Box O' Truth
Hey all, this is Tony. Kari asked me to write a bit about a couple of the #50wordstories I have composed as my contribution to #the100dayproject. If you don’t know what I mean by #the100dayproject, maybe look at this or listen to “Get Lost… in The 100 Day Project” or “Sharing Creative Courage During COVID.”
My project is to imagine and create a story of no more than, and preferably exactly, 50 words. Why exactly, you ask? Because, well, who doesn’t like a little self-flagellation?
The stories are attempts to place a hope, belief, value or lament into a story arc and then post the story on my instagram and facebook page for all the world to see.
The stories in question are called “Box” and “Box 2, Electric Boogaloo.” Okay, I added the “Electric Boogaloo.” I was just checking to see if you were raised in the 80s.
Here are the stories:
Each story is 50 words and each one begins very similarly.
As I was imagining what came to be called “Box,” I wanted to write a story about the search for truth. I wanted to illustrate that any subjective grasp of big-T truth is much like trying to touch the stars from a field. It doesn’t matter if you are a spiritualist or a materialist. The spiritualist believes that big-T truth rests in the Divine and humans are very small beings with very small minds in comparison, so even our most “enlightened” understandings are really just baby talk. And the materialist believes that the universe is millions of years old, and presumably millions of years to come, so any since that we have arrived at some conceptual conclusion is like… inventing fire and saying, “Hummph, me learn everything to learn.”
Now, the main thing I wanted to point out is the folly of comparison… even its humor. Yes, one pilgrim stood upon a box and was maybe two feet closer to the stars, in much the same way that one might grasp a concept with more clarity than those around him (spiritual, political, scientific, literary, philosophical, etc..) However, what are two feet compared to fifteen light-years? And with that reality being as clear as the nose on my face, I am still so quick to pat myself on the back when I think I have grasped something better than a family member, neighbor or friend.
“Box” was a lament about the foolish comparisons that I make everyday. “Box 2” was a reframing of the same story. Instead of a story of comparison, it became a story of mutuality.
One great thing about mutuality is that it doesn’t require that everyone share my views or perspectives. Mutuality only requires that we care about the same questions. I for one, believe in God. I am pretty unapologetic about that. And there is no one I should love more than a died-in-the-wool atheist. The atheist should be my best friend. Why? We care about all the same questions: Why are we here? Where did we come from? What does it mean to be good? How do we derive truth and beauty?
So, those were two of my stories. If you were one of the 3 people to read all the way to the end of these ramblings, I hope you found them thought poking. And while your thoughts are being poked, I am going to rejoice that both of us are reaching together for the sky.
