“The coal that has been hauled out in some mining district has not been produced in order that it may simply be at hand somewhere or other. It is being stored; that is, it is on call, ready to deliver the sun’s warmth that is stored in it.”
-Martin Heidegger, “The Question Concerning Technology”
Poof, a photon of life birthed from the fusion of two hydrogen atoms begins a journey. Birthed in a not-so-hospitable environment, the core of the sun, it lives in a soup of chaos. Quickly, the photon’s energy inspires other reactions. Traveling slowly through the dense composition of the sun, the photons accumulate into dense packets of energy. Breaking the surface of the sun, the original photon finds itself surrounded by millions of other photons and chooses the name Sparky.
After passing the surface of the sun, things change drastically. Some solar flares extend past the surface, but the space remains otherwise uneventful. The cluster of photons speed into the nothing-ness of surrounding space at an incredible 299,792 m/s.
The photons spread out quickly. This leaves Sparky feeling isolated. This sense of isolation grows as Sparky finds more distance between himself and the sun. Noticing that the original cluster has spread too thin for companionship, Sparky focuses his attention elsewhere. Using loosely defined directions of navigation, Sparky observes nothingness to the left, right, up, down. The sun, to Sparky’s backward, diminishes in intensity. Without much time to understand much about anything, Sparky notices an enlarging structure to his forward—toward a planet called Earth. From an observer on Earth, it will take Sparky eight minutes and twenty seconds to enter the system. From Sparky’s perspective… it’s a bit more complicated.
Seeing something far off to the forward, Sparky quickly attempts to understand his understanding of direction. Sparky begins with building an understanding of where he came from, backward. Stretching from the place of origin, Sparky understands that it will not be returning along that exact path. Why? Because that is the way it is. By understanding where it came from, Sparky derives the direction he heads, forward. He does not know where forward is, only that forwardis not backward. Sparky feels content with his understanding of forward and backward and looks for additional understandings.
Sparky thinks to himself…
“What if I call backward, was, and forward, will be. What do I mean by that? And what space exists that allows for the understanding of backward as was and forward as will be? How can backward be was and forward be will be. Where exactly is this was and where exactly is this will be? If “it” is and “was” was was and “will be” will be will be, where do they exist such that I can question them by? They must be somewhere else, such that I am able to question them. Or am I simply imagining a direction out of my here? Also, what do I mean by I…… Oofff”
While lost in thought, the Earth’s atmosphere approaches to Sparky’s forward. The photon collides with it—halting any pondering of the ideas of is, was, and will be. It’s much easier to ponder thought when things are boring. By colliding with the dot, the photon enters it. And by entering it, the photon joins an incredible system, the Earth.
Sparky flies across the sky and lands somewhere in the Wyoming region of the United States of America. A giant plant named Frances absorbs sparky. The giant plant converts the photon into energy for it to grow. This marks the beginning of a relationship between Frances and Sparky. For Sparky, this conversion is unsettling. This is understandable. Travelling through space and then suddenly switching to travelling through the process of photosynthesis would unsettle anybody. In this rapid change, Sparky begins to think that his journey will sprout quite a few questions; the combined perspective of plant life shatters Sparky’s solipsistic understanding of existence.
Sparky and Frances spend many years together, soaking up rays of sun and observing the landscape around them—long rolling hills and great plains. Since Frances lives a stationary life, they do not adventure. Sparky, previously living a life full of adventure, struggles with adapting to this sedentary lifestyle. Sparky thinks that he will never understand more about the questions of wasand will be without movement and settles in the understanding that he will have to wait.
“So, you just stay here? You do not move?” Sparky asks Francis one day.
“What do you mean by moving?” Francis asks Sparky.
“Good question. I am not sure. It’s a feeling, I guess, of uncertainty… and excitement. Changing orientation and experiencing new surroundings.”
“I remember my days of fast change, breaking ground as a young sapling. Those were uncertain days. Exciting too. Could that be moving?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“This does not interest you?” Sparks asks dumbfounded.
“No no, it interests me greatly. It’s just that I do not understand your questions. I do not understand what is at stake.”
“WHAT IS AT STAKE? Everything is at stake!” Sparky exclaims. “What is was, what is will be? That is what is at stake.”.
