YellowSubmarine #6

Memory, Understanding, and a Goldfish as well...
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Where is Wally?...

The windows are stark in their paleness and stalwart in protecting the quiet seclusion of the room, if only temporarily. The bit of light that does advance beyond the drapes seems to languish about the room, more haunting than halo.

...What could be keeping him? It's half past supper time and he's not here. This is the fifth day in a row. He hasn't been around much at all lately if even once. This is not like him. He always comes by and sprinkles a little fairy dust on the water for me...

A little tuft of curtain moves for no apparent reason. Stillness has fallen again. Once more the windows are victorious.

…He calls it fairy dust. It's not dust like the stuff on the window sill, though. It's really more of a flake. I guess I'll never understand why he calls it that. He was always calling things by names he made for them. Why 'Comet' anyway? Comet? I don't know who or what that is, but if he likened me to one so much...I see my reflection in my glass and I'm just… Bulbous... Perhaps it's something round...

The rocking chair seems to nod in agreement. Some strange wind has denied the window's valiant efforts and is stirring within the room.

…That's probably because he feeds me too much. That's what the old woman used to say anyway. Where is he? I'm hungry. Where could he be?...

Unseen by naked eyes a man enters the room.

…I'm not starving though, thanks for that. There have been a lot of people around lately. I don't like them though. They're depressing; all dressed in the most hideous darkness and crying a lot. All but the children. I like the children. They remind me of Wally. They run about and tap on my glass just like he did at first. Oh, what a headache…

“Wait, where am I? It seems I know this place. Everything in here feels strangely familiar, but it almost doesn't seem real." To the man speaking it was spoken in a clear and natural voice. Otherwise it was inaudible, as any another thought would be.

'Ah, you're beginning to recognize. That is good.', another voice remarks. It is older and filled with the calm of understanding.

“Who are you? Of course I recognize this place. I'm just not sure how I know of it. It seems like a dream perched on the edge of a memory, but I just can't seem to place exactly where or how I got here or what I'm doing in this dream or say, where are you anyway? I hear your voice, but where are you hiding?”

'All will be answered in it's own time. For now, know only that you are safe and that you are not alone.'

"Well what kind of an answer is that?!?"

'It is truth. You want to know where you are. Perhaps the answer lies within the last thing you remember?'

…At least one of the bigger ones fed me. But now they've been taking stuff from my Wally's room. And the old woman! That mean, horrid old woman!...

“…Last thing I remember was going to sleep. I seem to be dreaming. So many strange dreams, horrible dreams of death and caskets and loved ones dressed in black. What a terrible dream. Soon it will end and I will wake up and be glad to forget it. How strange it was though..."

'It is true. You have been at rest, but this is not a dream and you are not sleeping. In truth, you have not needed sleep for five days.'

"What are you talking about? I'm at rest, but I'm not asleep? What's with the riddle-me-this routine?"

'It is simple enough really. You are dead.'

"If this was not a dream and I am dead, which I'm not, then how would it be possible to be here conversing with you?"

'Cogito erego sum. There are more ways to communicate that merely speaking. If you do not believe so then ask yourself why you have not once stopped to take in another breath? Is it possible to speak with air to fill your lungs? You ask where I am, but where are you? Where are your lips, your teeth, your tongue to speak with?

"Then, I am really..?”

There was now sympathy to match the calm in the disembodied voice of understanding. 'It may perhaps be difficult to grasp, but not to understand. When was the last time you could converse with another like we're doing now?'

“You mean the last time I've spoke to another person? Well, I've always been able to manage a word or two but…”

'Yes. ...but you haven't had a conversation, much less been so articulate as you are now for at least four years. The real question is whether you remember why its been so long.'

…first she makes that crack in that terrible accent and now this. 'If he get too big we have to fry him and serve him with tartar sauce!', indeed! Now Wally is gone and she is taking his stuff like he doesn't exist anymore. She's already began to pack his books from the bookcase…

“Why so long? I'm not sure exactly. I've only ever been able to remember bits and pieces of it.”

