The Space Between Has Gone Cold

Flying Eagle sat alone at the edge of his tribe’s encampment, deep in thought, considering all that had taken place in the last several years, abruptly distracted by a violent interaction between a coyote and a rabbit, the rabbit being on the receiving end of the violence. The distance between himself and the homicide was great, stirring up questions within himself about the purpose of life and if there truly was any difference between his own life and that of the rabbit.

He was far enough away from all the others in his tribe, merely watching them with curiosity, wondering what it was about him that made him so contrary to everyone else. “They all seemed to interact and connect so easily,” he thought. One could label it a type of jealousy that he felt but like the eagle that soars in the sky cannot swim in the river like the salmon, and the rabbit that runs from place to place cannot fly among the clouds, he knew that this common and simple interaction was not something that he would ever accomplish.

From the moment he began to speak, his father, mother, and extended family knew that he was different and would most likely take over the role of shaman when their current shaman passed away. Flying Eagle then spent the next twenty years of his life with the shaman, Lumbering Buffalo, finding a connection and learning the details of reading nature, understanding the smallest hints and obscure facts that most everyone else simply did not see.

It was in his tenth year of life that he heard about the birth of a female in his tribe that seemed to possess the same attributes as he and Lumbering Buffalo, which stirred within him the desire to find her, wait for at least fifteen years, and hopefully make a connection that would secure for him a spouse of like mind and like soul. The next ten years passed by agonizingly slow as he waited for her to mature, but befriending her all along, happily finding the connection he so deeply desired.

Though it was unheard of for a shaman to take a spouse, as their role within the tribe was to be the point of spiritual connection and wisdom between his people and the spirit world. He knew and understood that his role was to become the next shaman, he also knew that he could not thrive and flourish without someone to love, to embrace, and with whom to connect.

He clearly remembered the year that Fluttering Grouse became a woman, but he also knew that she needed at least three or four years to embrace that change and learn the ways and responsibilities of a female member of the tribe. From that moment forward, he spent as much time with her as he could, dropping subtle hints, making references to future plans, and their similarity, creating a bond with her that neither he nor she had with anyone else.

As the day approached, Flying Eagle counted down the days, and on the afternoon of her eighteenth birthday, he and she slipped away into the vast open prairies, free of all distraction and others, to pose the question of marriage, eventually convincing her that they had grown so close and were so much alike that the spirit world unarguably intended for them to be together. With an excited squeal, she vigorously embraced him for a gloriously long period of time, to then take his hand and lead them together to find her parents and make the announcement a matter of public knowledge.

Within the year, Fluttering Grouse carried the beginnings of their first child. They now lived together in their own tent, at the far edge of the encampment, a typical location for the shaman, allowing for freedom from distraction and ease of visitation for those who were seeking wisdom and guidance. He watched her grow larger as the months passed by, thrilled at the prospect of seeing the fruit of their union, and knowing as well that she greatly desired to have many offspring. He wondered if one of them would become the next in line as shaman after he, which would not be surprising but was definitely unusual, as shaman typically did not marry or reproduce.

Several years passed, then several decades and he watched as his household continued to grow, becoming by far the largest home in the known history of the tribe. A dark cloud of despair began to hang over him and fill his heart, as he watched Fluttering Grouse become distracted by a variety of other details of tribal life, spending more time with others, rather than he and their children, a sad and sorry decline that he knew he needed to address but had no idea how to proceed or find a resolution.

Over the years their household grew smaller and smaller, as their children matured and started their own lives of adulthood. His pride could not be any greater as he watched his children become talented, wise, and productive adults, contributing to the success of the tribe. As he sat in his tent alone, on that one fateful day, the flap suddenly flipped open to reveal the chief and a young woman, motioning for him to join them outside. He rose from his seated position and began a long walk with them into the open prairie, to learn that the young woman had received a vision but did not understand its meaning. He carefully listened to her describe what she had seen and began asking questions to fully understand the scope and depth of it all.