Due to its largely sedentary lifestyle, Frances understood what it was and what is will be a long time ago. To Frances, he was smaller and is now larger. If trends continue, he expects he will be even larger. For its sedentary lifestyle, what was and what will be differ by small degrees. Through Frances’ perspective, he could not understand anything else besides sprout, grow, and grow. Frances had not accumulated as much distance as Sparky had which reduced his possibilities for understanding. His roots provide the nourishment necessary for gaining knowledge—plant knowledge. Staying rooted in the ground gives Frances the best chance of survival. Sprout somewhere that can support life and grow, that is the plant’s life motto—much different than that of a photon. This may sound sad, but take solace in the fact that, for Frances, nothing else can exist. So, physically and biologically limited, Frances does what he can to the best of his ability; following, he knows as much as he can possibly know from what his form permits him to know. Imagine the clash of perspectives between the photon and the plant, mixing a lifestyle of fast-travel high-energy wave-particle duality and sedentary vegetation. Crazy stuff.
“So, there is this thing, let’s call it the sun. It is hot. It is bright. And tons of ME’s manifest into existence every moment,” Sparky explains to Frances.
“What do you mean manifest?”
“Appear-random-brilliant. I am not sure. It seems like the right word to describe what I am thinking. I do not remember anything before my poof. Then, suddenly, I started travelling. A random transfer of energy.”
“Well, I appreciate your energy.”
“Thanks. And I appreciate you catching my energy.”
“Maybe you were determined to go this way. Is it possible that my sprouting willed your chance into existence?” Frances asked gleaming.
“I have had crazier ideas,” Sparky replies.
Frances and Sparky continue exchanging stories.
Sparky tells Frances the story of travelling through space and approaching the giant floating ball. Frances told Sparky the story of germinating and breaking through darkness into light. Sparky did not understand what Frances meant by darkness. Francis did not understand what Sparky meant by travelling. Sparky enjoyed Frances’ company and learning of their interdependence and woven life paths.
One day, Frances informs Sparky, “I think I am dying.”
“What do you mean? What is this death you speak of?”
“Hmm, that is an excellent question. Let me think about it and I will answer.” Frances contemplated death for four days, then revealed his answer.
“I mean that the story of my existence is coming to an end,” Frances explains. “I am going somewhere, but it will not be me that arrives there. I know that I am here and cannot be anywhere but here. And in death, I will not be.”
“Woah,” Sparky relieves. “Will I experience death?”
“Not sure. I am just a plant.”
“We are the plant!” Sparky exclaims.
“What do you think will happen to you?” Frances asks Sparky.
“I have not thought about it.”
Sparky thought for five days about what will happen to it when Frances dies. “I have thought about it.”
“And?”
“I think I have already undergone a death.”
“What do you mean? You are still here. How could you
possibly have undergone a death?”
“Yes. But my here is different from where I was. Where I was, I no longer am. And what I was is no longer here. The story of me travelling from the sun ended with you absorbing me. Death.”
“Hmm, interesting. Do you think we can call the time we spend in our stories a life?” “I think that is an adequate name,” replies Sparky.
“And now that I think about it, I had a life prior to this, I was a seed. As a seed, I was very different than what I am now. My experiences and understandings before are not much comparable to what I am now. Perhaps I have undergone a death.”
“Perhaps you have.”
Frances completed its life and began a decay process. As a large fern, it was destined to spend hundreds of millions of years decaying toward the form of coal. Frances accepted death. It had no choice. With Frances’ death, Sparky’s energy released into a new form. Now, Sparky rested, covered in dirt. Alone. The energy that Sparky birthed into the world continued in its lengthy journey. With ample time, Sparky began thinking.
He started with the most significant part of his life. Sparky’s relationship with the plant left it with nostalgia. Sparky and Francis spent significant time discussing their perspectives. They had become one. Frances used the photon’s energy to learn about the universe. Before meeting Sparky, Frances had no idea he was on an “Earth.” Frances also learned that, behind the deep blue sky, there existed essentially nothing. The specks of light he had observed at night represented distant worlds where another Frances’ were almost certain to exist. This knowledge, Frances could not have learned by himself. Sparky too learned many things he could not have learned by himself.
Knowing how he impacted Frances’ life, and how Frances impacted his life, he turned to reflect on his initial feelings when meeting the plant—feeling his initial apprehensiveness to ending his exit from the sun by fusing with the existence of a mere plant. The nostalgia he felt could only be explained by a jealousy for his previous self—an acute understanding of how enjoyable his time was with an inability to grasp that in the moment. Now, Sparky was isolated and surrounded by dirt.
“Hello?” Sparky let out.
Nothing returned. The soil muted Sparky’s cry with a low, short, thump. Years passed with little movement. More years passed and still nothing. Sparky felt a new feeling, worry—fear. How long will this last? Will I ever meet anyone again? In this time, he developed greater respect for Frances and upon noticing his continued return to observation-reflection, observation-reflection. Sparky reflected on how his experience circulated.
