Incredibleness

“For we do not think of all our brothers,

as we must, but only think of one…

We do not know why we think of them. 

We do not know why, when we think of them,

we feel of a sudden that the earth is good

and that it is not a burden to live.”

�"from Anthem, by Ayn Rand.

 

            I looked at the tree ahead of me and it was like the first tree I’ve ever seen in my life.  We were sitting on a bench outside a lecture hall.  It was about 5 o’clock on a Friday so there were barely any students or professors rushing around campus.  I looked over at him.  He was on the polar opposite end of the bench, but it felt like our fingers were locked- how did he do that?

            My focus went back to the first tree I ever saw.  I looked at the trunk and the peaks of its roots sticking out like icebergs in the grass.  I traveled up through and over the rigid bark and I pondered the paths of each branch and the lives of each leaf- their veins and their nutrients and their seasonal color.  I thought of how the orbit of the Earth and its position according to the sun, the heart of life, not only determined their color but also determined the color of hair dye or the color of thanksgiving or paint chips or smells or childhood memories.  I thought of how humans could take something so incredible and turn it into a scene or a vibe or a décor.

            The incredibleness is so often taken for granted.  The labels of hair color: “auburn red” or the scent of a candle: “spring leaves” surround us so often in our day to day, insignificant lives that they become a mode of communication which the foundation of is long forgotten.  Seasons become flavors, grass becomes lawn (the silent neighborhood bragging tool), and orbits sadly become hours.

            I looked back at the root.  I looked over at him.  God, he looked so beautiful.  I don’t know what he was wearing or how he was sitting.  I don’t know if he had a beard or hair or a hat.  I could only see his eyes, dressed in sincerity and cemented in something.  Something profound.  Something incredible.  He was in something alright.

            He had asked me, before I saw my first tree, in the middle of our conversation about he world, if I thought it was generally a good place or a bad place:  “Do you think it is a rewarding, heaven-like place to enjoy or a tough, hardening place of troubles that we have to endure?”

            I did not know what to say so I looked around me.  That’s when I saw the tree.  Before that moment, it seemed the world was empty.  It seemed it was just me and there was nothing but whiteness around me.  There will be nothing but blank whiteness until I answer his question.

            So I focused on my tree.  I thought of how long it took to grow and stand so sturdy and strong.  I thought of how long the grass took to grow.  Soon I was thinking of how all of it, including us and this stupid university, was floating in space.  I thought of how perfect the conditions must have been for this world to exist- how exact, how it all started from a jumble of mass, from pressure and chemicals and forces.  Just the right temperature- like Goldilocks.  Everything around us, everything in us: the landscape, the people, our feelings, our thoughts, our jobs, our languages, the buildings, the trees- it all emerged from blackness and a perfect perfect set of conditions.  Just a bunch of chemicals and reactions.

            I looked back at him, at his eyes so full and deep and I said, “Good- I think it’s a good place.”  I loved him.