When they reached a great distance away from the encampment, they stopped and he began his explanation to them both, revealing that her vision had to do with a major change in her life and the young man who would take her hand in marriage, leading them away to begin a new tribe at the edge of a forest, a new life unlike that of living on the prairie. The three of them walked back in silence and as he approached his tent, a moderate size rock struck him on the side of his head.

As he scanned over the area, he saw Fluttering Grouse standing with another man, looking very angry, waving her hands and yelling at him to go away and never return. He slipped into his tent, gathered only those belongings that he could carry to then disappear into the depths of the prairie, heading toward the forest in the deep north.

Jerked back to the moment, Flying Eagle refocused his attention on the current day and minute, still sick in heart at the ever-declining path they had taken. It was then that he realized that no one seemed to notice or care that he had departed. It was only when he returned after a full set of seasons that he realized how much he missed being around and being helpful to the others.

From his seated position of solitude, he could see that his children had all grown, had detached themselves from Fluttering Grouse, and seemed content leading their lives as productive members of the tribe. From a distance he watched Fluttering Grouse shuffle around, seemingly disconnected from everyone, her head down, her eyes constantly on the ground, and clearly had gained an obscene amount of weight, mostly like from emotional eating.

The tent that had been their home had disappeared, a fact he noticed on the day he returned, forcing him to build again, now no longer a shaman but just another part of the tribe. He wondered about his value, if he actually had any, while physically present, he was still disconnected from everyone and everything.

No matter how warm the weather, or how often he briefly interacted with the other tribe members, he always felt cold and empty, wondering what to do, if anything, about the chilling vacancy that always filled him. “Maybe I should not have returned,” he thought to himself. “Where can I be of the most value or contribute something of worth to anyone?”

With these questions still rolling around in his mind, he walked into the distance until he could only see the tips of the encampment tents, to take a seat among the ground hogs that seemed to enjoy his presence, finding no fear or danger with him. “Well, at least someone seems to like me,” he thought. “I guess I’ll simply get back to solitude within nature and settle on that as my new reality.”

No Going Back to Zero

 

Seventeen days after graduation, Lewis received notice of a job posting on a local bulletin board. He placed a quick phone call, received an invitation to a job interview and after a twenty-minute conversation, received an offer to begin the next day. The position was, thankfully, inside a warehouse and the pay was considerably better than his previous temporary position, allowing him to begin saving money, with the goal of one day building his decade long dream of his own business with a yet to be discovered partner.

The following four years revealed an ever-growing bank account, a chance encounter with a like-minded individual who seemed to share the same dream as he, and an opportunity to invest in a small warehouse on the edge of town, into which he poured his creative and restorative efforts, increasing the value to the point of generating more income. This became a cycle in Lewis’ life, finding the necessary equipment and general laborers to assist in his efforts.

As growth continued to manifest itself, Lewis could see his dreams becoming reality, growing in excellence, and quality. This entire endeavor was like a family, as he and his business partner became like a single mind, developing the business and hiring on more and more team members. The entire process was a learning curve, finding new and better solutions, picking up good advice and guidance from those who had more experience and more knowledge, allowing the business to become exponentially larger, more refined, and of increasing value.

Like the creation of something from nothing, the dream that began in his heart so many years before was now becoming reality. As the years passed, the plan made its way onto paper, initially as a rough sketch, then more like a blueprint, and finally a tangible reality with measurements and details, bringing a thrill to his heart and bigger and more beautiful plans to mind.

The years continued on, he and his partner really seemed to be in perfect agreement as to how to proceed, hiring on more and more workers, bringing in specialists which allowed them to focus on development and further enhancements. The business finally reached its zenith, bringing a stop to further growth as their personnel, their equipment, and their need for warehouse space exceeded their current situation. In what became a regular cycle, every five years they moved into larger and larger facilities, watching their success continue to exceed their wildest dreams.

Lewis poured all of his energy into making the business flourish, into making himself that much more educated and capable of running the business, wasting no money, wasting no time, and wasting no energy on things of no value. It was after the fourth move that he decided to bring an end to their movement, and their growth, deciding to focus instead on efficiency and quality.