All this time, I have accumulated quite an odd sense of time. I still cannot understand what is backward and what is forward. Buried in dirt, both look the same. Even in varied experience, I cannot feel a difference between the two. In fact, I never truly feel the two? What do I mean by that? Good question Sparky. Oh, are you talking to yourself now? Great. It seems we have reached that point. What point? Never mind… focus.
The ground shifted.
I cannot feel the past or future. But I know they exist. Right? They exist insofar as I exist. But do I exist… oooff, I will come back to that. I will start with the past, that is easier to handle, I think. I am here, arrived from the past. But what is here? Even as I think about here, here changes. To what? TO MORE HERE. IT IS ALWAYS HERE. And never not here. So, there is simply not here? My head hurts.
Moisture trickled into the deep soil. Rainy season.
I can link my experience of being part of Frances with now being in the ground. Sparky thought to himself.
But I do not understand when the past became now? When exactly does that happen? In the same moment I am here? So, the past continually transfers into the present? Like a repetitious….
“THAT’S IT. IT’S RECURRING!” Sparky cried out. But nothing heard him. “The past may be was; but was is never here. There must be some distinction between here and there otherwise everywhere would be here! I am always here. Yes, here always repeating never really going anywhere. But I can go there, by changing my here?”
Before Sparky could continue his thoughts, a loud crash broke through the soil and suddenly swept him into the air. The light showed Sparky’s new form. He saw that he was not a plant anymore. Sparky noticed that there were many more that looked like him. The disturbed surface caused the dirt around to break into thousands of lumps, which immediately started communicating amongst themselves.
“It’s happening! Ooooooo.” Cried a feminine voice.
“What is happening?” Sparky replied.
“IT.”
“Okay.”
“You do not know what IT is, do you?
“No.”
“Well neither do I! But they have talked about it for quite a long time.”
“Who are they?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions.¨
“I am curious.”
“You are,” replied the voice, “I think it is my turn to ask a question.”
“Alright.”
“I will ask an easy question. What is your name?”
“Sparky.”
“It’s nice to meet you Sparky. My name is Carrela,” Carrela replied.
“What are you? You’re so dark, and black. And definitely not a plant.”
“So dark? Is that always how you lead in?”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. I am coal, like you. We have tons of energy stored up in us from hundreds of millions of years of decomposition and we are now starting an exciting process!!”
“What will happen in this process? How do you know all this?”
“I read.”
“Okay. Did this reading help you understand the process?”
“Not really, reading can only tell you about before, and sometimes after… but not really. No one has ever come back from the process. The process is IT. And I have never been through IT. But I have read stories about IT, guesses about it.”
“It seems that reading is not all that useful,” Sparky replied.
“You do not get the point.”
“Will it hurt?” Sparky asked.
“Maybe…”
“I do not know if I am ready for IT.,” said Sparky.
“I do not think you have a choice, Sparky.”
The large machine that broke through the surface was called an excavator. But there would have been no way for Sparky to know that. Sparky, though well-travelled, knew only what his experience would allow him to. He knew about space, the Earth, plant-life, and soil-life. Despite the slight fear that accompanies most change, Sparky felt overall calm. He had undergone many transformations already and did not worry much for what the future might hold. Undergoing his transformation with Frances, and again when Frances died, he realized that whatever life will be is too unpredictable to cling to a single idea, or clump of habits, so instead he worked to feel the change.
The machine lifted Sparky and Carrela into the air. They rose above the dirt into a sunny day—no breeze, hot, and stuffy. The stuffiness in the air did not compare to the stuffiness of spending 147,172,182.4587 years buried in the dirt. Sparky and Carrela appreciated the change in scenery—observing still clouds and whistling birds. The machine dropped the coals into a dump truck which carted Sparky and Carrela toward an unknown land.
Gleaming with excitement, Sparky and Carrela spoke exhaustingly about the differences between the dirt and the sun, being surrounded by moist dirt versus the seeming freedom air provided. They discussed the feelings of being covered and the comfort that provided. They sipped the freedom of air with alacrity. And soon, they grew drunk with freedom, unsure of where or what they could do.
“Sparky. I have spent long days surrounded by dirt—covered in all directions. In that time, I had nothing to compare myself to. I laid dormant, clouded in darkness. I look outward and know there is more, I can hear it, I feel the motion! We can be so much, seemingly everything, do you think we can do everything?” asked Carrela.
“Doubtful.”
“Doubtful!?”
“Yes. Doubtful. I feel this too. I am dizzy. If I could pick anything, I would pick dirt. But I cannot pick and therefore must push onward. There is no more surrendering protection like that of the dirt. That is behind us.”