'Yes. But that was then and this is now. It was your body that couldn't remember. Now that physical limitation is no longer an obstacle you are beginning to experience pure consciousness. You are seeing the world as it really is. No filters. No illusions. No hindrances of any kind. It takes a bit of getting used to at first, so to ease you along your path you are now in the most comfortable place in your memory. Now can you remember why its been so long?'

…She's the one I bet. She's the one who took him from me. Oh what I'd like to do to her! The next time she comes close I'm going to draw her close and spit in her eye!...

“Perhaps if you'd tell me what I'm looking for? I'm trying, but it's like wading through mud and it's painful.”

'Do not worry, it will get easier with time. For now, just relax. Think of something which made you feel happy. How about that goldfish on the bureau? Try to think back to when you first got it.”

“Will that help? Wait. Yes. Yes, I feel it. The pain is gone. It feels… It feels good. Warm. It's almost soothing, like a soft hug or a warm blanket. Yes. Yeeeessss…”

…I miss him. It's not just the food either. I miss those smiles which only used half of his face. I miss the belly laugh and the gaping mouth. I miss the way that he'd say my name like he was always so surprised, so excited to see me each day. I miss the way he used to hover over the surface of the water while he sprinkling me with his fairy dust and the way his eyes seemed to grow bigger while he watched me eat…

'The pain you felt and the joy you're feeling now is the emotional attachment which binds you to those memories. If you think of something sad you will be sad, if you think of something funny, you will laugh with your whole soul. If you remember something painful, you will feel pain.'

“So I could just remember my happy times and stay happy forever? I think I'm going to like this place.”

'Yes. And no. This is not a 'place' in itself. This is merely a conscious reflection of a state of being. Your joy, your pain, they are ties not only to your emotions, but to the tangible world as well. You felt physical pain without having a body to be injured and a sense of touch to feel it. As long as you remain tied to your old existence you will never be able to overcome it and ascend to your true place. The Catholics call this 'place', this right of passage, purgatory or limbo. To the Greeks, it was symbolized as the journey across the river Styx. You are no longer one of the 'living', but you are still fettered by the flesh. Currently you are caught between death and eternity.'

“Why would I mind that? Certainly you could be happy here for an eternity with nothing more than your sweetest memories.”

'In truth, most souls don't mind it at first. For a time they can even be happy here. Because of this, some choose to linger here indefinitely. There are however two consequences of remaining between the two realities. Peace is only gained through spiritual growth and if one remans here too long they become as stagnant water. There is no growth but that associated with decay and soon even sweetest memory is obscured by the miasma of it. As long as you remain here you will never know peace or serenity. One may feel happy now until one's memory slowly fades with overuse and before long the sweetest memories are lost to posterity, while only the painful memories and the pain that they bring remain vivid. Soon those ties which you now embrace become the chains of Jacob Marley.'

“But won't those memories fade as well?”

'Yes, in time. Even then it will take longer than your joy to subside and it will exact a greater toll from you. Joy and love thrive and become all the more dear for the memory of pain. Alone, joy is barely felt as deeply or appreciated as much. But pain is just the opposite appearing all the more excruciating for the absence of love. Even worse, when someone is unwilling or unable to sever one's ties to both pleasure and pain, that same decay claims them both then all that is left is emptiness and loss. One's eternity becomes not one of being, but of nothingness. In turn, each eternity is felt not as a moment, but rather each moment will be felt as an eternity.

'Then there is the second consequence. Think of the goldfish on the beurau for a moment.'

…I miss the way that he used to stare for fifteen minutes at a time into my glass and then run away only to come back a moment later and stare at me again with a big smile on his half face…

“Is that Comet speaking?”

'Speaking, no. But animals are more conscious than they are given credit for. What you're hearing are it's thoughts. Think again of the goldfish.'