He began to feel troubled as his partner began spending less and less time focused on the business they had built together, instead directing his energy and attention on other businesses, other people, and other pursuits. Looking back over the last several years, he realized that he should have seen it coming but as the saying goes, “hindsight is twenty-twenty”.

With every aspect and detail of his responsibilities covered, he traveled to a nationwide conference to make more connections and learn more about efficiency. Returning a week later from his trip, he found that the offices and the warehouse were now empty and lifeless, to receive a letter from a local lawyer informing him that the business had been liquidated and had ceased all operations. Along with the closure notice, he received a substantial check, which represented half of the value of the business, forcing him to begin again.

After placing seventeen phone calls and twenty-two text messages to his partner, he received nothing but a voicemail and silence. He returned to his large, comfortable, and cozy condominium to begin planning, once again, how to move forward and how to best invest his money. Within a month, a new business sprang into existence on the opposite side of town, fronted unsurprisingly by his former partner and someone else who claimed to be exceedingly wealthy.

Selling his home and most of his belongings, he moved to a different town, knowing that he could not start another business as his former partner had somehow put together a replacement rather quickly, which felt like a kick to the stomach, considering all that he had sacrificed and accomplished after so many years of planning and hard work. Distance was the key, as a new market needed to be discovered and fed, knowing that he could not overlap what now existed as a reprehensible stab in the back.

Not one to make the same mistake twice, he sketched out a plan, using the decades of acquired wisdom and experience, and vowed to never again go into business with another partner, feeling as if he had lost all trust in people in general. Recognizing his own weaknesses, he knew that everyone else had their own struggles, and taking on the problems of someone else was not something for which he had the stomach. He would certainly maintain his normal practice of aligning acquaintances, for solitude was a bitter pill to live on.

Year followed year and his business took root, gained an audience and a solid, faithful clientele, building up in relatively the same manner as his previous attempt. Thrilled at the success he was achieving; he began to receive requests from neighboring cities and even cities in neighboring states. With his business solid and stable, he traveled to the nationwide conference that year, at least five years after his previous attendance, to learn that the business established by his nemesis and former partner had gotten into the cycle of overpromising and underperforming. He began to see a pattern develop as their customers came to him for his quality product and his consistent output. Without saying the words, he knew the inescapable outcome of this new pattern that was developing. “One can only lose so many customers before everything falls apart,” he thought. Not one to wish ill on anyone, he focused on his work, his productivity, and his personal growth, nearly overwhelmed with his success, his constantly growing business, and constant need for more general laborers and salesmen.

Nine p.m. rolled by as he still sat in his office at the warehouse. He had glanced at his phone to see the time and was startled when it began to ring, a number he recognized and was at the same time surprised to see. “Nope, I don’t have the time or energy for that conversation,” he thought, letting the call go to voicemail. Switching his phone to silent mode, he slipped it in his pocket, turned down the heat, turned off the lights and went home to enjoy a glass of Merlot while watching a performance of Bizet’s “Carmen”.

He woke the next morning feeling perfectly rested and calm, to see that he had eight voicemails, feeling no need to distract himself with listening to them, certain of what he would hear, and not wanting to hear it. “There’s no going back to zero,” he said to himself. When you shatter a wineglass on a marble floor, there is no restoring it to its former glory. When you crumble a beautiful painting into a ball, there is no bringing it back to its former unblemished state. When you run a magnet along a magnetic tape recording, that which was once a beautiful piece of music is now destroyed and unintelligible.

Opening his laptop, he found thirty-three emails from his former partner, all carrying the same pleading subject line, all of which he dropped into the trash, having zero desire to interact or dialog. He vigorously rubbed his face, readied himself for another day at the office, to only realize that it was Saturday morning, tickling something in him to turn on an episode of SpongeBob, which of course he didn’t, instead opting for a thrilling and poetic serving of Vivaldi, while he drank his coffee and ate his toast.