“How could you want to go back?!”
“How could you not? I could spend an eternity talking about the feeling of the breeze alone. Then I could spend a second eternity talking about the clouds. A third talking about the dirt! With each sensation that passes, I have infinitely more to talk about! But quickly, I lose the moments, blended together, hiding the meaning in a sea of facsimile information. I wish I could go back.”
“Yikes, that’s a little sad, don’t you think.”
“A bit yes. But only if I give up.”
“Give up on what?”
“Experiencing IT! Telling about IT! Making IT something! But my IT is limited. I already know IT but only in reflection, drowning in the IT of the present. But I can listen to your IT. And be there in your IT while here in my IT. And that is marvelous. So can I please drown in yours?”
“How?”
“Tell me a story.”
Carrela told Sparky at length of her journey. She, like Sparky, spent a portion of her journey with a plant. Their experience differed when Carrela and her plant were eaten by a small dinosaur. She told Sparky of the violent change, the crushing power of the teeth, and corrosive power of the dinosaur’s digestive enzymes. She explained to Sparky her fear, that that had been the end—that she would cease to exist. But instead, as Sparky had also learned, she transformed into part of the dinosaur, forming an indiscernible part of the creature’s being.
“We had a lovely time, Tim and I,” Carrela explained. “We would start our days early and walk endlessly, drinking water and consuming leaves. We would consume entire trees, reaching our long neck into the canopies and munching for hours. After feeding, we washed down the mighty meal with water from the stream and then rested in the sun. If it stormed, we retreated into the hills, under tree cover. With our great height, we could see forever, scouring for the tastiest trees and warmest patches of grass. When we walked, we lumbered along, unrushed, but not wandering either. One day, we met a lady dinosaur and mated.
Sparky paused and retreated into his thoughts for some moments.
“Anyway, my time with Tim ended quite peacefully. When death called for Tim, we sought our favorite patch of grass and began decomposing. Almost right next to you and Frances I believe!”
“I wish I could have been a dinosaur,” Sparky moped.
“It was spectacular.”
Sparky and Carrela continued exchanging stories, ideas, and dreams. They talked of their origins at the sun. They originated in different points in time. Carrela was a few millennia older than Sparky. While they talked, the truck unloaded them onto a conveyor, which sent them to a processor and refined the lumps of coal toward usable fuel. Leaving the refinery, they were loaded onto a boat, and spent a week travelling as such. Many transitions later, they sat in storage, waiting, on-call, to unleash their energy for work.
Sparky and Carrela waited in company and made quick friends with the other coal around them: Harris, Alexandra, Elenore, and Frankie. They exchanged stories. Each lump of coal had a different story. Harris spent significant time in the bottom of the ocean before making his way up the food chain into a bird. He travelled the skies and was eventually struck by lightning which landed him around the other coals. Alexandra, entered the Earth and melted some ice in the artic, eventually finding her way to the decomposition community through precipitation cycles. Elenore almost missed Earth entirely and endured a wild ride ricocheting between the atmosphere and the Earth’s surface. Eventually, she was absorbed by a plant near Sparky and shared a similar process. Frankie, unfortunately, skipped most of the changing processes and was absorbed directly into the ground and thus the coal buried beneath.
During their time in storage, the lumps of coal realized that they developed different understandings based on their paths. Due to their wildly different paths, each had a different way of being. By sharing their experiences, the lumps of coal understood their own journeys better through each other. They also understood how lose their conceptions of their journeys had been and took solace in understanding that no one could possibly have had a “right” experience.
Knowing that something would come next, unsure of what exactly but knowing that change is the only constant, the lumps of coal enjoyed themselves in attempting to predict what will be.
The coals were loaded onto a conveyor belt and travelled through walls toward a sensation of heat with growing intensity. They were headed toward a furnace. Their excitement grew with the intensity of the flames. It reminded them of the heat the sun produced. This reminiscent memory fueled their excitement even more. One by one, they fell into the furnace beginning again a process of transformation. Once they passed the threshold, they whizzed through the process of energy conv
The Life of a Photon
Christopher J Munson
bunchofbabel.com
“The coal that has been hauled out in some mining district has not been produced in order that it may simply be at hand somewhere or other. It is being stored; that is, it is on call, ready to deliver the sun’s warmth that is stored in it.”
-Martin Heidegger, “The Question Concerning Technology”
Poof, a photon of life birthed from the fusion of two hydrogen atoms begins a journey. Birthed in a not-so-hospitable environment, the core of the sun, it lives in a soup of chaos. Quickly, the photon’s energy inspires other reactions. Traveling slowly through the dense composition of the sun, the photons accumulate into dense packets of energy. Breaking the surface of the sun, the original photon finds itself surrounded by millions of other photons and chooses the name Sparky.
