I am a long-time Futurist, and technologist. In my career, I have spanned the birth of personal computers, to the rise of Cloud Computing.
A Doe approached the Master
The master would often rise before the students in the morning. Each she would quietly leave the school and move to the edge of the forest. A glade where over the years, she had found places to sit and listen. She would begin her day not with the sound of students voices, but instead the sound of wind in the grass. Each blade of grass bending to the wind. And in the bending release a sound. That sound pushed together with the rest of the Glade created the harmony the master sought.
The songs from the grass would fill the air around the master, and she could remove the world and reflect on the quiet of nature. It was in that state one morning when a large doe came to her in the forest. It did not move or startle when it saw the master. She reached out to rub the Doe's nose. The Doe stood with the master for a time.
There were a million questions that the master wished to ask the Doe. Why, after all these weeks, did the Doe come to the master this day? But she stood and rubbed the Doe's nose and was at peace. Sometimes questions were not required. Sometimes questions did little but stir the air with the breath. The Doe was sharing the moment with the master.
Eventually, the Doe walked away. The master quietly reflected for a moment, then she too headed back to the school. As like every other day, the master walked into the school area. First, she could hear the cooks' sound in the kitchen, the sound of pans banging and food being prepared. As she passed the kitchen, she could listen to the students' sound stirring for the day. Brooms are brushing on the stone walk in front of the school. Brooms are sweeping the floors of the school. All of these were sounds she knew, sounds she had known for many years. They were sounds she had made when she was a student.
The Butterfly flew away.
Each morning before school begins, the master would prepare her lesson. On this day, she thought about what happened to the blade with the deal. She chose not to base her lesson that day on what the deal taught her. Instead, she thought I would teach my students about science. I will raise them to a level where they do not fear quiet.
The master entered the classroom, the students shuffled to their seats, and the master began the lesson. I wish each of you; she said to go outside and find a place to sit. What you are comfortable, then I want you to ponder. To wonder, to think and see and hear the world around you. And when you return to class tomorrow, having reflected. I wish you to bring with you one sound. One thing that you heard changed within you to be something else.
The class wandered off to fight their quiet spot and listen to the world's sounds seeking oneself that changed within. The master returned to her reserved room and reflected for time. As she had done for many years, first she would give the students a lesson, and then she would reflect not just on that lesson but on what she had learned that day.
The next morning as was her tradition, the master awoke and walked to the Glade. The dewpoint was low that day, and the air was filled with tiny drops of moisture landing on the grass landing on the flowers. The master sitting in the gentle morning Faulk relaxed and allowed the blade to come to her. It was not long after that the master noticed that the double return. This time with the dough were two butterflies landing each on her hands. She reached up and packed the nose of the deer. The butterflies moved with her hands and stayed near them, and then when she was done having the deer's nose, they again landed on her hands. She looked at each of the butterflies. They reach unique and different one was a reddish hue bright as the sun itself. The other was blue like the sky but a quieter bullet, not the sun's loud red but the quiet balloon of the morning sky. She reflected again on the sound of the leaves of grass bending with the weight of the do pulling them towards the ground. Again the Joe walked away. The master rose after a time and walked again to the school. Again entering the compound, she heard the sound of the kitchen staff preparing the breakfast. Passing the kitchen, she heard the sound of the students preparing for the morning.
On this day, when she returned to her room to prepare students' lessons, she found a single leaf on her desk. It was not the leaf of fall. Its color was green fresh. Not drain as it would've been in the fall. It's chlorophyll gone forever. The master gently touched the leaf. And instantly recalled the butterflies the dog. She recalled the sound of leaves bending with morning mist—the sound of the wind swirling around the Glade.
The master rose and walked into the classroom. She could hear the students' buzz and excitement as they were before she arrived, sharing the sounds they had heard. She listened for a moment before opening the door to the sound of crickets. I heard two birds fighting. I heard the sound of the wind creaking in the old wood of the forest. I heard the sound of a babbling brook. The master opened the door gently, and the students quickly assemble to their places. The master asked them what they had heard, and they shared the many sounds the cacophony of noise that nature creates. The master looked at the students and said, your lesson today is to take the sound you heard and bring it within yourself. Take time and make that sound a piece of you. The master smiled and waved as the students walked out of the room. She gently pulled the leaf from her pocket and noticed that the leaf was still perfect; it had not been bent in her pocket. It had not begun to lose its chlorophyll. She let the leaf flutter to the floor. But before he touched the floor became a butterfly and flew away.
This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.
© 2020 DocAndersen