“Some things cannot be undone or redone,” he thought. “I have a new plan in place, a new business that is robust and successful and I have no intention of trying to reheat a souffle.” The future he could see for himself was a bright one, full of potential and a seemingly endless growth arc. His decades of work were paying off, again, and he embraced all that he had learned thus far, promising himself to only continue growing, expanding his knowledge base and fields of experience, feeling the need to make himself better, bigger, stronger, and more informed. Believing that there was no end to what he could learn and apply to recreate himself as comprehensively as possible.

Without Purpose, Without Meaning

 

Lucas sat on his bed, alone in his bedroom, staring across the street at Michelle’s bedroom window, seeing her outline occasionally move behind her sheer curtains, wondering if she even knew that he existed or even cared. His view from his third-floor window gave him an advantageous perspective upon the city below, with its seemingly random activity, as well as a direct view of her bedroom. Though she was two years older than he and had graduated the previous year, he still had his hopes on winning her attention.

Each day as he saw her return to her parent’s home, after work he assumed, his frustration only continued to grow, wondering about the meaning of it all, if there actually was any meaning, for it seemed that life consisted of being born, growing up, receiving an education, finding a marriage partner, working a relatively pointless job, and then dying to only fade into obscurity, with the majority of people being forgotten within a few years.

He was frequently tempted to skip school one day and follow Michelle to her job, passionate to know as much about her as he could. Though he had plans for college after graduating from high school, he somehow knew that if he left without making contact and hopefully a good impression upon her, he would never see her again, becoming absorbed and distracted by university life and finding a job thereafter.

His momentary lapse into introspection and macrospection led him down a rabbit hole for the next week. Initially playing it safe, he stretched his comfort zone of social interaction, asking a wide variety of people about their views on personal responsibility, their long-term goals, and their aspirations for the following generations. After dipping into the most common social groups, wealthy businessmen, stay at home moms, new college graduates, and small business owners, he pushed himself even harder and possibly dangerously and began interacting with the fringes of society. His next wave of questions and answers came from homeless people, gang members, prostitutes, and a handful of politicians, all of whom, including those from his first cycle of questions, seemed to have the same basic ideas and hopes.

Taking down notes from memory after each interaction, he was surprised to find that everyone, regardless of race, economic status, social perspective, or how others viewed them, all wanted the same thing. “Everyone wants to be loved, to be happy, to have their basic needs met, and to love someone,” he thought, as he spent a late evening comparing notes and writing up a final summary of all that he had learned. Tempted to descend to the family living room and share his findings with his parents, he restrained himself, wanting to spend a good deal of time thinking about it all.

He padded his way down the stairs to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of orange juice before bed, when a thought occurred to him about faith and religion. “I didn’t take that factor into account at all,” he thought, criticizing himself for overlooking such an obvious and important detail. “I guess I’m not done yet. This will add an entirely new layer to human perspective, because religion is one thing that many people are extremely passionate about.”

Finishing his juice, he returned to his room to pull up an anonymous search engine, being in New York he trusted that he would be able to find a wide variety of neighborhoods built around either ethnic or religious commonality. His first search consisted of identifying an exhaustive list of religions, some of whom he had never before heard. He discovered twelve different neighborhoods relatively close to his home that housed twelve different religious groups, while the other six groups would need to be interacted with via email or chat.

Creating a map and a plan for the next three weeks, he knew that simply telling his parents the nature and goal of this project would likely stir up feelings of concern, to be followed by warning about the danger of interacting with strangers in unknown neighborhoods. He stood from his desk, paced his bedroom, all the while keeping his eye on Michelle’s bedroom window but only once catching a shadowy sign of movement. It was when his eyes fell upon his anthropology textbook that the simplest solution came to mind. "I'll explain it as part of my research for a school assignment,” he thought. “There’s no argument against that, for sure.”