After passing the surface of the sun, things change drastically. Some solar flares extend past the surface, but the space remains otherwise uneventful. The cluster of photons speed into the nothing-ness of surrounding space at an incredible 299,792 m/s.
The photons spread out quickly. This leaves Sparky feeling isolated. This sense of isolation grows as Sparky finds more distance between himself and the sun. Noticing that the original cluster has spread too thin for companionship, Sparky focuses his attention elsewhere. Using loosely defined directions of navigation, Sparky observes nothingness to the left, right, up, down. The sun, to Sparky’s backward, diminishes in intensity. Without much time to understand much about anything, Sparky notices an enlarging structure to his forward—toward a planet called Earth. From an observer on Earth, it will take Sparky eight minutes and twenty seconds to enter the system. From Sparky’s perspective… it’s a bit more complicated.
Seeing something far off to the forward, Sparky quickly attempts to understand his understanding of direction. Sparky begins with building an understanding of where he came from, backward. Stretching from the place of origin, Sparky understands that it will not be returning along that exact path. Why? Because that is the way it is. By understanding where it came from, Sparky derives the direction he heads, forward. He does not know where forward is, only that forwardis not backward. Sparky feels content with his understanding of forward and backward and looks for additional understandings.
Sparky thinks to himself…
“What if I call backward, was, and forward, will be. What do I mean by that? And what space exists that allows for the understanding of backward as was and forward as will be? How can backward be was and forward be will be. Where exactly is this was and where exactly is this will be? If “it” is and “was” was was and “will be” will be will be, where do they exist such that I can question them by? They must be somewhere else, such that I am able to question them. Or am I simply imagining a direction out of my here? Also, what do I mean by I…… Oofff”
While lost in thought, the Earth’s atmosphere approaches to Sparky’s forward. The photon collides with it—halting any pondering of the ideas of is, was, and will be. It’s much easier to ponder thought when things are boring. By colliding with the dot, the photon enters it. And by entering it, the photon joins an incredible system, the Earth.
Sparky flies across the sky and lands somewhere in the Wyoming region of the United States of America. A giant plant named Frances absorbs sparky. The giant plant converts the photon into energy for it to grow. This marks the beginning of a relationship between Frances and Sparky. For Sparky, this conversion is unsettling. This is understandable. Travelling through space and then suddenly switching to travelling through the process of photosynthesis would unsettle anybody. In this rapid change, Sparky begins to think that his journey will sprout quite a few questions; the combined perspective of plant life shatters Sparky’s solipsistic understanding of existence.
Sparky and Frances spend many years together, soaking up rays of sun and observing the landscape around them—long rolling hills and great plains. Since Frances lives a stationary life, they do not adventure. Sparky, previously living a life full of adventure, struggles with adapting to this sedentary lifestyle. Sparky thinks that he will never understand more about the questions of wasand will be without movement and settles in the understanding that he will have to wait.
“So, you just stay here? You do not move?” Sparky asks Francis one day.
“What do you mean by moving?” Francis asks Sparky.
“Good question. I am not sure. It’s a feeling, I guess, of uncertainty… and excitement. Changing orientation and experiencing new surroundings.”
“I remember my days of fast change, breaking ground as a young sapling. Those were uncertain days. Exciting too. Could that be moving?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“This does not interest you?” Sparks asks dumbfounded.
“No no, it interests me greatly. It’s just that I do not understand your questions. I do not understand what is at stake.”
“WHAT IS AT STAKE? Everything is at stake!” Sparky exclaims. “What is was, what is will be? That is what is at stake.”.
Due to its largely sedentary lifestyle, Frances understood what it was and what is will be a long time ago. To Frances, he was smaller and is now larger. If trends continue, he expects he will be even larger. For its sedentary lifestyle, what was and what will be differ by small degrees. Through Frances’ perspective, he could not understand anything else besides sprout, grow, and grow. Frances had not accumulated as much distance as Sparky had which reduced his possibilities for understanding. His roots provide the nourishment necessary for gaining knowledge—plant knowledge. Staying rooted in the ground gives Frances the best chance of survival. Sprout somewhere that can support life and grow, that is the plant’s life motto—much different than that of a photon. This may sound sad, but take solace in the fact that, for Frances, nothing else can exist. So, physically and biologically limited, Frances does what he can to the best of his ability; following, he knows as much as he can possibly know from what his form permits him to know. Imagine the clash of perspectives between the photon and the plant, mixing a lifestyle of fast-travel high-energy wave-particle duality and sedentary vegetation. Crazy stuff.
