A Lesson on Action

“What are you doing?” The Child’s voice was full of the echoes of many questions as she stood before the seated Elder. “Why are you just sitting there? Is it nap time for grown ups? Why are you sleeping under the Tree? Shouldn’t you be in bed, instead?” Child’s words had started to come faster after each other. Elder opened her eyes slowly, catching Child’s attention and stemming the flow, for now.

“What do you think I am doing, Child?” Elder remained sitting cross-legged under the ever growing canopy. Her back against the trunk, her legs against the exposed roots, Elder sat wrapped in a brown cloak that matched the dirt she sat on.

“I think you’re taking a nap.” Child crossed her little arms in a stance of triumph. She had caught Elder doing nothing, and doing said nothing out in the open for all to see. “And this isn’t the place to take naps. I get in trouble if I take a nap here.”

Elder smiled, confusing Child. “I wasn’t taking a nap, Child. I was listening to the Land. It looks like I’m asleep, but I was very much awake.”

“I’m going to be awake like you, Elder!” Child sat down next to Elder. She crossed her legs like Elder, but the exposed roots pushed uncomfortably against her. She tried to lean back against the Tree like Elder, but the Tree’s rough bark scratched Child, even though the layers of clothing. Frustrated, Child got up and stood before Elder again.

“The Tree won’t let me sit like you!” Child made little fists and stamped little feet in frustration.

“No, Child, it won’t. This Tree chooses who can sit with it.” Elder’s voice was calm and quiet, even after Child’s outburst.

“Tell Tree to let me sit with it!”, demanded Child. “I want to sit like you! I want to do something while doing nothing!”

Elder’s smile deepened. Child knew she had said something funny to grownups, but was even more upset that she did not understand what it could have been. Child was angry almost to the point of tears, but refused to let them come. If Child couldn’t have Tree’s company, then Child was going to hoard the tears instead.

“Why didn’t you say so, Child? You don’t have to sit with the Tree to do something while doing nothing.” Elder’s words confused Child. Elder chuckled, her light laughter making Child feel ashamed for nearly crying. “Would you like to do something while doing nothing, and do it in a way made just for you?”

At once Child’s frustration and anger left her. She clapped and laughed and said “Yes, please, Elder!” many times in succession.

“Go find a stick, Child. It should be longer than your hand, but shorter than your arm. Look all over in the places you are allowed to go, and find that stick. If anyone asks you, tell them I have asked you to find this stick. Go now, find it, return to me, and I will tell you what to do.” Elder ceased speaking and closed her eyes.

Child knew this meant Elder was done talking and quickly ran off to find a stick that was longer than her hand and shorter than her arm. Some others did ask what Child was doing, and why Child was looking so intently, but when Child explained Elder’s instructions, they all nodded sagely and pointed her to different piles of sticks.

At last, she found such a stick. It was the length of her elbow, and thick enough not to break in her hands. Excitedly she ran back to Elder. She watched Elder for a few minutes, sitting quietly against the Tree. She thought about poking Elder with the stick, but just as she started to raise it, Elder spoke, startling Child.

“Now that you have the stick,” continued Elder with her eyes closed, “go find a patch of dirt or sand. Something you can draw in with the stick. First, draw the biggest circle you can. It doesn’t have to be a perfect circle like the grownups draw. It just has to be the biggest circle you can make. Now, listen very carefully to the Not-Villagers around you. If a grownup tells you to draw something inside the circle, don’t draw it. If your heart tells you to draw something inside the circle, don’t draw it. But if a bird chirps at you, and you hear in the chirping a shape to draw, draw that shape. If a leaf falls on your foot, and you feel in the touch a shape to draw, draw that shape. Do you understand, Child?”

Child nodded at first. Then thought about it, and shook her head. “But I won’t be doing anything!”

Elder nodded. “Indeed. You will be doing nothing at first. But if you are patient, you will find you are doing something while doing nothing.” Elder took a deep breath, and seemed to withdraw from Child even further. Without speaking, Child knew that Elder was done talking.

Child went around until she found a patch of dirt that was good for drawing. She drew the largest circle she could and still be happy with the ways her circle was not a circle. At once, she felt in her heart many shapes to draw. Angrily, she pushed those shapes out of her mind. A grownup came to her, and suggested something to draw. Child told the grownup the Elder’s instructions, and apologized for not being able to draw what the grownup suggested. The grownup nodded and left Child in peace.

At first, Child guarded her circle very jealously. If the wind dropped leaves in the circle, Child would chase them out with her stick. A bird hopped into the circle to pick at an ant. Child chased the bird out as well. She started flicking the ants out of her circle, until one caught her attention. She watched the ant meander around the cleared space. To her, it was as if the ant was saying, “Follow me.”. She took her stick, and started tracing out the ant’s path. When the ant left the circle a time later, Child looked back at the drawing that had been made.

The drawing reminded her of the lines in the Elder’s hands, of the twisting of the clouds, of the hopping of birds, and the way water spreads out when spilled. In the ant’s path, she saw the echoes of growing leaves and wind blown dead leaves, of hair on a newborn baby’s head, and the hair in her father’s beard. She saw reflections of everything, written in the scribbling of nothing.

She looked back at the Elder, still seated under the ever growing Tree. The light shone in her face just the right way, to give her mind the illusion that the Elder and the Tree was the same thing. That Sleep and Wakefulness was the same, in the same way that Something and Nothing were the same. As quickly as the illusion of understanding came to her, it fled with the capriciousness of childhood.

Child turned back to her tracing of the ant’s path, and saw it meant nothing. And yet, she remembers it held the hint of something. She was confused, and considered asking Elder what it meant. Child then realized that if she does, Elder will probably send her on an even more confusing and nothing-doing task. Child walked away slowly, then started skipping as she found some other person to ask questions to.

Under the ever growing Tree, an ant crawled across the face of the Elder, and the Elder smiled.

(This post inspired by, and originally written for, Sunday Scribblings #304: “Action“. A week late. But I find it also fits today’s prompt, Sunday Scribblings #305: “Lesson“, as well. Writing this has been all sorts of weird, even for me.)