He returned to his desk, solidified his approach to visiting the multiple neighborhoods, planning on one visit every other school day, not wanting to impose on the freedom of his weekends. He turned on his favorite streaming service and performed his daily calisthenics to the latest Metallica album. Thirty minutes later, he stripped down to his boxers, collapsed on his chair and gave himself twenty minutes to cool down before taking a shower. After a tepid shower and a shave, he slipped into his pajamas and spent the next fifteen minutes casually chatting with his parents before bed.

The next morning he stayed in bed as long as he dared, waiting for his father to leave for work, to then eat breakfast and explain his latest homework assignment to his mother, knowing that she was relatively easy to emotionally manipulate, where his father would be much more logical and rigid in his opinions, a discussion in which he did not want to engage.

After he stepped off the bus at the end of the day, he sent a brief text to his mother, reminding her that he would be a little later than normal as he needed to visit the Orthodox Jewish community on his way home. Interacting with four different men in that community before darkness fell, he feigned the illusion of spiritual interest, hinting that he had been tormented as of late with questions about God, about the future, and about the possibility of the afterlife.

This became Lucas’ pattern for the next three weeks, transitioning from one neighborhood to the next, giving the same story of spiritual interest, and taking notes from memory after each encounter. In all honesty, it was in the Baptist community, predominantly black, that he found the most joy, the most acceptance, and the most excitement. He had never experienced a group of people so excited about their faith and the beauty and joy of the afterlife as he did among them. His initial conversation was with a middle-aged man at the local barbershop, who then directed him to the local Baptist church where he would find several Grandmothers thrilled at the prospect of sharing their faith with the unusual, little white kid from an entirely different community.

After three weeks, he completed his information gathering exercise, deliberately avoiding the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons, knowing them well enough to see their lack of reason and lack of willingness to question their own faith. “Anything that new cannot be legitimate,” he thought. “I’m not going to waste my time.”

Lucas returned home from school the next day to hear the doorbell ring, followed by the sounds of a pleasant and polite conversation between his mother and what sounded like two young women. Quietly descending the stairs, he obscured himself around a corner to hear the all too familiar words of Jehovah’s Witness missionaries. He revealed himself from his hiding place, slipped into a position of authority to excuse his mother and ask leading questions of the young women. Content and unsurprised with the cold, impersonal, and analytical answers he received, he showed them the door and asked them to never return.

By the end of the week, he consolidated all of his notes in the shape of a paper, disguised as an assignment, both thrilled and somewhat confused by his findings. With the exception of the Baptist community that had been so kind and accepting, he found that the predominate view among all others was that of making life as comfortable as possible and being nice with a common thread of doing good works to earn their way into eternal bliss. The only exception was that of the Buddhists and the Hindu’s, with their concept of loss of identity to be absorbed into the ultimate reality as a drop of water disappears into the ocean.

He shared his findings with his parents and could see their positive and pleased response at the conclusions that he had drawn. That evening after darkness fell, he threw away all of his social fears and inhibitions to approach Michelle in hopes of gaining a date for the coming weekend. Receiving an open door by Michelle herself, he smiled, introduced himself and asked her to dinner. With a smile, “It’s about time you asked me out,” she replied, “you should have asked me months ago. Yes, I would love to.”

With his heart beating in his ears, they exchanged phone numbers, a brief hug, and he returned home to go to bed early and dream about the coming weekend. “After all of that research, I need to make the most of the few years that I have because who knows how long it will last,” he said to himself.

A Repertoire of Excellence Crippled by a Singular Weakness

 

Born about a year and a half after his sister, Hampton proved himself superior at every opportunity, learning quickly, excelling far beyond his peers, and displaying the remarkable gift of a strong mind and understanding in every field imaginable. In sports he was gifted, in music he excelled, in academics he exemplified a quick and agile mind that revealed no modicum of struggle or confusion. His work ethic put all others to shame, taking the initiative with multiple opportunities to earn an income, even before reaching his teenage years.

A stunningly handsome young man, which proved to be both a gift and a curse. While not one given over to vanity, he knew and understood who he was and what he had, to still struggle with normal social interaction with his peers, especially those in the female category. Like one who desired to look at the back of one’s own head, while impossible to achieve, Hampton could see his weaknesses but only slightly recognize his incredible talents, gifts, and abilities. His social inabilities were a bane to him and a struggle that he could not overcome.