“So, there is this thing, let’s call it the sun. It is hot. It is bright. And tons of ME’s manifest into existence every moment,” Sparky explains to Frances.
“What do you mean manifest?”
“Appear-random-brilliant. I am not sure. It seems like the right word to describe what I am thinking. I do not remember anything before my poof. Then, suddenly, I started travelling. A random transfer of energy.”
“Well, I appreciate your energy.”
“Thanks. And I appreciate you catching my energy.”
“Maybe you were determined to go this way. Is it possible that my sprouting willed your chance into existence?” Frances asked gleaming.
“I have had crazier ideas,” Sparky replies.
Frances and Sparky continue exchanging stories.
Sparky tells Frances the story of travelling through space and approaching the giant floating ball. Frances told Sparky the story of germinating and breaking through darkness into light. Sparky did not understand what Frances meant by darkness. Francis did not understand what Sparky meant by travelling. Sparky enjoyed Frances’ company and learning of their interdependence and woven life paths.
One day, Frances informs Sparky, “I think I am dying.”
“What do you mean? What is this death you speak of?”
“Hmm, that is an excellent question. Let me think about it and I will answer.” Frances contemplated death for four days, then revealed his answer.
“I mean that the story of my existence is coming to an end,” Frances explains. “I am going somewhere, but it will not be me that arrives there. I know that I am here and cannot be anywhere but here. And in death, I will not be.”
“Woah,” Sparky relieves. “Will I experience death?”
“Not sure. I am just a plant.”
“We are the plant!” Sparky exclaims.
“What do you think will happen to you?” Frances asks Sparky.
“I have not thought about it.”
Sparky thought for five days about what will happen to it when Frances dies. “I have thought about it.”
“And?”
“I think I have already undergone a death.”
“What do you mean? You are still here. How could you
possibly have undergone a death?”
“Yes. But my here is different from where I was. Where I was, I no longer am. And what I was is no longer here. The story of me travelling from the sun ended with you absorbing me. Death.”
“Hmm, interesting. Do you think we can call the time we spend in our stories a life?” “I think that is an adequate name,” replies Sparky.
“And now that I think about it, I had a life prior to this, I was a seed. As a seed, I was very different than what I am now. My experiences and understandings before are not much comparable to what I am now. Perhaps I have undergone a death.”
“Perhaps you have.”
Frances completed its life and began a decay process. As a large fern, it was destined to spend hundreds of millions of years decaying toward the form of coal. Frances accepted death. It had no choice. With Frances’ death, Sparky’s energy released into a new form. Now, Sparky rested, covered in dirt. Alone. The energy that Sparky birthed into the world continued in its lengthy journey. With ample time, Sparky began thinking.
He started with the most significant part of his life. Sparky’s relationship with the plant left it with nostalgia. Sparky and Francis spent significant time discussing their perspectives. They had become one. Frances used the photon’s energy to learn about the universe. Before meeting Sparky, Frances had no idea he was on an “Earth.” Frances also learned that, behind the deep blue sky, there existed essentially nothing. The specks of light he had observed at night represented distant worlds where another Frances’ were almost certain to exist. This knowledge, Frances could not have learned by himself. Sparky too learned many things he could not have learned by himself.
Knowing how he impacted Frances’ life, and how Frances impacted his life, he turned to reflect on his initial feelings when meeting the plant—feeling his initial apprehensiveness to ending his exit from the sun by fusing with the existence of a mere plant. The nostalgia he felt could only be explained by a jealousy for his previous self—an acute understanding of how enjoyable his time was with an inability to grasp that in the moment. Now, Sparky was isolated and surrounded by dirt.
“Hello?” Sparky let out.
Nothing returned. The soil muted Sparky’s cry with a low, short, thump. Years passed with little movement. More years passed and still nothing. Sparky felt a new feeling, worry—fear. How long will this last? Will I ever meet anyone again? In this time, he developed greater respect for Frances and upon noticing his continued return to observation-reflection, observation-reflection. Sparky reflected on how his experience circulated.
All this time, I have accumulated quite an odd sense of time. I still cannot understand what is backward and what is forward. Buried in dirt, both look the same. Even in varied experience, I cannot feel a difference between the two. In fact, I never truly feel the two? What do I mean by that? Good question Sparky. Oh, are you talking to yourself now? Great. It seems we have reached that point. What point? Never mind… focus.
The ground shifted.
