Sunday, June 11, 2006
If I could solve one mystery …
Wendy knew that Abbey didn’t get it. She couldn’t get it. She couldn’t see what Wendy and their grandmother knew to be true: There is a visible map of human connectivity … a visible map of human brain function. Wendy could see it, so could her grandmother Joan. For these past years as Wendy, 19, had come of age she and Joan had discussed these maps over countless hours together.
So when Joan passed away and left Abbey her wedding jewelry Abbey felt vindicated. All her baby sister got were cardboard boxes. A big nasty stack of cardboard boxes. Maybe Wendy wasn’t Joan’s favorite after all, Abbey thought.
Wendy knew that Abbey didn’t get it. Inside those boxes were generations of journals, not just Joan’s, but those of Joan’s mother and grandmother. They were all women who could see the map, but none had the opportunity that lie before Wendy.
All of them had gone to college. Wendy’s grandmother had been a researcher her whole life. Wendy’s great-grandmother had dared to teach science in a one-room schoolhouse at the turn of the last century. Before that Wendy’s great-great grandmother had been a nurse … a scientific woman in an age of hoop skirts and parasols. Each kept careful record of the energy they witnessed, trying to make sense of it all. What Wendy had that they didn’t was the promise of technology. At last, at last, her grandmother had once said, there will be a way to prove what we see! The ability to bring these energy fields into view for less gifted eyes. The ability to bring these fields into view in a way that proves they exist.
Wendy wiped her eyes and looked at her mother and sister as they packed Joan’s things. Each of them surrounded with the thick, fibrous aura of someone who has minimal connections. She remembered that long talk with Joan a few years back. She loved her son, Wendy’s father, dearly, of course, but had so longed for a daughter to whom she might pass her gift. As Abbey grew it was apparent she couldn’t see the energy people pass from one to the other, the very nature of our relationships, the reasons we bond with some and move on from others. By the time Wendy was about 12 and had, for the first time, experienced the sensation of touching one of these energy fields she saw, her grandmother had already talked with her about the gift. That muddy, streaked color is the only color any of them had ever touched. Normally the energy passed through you, but that brown-black smear was cold and slick. It’s because their barriers are so well fortified, Joan had told Wendy. They don’t let anyone in and they don’t let much out. It’s actually the absence of energy that we feel, Joan had said. There’s never been a desire to really connect, so no spark has energized the aura, its left resembling, perhaps, the primordial ooze from which all life came. No spark, no life.
Loading her boxes into her Honda Wendy rededicated herself to her studies. Couple more years of pre-med and then she could really begin to focus in on her field. She knew she had to keep up her journals and keep up her research and redouble her efforts to find the technology to harness these energies.
And it took Wendy the rest of her 93 years, but she proved it all … the previously inexplicable connections between body and soul were laid out like a roadmap for her eyes only ... until she met a handsome bio engineer. Together they set in motion the work that unlocked the mysteries and cured the diseases of the human mind.
Just out of curiosity, is this purely fictional or based somewhat on life?
Thankyou for a wonderful read.
I like this story and believe there are such connections-even though I don't "see" them-I do feel them.
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