Genuinely loving those who loved him, he still found a thrill in tormenting and teasing those closest to him, stirring up slivers of animosity but also feelings of endearment, as no matter what he said or did, he was loved by all. His life and interaction were a maelstrom of conflicting words and actions, sometimes angry, sometimes kind but always passionate, seeking to find a connection in a world that did not understand him, and one that he in return did not understand.

Not one to accept limitations or failure, he threw himself into art, refining his skills with hours, days, weeks, and months of practice, again proving himself unconquerable at yet another endeavor. Touching into a wide variety of musical influences, he weaved together an approach to creation that melded two seemingly incongruous genres, creating a beautiful new category of music as of yet unheard.

Everyone he knew, everyone who knew of him, and everyone with whom he interacted could see his remarkable and incredible talent, even when he refused to believe in himself as someone special and gifted. Not one to be content with his growing collection of hobbies, interests, and fields of expertise, he next threw himself into mechanics, finding yet another niche to learn, to understand, and to conquer.

Those who knew him well understood that his mind was not one to be distracted or content with maintaining its current level of understanding or activity. Like a rocket on a launching pad but somewhat chained in place, hungry for the next effort, he moved from one field to the next, adding more and more to his never satisfied passion to grow and learn, a mind racing and ever looking for the next topic to understand and conquer.

With a heart of gold and a love for everyone he met, he deeply desired to connect, to grow, to learn, on a path of never ending self improvement. Yet within that remarkable boundary of Hampton in the flesh, struggled an insecure young man who longed to connect and understand himself and others, yet being completely oblivious on how to do so. His frustration continued to build, as he ultimately learned that this field was one in which he could not excel.

Nearly all of his loved one’s could see his phenomenal character, his remarkable abilities, and his passion for  being a good person, willing to give up anything for anyone, yet there were those who were like him who could not see his struggle, and they too, like him, struggled with doing what they could to overcome their own weaknesses, eventually coming to an understanding too late to help him overcome that one thorn that pierced him through.

As the last few years ground by, those who should have been directing and guiding him, were doing so but were leading him down a path that would lead to his final destruction, the loss of a beautiful, loving soul, struggling to find his place, to find joy, to find contentment and acceptance but failing to do so because of inexplicable details that defined him. The decline was a time of agony, of confusion, of struggle, and of frustration, as many terrible choices were made, words of guidance were offered, and those who should have loved and accepted him failed to do so, trying to force a square peg into a round hole.

Like standing on the shoreline and watching a small boat drift away to eventually disappear on the horizon. The body of the boat became smaller and smaller until finally the mast disappeared altogether, leaving a horrible ache, grief, and despair where there should have been assistance, devotion, and intervention. Movement down a particular path had begun and there was no easy return or change possible, leaving all of those who loved him feeling helpless and overcome with grief, betrayed by their own foolishness and lack of foresight.

He was loved, he was helped in the way they thought was the best that they could offer, and everything possible was done to lead him to recovery but unable to see a path forward, decisions were made that could not be undone, destroying all possible opportunities for resolution and healing. Like watching a large boulder roll down a hillside, some could see the inevitable conclusion that was sure to follow, all of them irreparably damaged when the end finally arrived with a phone call.

There was no longer an opportunity to give the one last hug, words of encouragement, or offers of possible change of trajectory. An emptiness filled every soul that knew and loved him, all were overwhelmed with despair and grief, and some were filled with self-hatred and self-loathing, devastated at their own foolishness and inability to see beyond their own struggles to help Hampton through his own.

There would be no more music, no more art, and no more conversations about cars and pets and future possibilities. A gaping wound had been opened up, leaving a hollow space that could never be filled, for there would never be another Hampton, a beautiful young man with so much potential to be, to create, and to overcome, pouring out his love and compassion on everyone he met. It was an inexcusable loss, leaving the world a much worse place with his absence.