I cannot feel the past or future. But I know they exist. Right? They exist insofar as I exist. But do I exist… oooff, I will come back to that. I will start with the past, that is easier to handle, I think. I am here, arrived from the past. But what is here? Even as I think about here, here changes. To what? TO MORE HERE. IT IS ALWAYS HERE. And never not here. So, there is simply not here? My head hurts.
Moisture trickled into the deep soil. Rainy season.
I can link my experience of being part of Frances with now being in the ground. Sparky thought to himself.
But I do not understand when the past became now? When exactly does that happen? In the same moment I am here? So, the past continually transfers into the present? Like a repetitious….
“THAT’S IT. IT’S RECURRING!” Sparky cried out. But nothing heard him. “The past may be was; but was is never here. There must be some distinction between here and there otherwise everywhere would be here! I am always here. Yes, here always repeating never really going anywhere. But I can go there, by changing my here?”
Before Sparky could continue his thoughts, a loud crash broke through the soil and suddenly swept him into the air. The light showed Sparky’s new form. He saw that he was not a plant anymore. Sparky noticed that there were many more that looked like him. The disturbed surface caused the dirt around to break into thousands of lumps, which immediately started communicating amongst themselves.
“It’s happening! Ooooooo.” Cried a feminine voice.
“What is happening?” Sparky replied.
“IT.”
“Okay.”
“You do not know what IT is, do you?
“No.”
“Well neither do I! But they have talked about it for quite a long time.”
“Who are they?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions.¨
“I am curious.”
“You are,” replied the voice, “I think it is my turn to ask a question.”
“Alright.”
“I will ask an easy question. What is your name?”
“Sparky.”
“It’s nice to meet you Sparky. My name is Carrela,” Carrela replied.
“What are you? You’re so dark, and black. And definitely not a plant.”
“So dark? Is that always how you lead in?”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. I am coal, like you. We have tons of energy stored up in us from hundreds of millions of years of decomposition and we are now starting an exciting process!!”
“What will happen in this process? How do you know all this?”
“I read.”
“Okay. Did this reading help you understand the process?”
“Not really, reading can only tell you about before, and sometimes after… but not really. No one has ever come back from the process. The process is IT. And I have never been through IT. But I have read stories about IT, guesses about it.”
“It seems that reading is not all that useful,” Sparky replied.
“You do not get the point.”
“Will it hurt?” Sparky asked.
“Maybe…”
“I do not know if I am ready for IT.,” said Sparky.
“I do not think you have a choice, Sparky.”
The large machine that broke through the surface was called an excavator. But there would have been no way for Sparky to know that. Sparky, though well-travelled, knew only what his experience would allow him to. He knew about space, the Earth, plant-life, and soil-life. Despite the slight fear that accompanies most change, Sparky felt overall calm. He had undergone many transformations already and did not worry much for what the future might hold. Undergoing his transformation with Frances, and again when Frances died, he realized that whatever life will be is too unpredictable to cling to a single idea, or clump of habits, so instead he worked to feel the change.
The machine lifted Sparky and Carrela into the air. They rose above the dirt into a sunny day—no breeze, hot, and stuffy. The stuffiness in the air did not compare to the stuffiness of spending 147,172,182.4587 years buried in the dirt. Sparky and Carrela appreciated the change in scenery—observing still clouds and whistling birds. The machine dropped the coals into a dump truck which carted Sparky and Carrela toward an unknown land.
Gleaming with excitement, Sparky and Carrela spoke exhaustingly about the differences between the dirt and the sun, being surrounded by moist dirt versus the seeming freedom air provided. They discussed the feelings of being covered and the comfort that provided. They sipped the freedom of air with alacrity. And soon, they grew drunk with freedom, unsure of where or what they could do.
“Sparky. I have spent long days surrounded by dirt—covered in all directions. In that time, I had nothing to compare myself to. I laid dormant, clouded in darkness. I look outward and know there is more, I can hear it, I feel the motion! We can be so much, seemingly everything, do you think we can do everything?” asked Carrela.
“Doubtful.”
“Doubtful!?”
“Yes. Doubtful. I feel this too. I am dizzy. If I could pick anything, I would pick dirt. But I cannot pick and therefore must push onward. There is no more surrendering protection like that of the dirt. That is behind us.”
“How could you want to go back?!”
“How could you not? I could spend an eternity talking about the feeling of the breeze alone. Then I could spend a second eternity talking about the clouds. A third talking about the dirt! With each sensation that passes, I have infinitely more to talk about! But quickly, I lose the moments, blended together, hiding the meaning in a sea of facsimile information. I wish I could go back.”
“Yikes, that’s a little sad, don’t you think.”
