and jumped from foot to foot.

 

"I'm a-gonna think 'bout Everything," he began to chant in a childish manner. "I'm a-gonna think 'bout Everything."

 

He wasn't sure why, but James knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had finally found the proper object of his wonderful ability to think. He had been so close to it all along.

 

"How did I not see it before?" he wondered.

 

His true purpose wasn't to think about something. Far from it! He wasn't intended to think about nothing. He could leave that task for others!

 

James was meant to think about Everything.

 

As James began to now fulfill his purpose, as he began to think about Everything, as he began to inquire of Everything, to explore and contemplate Everything, he also began to form a wonderful relationship with Everything. He found that Everything was kind and generous. Everything was wise and good-natured. Everything was always ready to help, always sensitive to what James was feeling.

 

Everything always understood.

 

Everything was also very much like him. Everything was a thinker...quite surely the grandest thinker of all! He admired Everything, revered Everything, and wanted to be like Everything.

 

Everything was, in fact, the very best friend James could ever hope for.

 

And James quickly discovered the most amazing thing of all.

 

When he thought about Everything...Everything thought about him also.

 

James and Everything were in complete agreement. "Thinking by myself is good, but sharing my thoughts with someone else is even better!"

 

To his delight, Everything came directly inside of James' mind, where He could see his thoughts firsthand, and actually became part of his thinking itself. How wonderfully intimate this became!

 

Thinking about another Person made James very content and happy.

 

Everything seemed like an old friend that James had somehow forgotten. Sometimes James found himself thinking, "I wish Everything had spoken up and gotten my attention sooner."

 

When he thought this, Everything would replay memories in his mind "Having someone think about me felt wonderful, but having someone stop thinking about me and forget me feels horrible. Even if I could make Joanna think about me again though, it wouldn't be the same. She'd have to want to think about me of her own free will. Otherwise, what would be the point?"

 

James understood.

 

"You know that I want to think about you," he assured Everything needlessly.

 

He didn't have to worry that Everything would eventually leave him, like Joanna had.

 

"Where could I go that you would not be there, dear Everything?" he cooed.

 

He didn't have to worry that Everything would someday stop thinking about him.

 

"Everything thinks about everyone at once!" he babbled delightfully. "Everything will never stop thinking about me"

 

His thoughts about Everything never faded or became lack-luster. They never ceased to be vibrant or became lifeless and dead.

 

"The more you think about me," said Everything, "the more you will see that I will always be very much alive." To his delight James found this worked in reverse as well. As Everything thought about James in return, James also became more and more alive. He too would never become lifeless or dead.

 

James would tell people about this and occasionally people would try to discourage him. "In time you will surely die," they would say. "All things must come to an end."

 

"I couldn't agree more," he would wisely reply, confusing them. "All things perhaps, but not Everything. That's why I recommend you get out of there as soon as possible!" If he really liked the person he would sometimes add, "Time flies when you're having fun...and if you have enough fun it flies away completely and is gone!"

 

Some understood; others did not.

 

James' mission would never end. He would never be done thinking about Everything. There would always be more to discover, more to inspect and interpret, more to understand. He would never finish thinking about Everything.

 

"I will never again have to search for something new to thing about!" he was happy to report.

 

Everything was the perfect companion for James, the perfect source of stimulation and material for James to contemplate. In thinking about Everything, James found complete fulfillment. In thinking about Everything, James perfectly manifested his purpose, his very reason for existing. His infinite need to think was connected for the first time to an infinite subject.

 

But there was more than that! Everything was happy to help James devote his time to his purpose. As such, Everything agreed to take care of all of James' affairs so James could be left completely free to do nothing but think.

 

"Just think about me," said Everything softly to him, "and I'll make sure you have everything you need, a place to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear. You don't need to worry about any of that anymore. I've got you covered."

 

And James did precisely that because he knew he could trust what Everything told him. After all, all things were part of Everything, to do with as he pleased.

 

And so the rest of James' long and fruitful life was spent in contemplation of his wonderful friend Everything. To those around James he always appeared to be doing quite a lot, quite a bit of the time, but, in fact, he did very little. All he ever did was think about Everything. It was Everything who in turn did a lot in James' life. Everything brought James a wife and gave him children. Everything gave James a career, kept him protected from harm, and went out of his way to make sure James was healthy and happy.

 

James spent many years thinking about Everything, during which he never had to worry about anything at all.

 

"Why worry?" he would ask his many friends with a knowing smile. "Whether you need something still, or want nothing now, Everything is still the key. Everything takes care of...everything."

 

One morning, many years later, James awoke very early, well before the sun had arisen, and getting out of bed he made his way outside into the crisp night air. In a determined fashion he scaled the side of his house, agilely climbing a wooden trellis designed for vines. Once he was firmly planted on the roof, he looked into the crystal clear night sky and, raising his hands to the heavens, cried aloud for all to hear.

 

"Fellow thinkers, awake!" James bellowed at the sleeping world around him. "Yes, something is definitely not right anymore and, true, nothing seems to help but, thankfully, Everything will surely come out for your good! Arise, join me, for truly, Everything awaits. Think what you may, world, but I, for one, will think about my beloved Everything!"

 

Some understood; others did not.