“A bit yes. But only if I give up.”
“Give up on what?”
“Experiencing IT! Telling about IT! Making IT something! But my IT is limited. I already know IT but only in reflection, drowning in the IT of the present. But I can listen to your IT. And be there in your IT while here in my IT. And that is marvelous. So can I please drown in yours?”
“How?”
“Tell me a story.”
Carrela told Sparky at length of her journey. She, like Sparky, spent a portion of her journey with a plant. Their experience differed when Carrela and her plant were eaten by a small dinosaur. She told Sparky of the violent change, the crushing power of the teeth, and corrosive power of the dinosaur’s digestive enzymes. She explained to Sparky her fear, that that had been the end—that she would cease to exist. But instead, as Sparky had also learned, she transformed into part of the dinosaur, forming an indiscernible part of the creature’s being.
“We had a lovely time, Tim and I,” Carrela explained. “We would start our days early and walk endlessly, drinking water and consuming leaves. We would consume entire trees, reaching our long neck into the canopies and munching for hours. After feeding, we washed down the mighty meal with water from the stream and then rested in the sun. If it stormed, we retreated into the hills, under tree cover. With our great height, we could see forever, scouring for the tastiest trees and warmest patches of grass. When we walked, we lumbered along, unrushed, but not wandering either. One day, we met a lady dinosaur and mated.
Sparky paused and retreated into his thoughts for some moments.
“Anyway, my time with Tim ended quite peacefully. When death called for Tim, we sought our favorite patch of grass and began decomposing. Almost right next to you and Frances I believe!”
“I wish I could have been a dinosaur,” Sparky moped.
“It was spectacular.”
Sparky and Carrela continued exchanging stories, ideas, and dreams. They talked of their origins at the sun. They originated in different points in time. Carrela was a few millennia older than Sparky. While they talked, the truck unloaded them onto a conveyor, which sent them to a processor and refined the lumps of coal toward usable fuel. Leaving the refinery, they were loaded onto a boat, and spent a week travelling as such. Many transitions later, they sat in storage, waiting, on-call, to unleash their energy for work.
Sparky and Carrela waited in company and made quick friends with the other coal around them: Harris, Alexandra, Elenore, and Frankie. They exchanged stories. Each lump of coal had a different story. Harris spent significant time in the bottom of the ocean before making his way up the food chain into a bird. He travelled the skies and was eventually struck by lightning which landed him around the other coals. Alexandra, entered the Earth and melted some ice in the artic, eventually finding her way to the decomposition community through precipitation cycles. Elenore almost missed Earth entirely and endured a wild ride ricocheting between the atmosphere and the Earth’s surface. Eventually, she was absorbed by a plant near Sparky and shared a similar process. Frankie, unfortunately, skipped most of the changing processes and was absorbed directly into the ground and thus the coal buried beneath.
During their time in storage, the lumps of coal realized that they developed different understandings based on their paths. Due to their wildly different paths, each had a different way of being. By sharing their experiences, the lumps of coal understood their own journeys better through each other. They also understood how lose their conceptions of their journeys had been and took solace in understanding that no one could possibly have had a “right” experience.
Knowing that something would come next, unsure of what exactly but knowing that change is the only constant, the lumps of coal enjoyed themselves in attempting to predict what will be.
The coals were loaded onto a conveyor belt and travelled through walls toward a sensation of heat with growing intensity. They were headed toward a furnace. Their excitement grew with the intensity of the flames. It reminded them of the heat the sun produced. This reminiscent memory fueled their excitement even more. One by one, they fell into the furnace beginning again a process of transformation. Once they passed the threshold, they whizzed through the process of energy conversion.
The sun’s energy that each coal stored went to boil water, which turned a turbine, which in turn rotated a shaft that created a voltage differential via the magnets that were attached to the rotating shaft. While this process is sequential, from energy stored within the coal’s perspective, this transformation happened instantaneously. Sparky sped through the conversion process: originating at the sun, merging with Frances, boiling water, turning a turbine, rotating a shaft, creating a voltage differential via the magnets, with that voltage differential powering the printing device which produced the words on this piece of paper that forms this exact thought.
ersion.
The sun’s energy that each coal stored went to boil water, which turned a turbine, which in turn rotated a shaft that created a voltage differential via the magnets that were attached to the rotating shaft. While this process is sequential, from energy stored within the coal’s perspective, this transformation happened instantaneously. Sparky sped through the conversion process: originating at the sun, merging with Frances, boiling water, turning a turbine, rotating a shaft, creating a voltage differential via the magnets, with that voltage differential powering screen that lights the contrast of these words.