… Please old woman. Please bring him back! I swear I won't eat as much! I swear I won't be so messy so you won't have to clean my tank so often! I swear I won't stay in one spot all day! I'll swim around more and be more entertaining if you'll only please bring my Willy back!...

“Old woman? He must mean my grandmother. Does Comet really think she has me stashed away somewhere?”

“Your goldfish knows the world from the inside of its aquarium and nothing else. Is it so hard to believe it could come to such a conclusion? What's more, can you feel the panic, the sense of loss your goldfish endures now? How much more pain do you think your grandmother feels? As long as you can't sever your ties to the world, they can't sever their ties to you.'

“So the longer I stay here, the longer they suffer?”

'In a word: Yes.'

…Please! Please old woman I beg you, please! ...

“So how do I stop it? How do I stop their pain?”

'It's simple really. Or it sounds that way, but it usually proves difficult enough. All you have to do is just let go. You must confront and resolve your emotional ties in order to discard them.'

“…And I must feel every pain again?”

“Yes.”

“This sounds simple to you? It doesn't sound so easy to me.”

'In all likelihood it won't be, but the concept is simple if not the practice. Again, that is why you are here in this room, where you will find every compassion available to you.'

“So how do I start?”

'It is a good thing that you are ready to attempt to move forward. You are assured that as you progress so will they.'

“But will they lose all memory of me?”

'You are not working to forget your memories. You are working to be at peace with them. As you find it, so shall they.'

“Really? Well, if that's the case, then let's go.”

'You are the one who decides the pace. If you wish to start, try again to remember why you got your Goldfish.'

…I suppose its no use. What's the use of anything? I'm never going to see my Wally again. Old woman or not he's gone away and he's never coming back! I'll never see his half-smile again. I remember when I first saw him. They set me in this place-the old woman and the old man, the old man left afterwards. They led him in with eyes covered. I was scared at first and I didn't make much of him. His shirt was dirty and he moved about rather awkwardly, bobbing up and down as he went like that stupid plastic diver guy they put in here with me. What's that all about anyway?...

"Geez, how did it start? I remember my grandparents. I had just moved in with them. I remember a few years they led me into the room. I was having difficulty walking and I couldn't move my left arm. I turned the corner and stood where my grandparents stopped me. When they uncovered my eyes, I saw Comet. I remember putting my face up against the glass to see him better and trying to talk to him..."

...He came closer and put his face against the glass. He tried to say something. It only boomed through the glass and made me feel smaller. I might have been more intimidated, but something in Wally's eyes was soft. They said everything was going to be okay then...

"I didn't call him Comet at first but, well, one of the things I remember about my grandfather before he died was reading to me from these story books. Kids stories mostly, but the occasional classic. He'd sit in his recliner and read to me while I rocked away in the rocking chair watching the fish. -I remember him angling the rocking chair away from his recliner and towards the tank so that I could listen to the stories and watch Comet at the same time.- I remember on the cover of my favorite book was a big, bright orange comet, like something out of a Van Gogh painting, but I don't seem to recall being able to make that distinction. I just liked the pretty lines. It looked like my goldfish and I was fond of both the book and the fish, so I guess the name just stuck..."

... He liked to talk to me. He'd talk to me by yelling into my water. The old woman kept yelling at him to quiet down. She said that he would scare me. He never did. He had those eyes. That made everything okay. He looked at me and I was safe. He would never let anything happen to me. He liked me. I liked him. You don't get that kind of care being born in a family of sixty-two. It was special...

"When my grandfather died, I tried reading myself. It seems silly now, but I had such a hard time with it then. Grandmother never bought any new books, so I made do by repeating the stories to myself and pretending I was reading them. Grandma just seemed more distant after grandpa died. Sometimes she'd snap at me and talk to herself out loud. She'd say how life was so unfair to her. She said that she didn't see what was so special about special needs, but that the needs part was certainly being polite. She never said anything directly to me, but it was clear enough. But why? Why was it so difficult for me to move and read?"

...Sometimes I wonder if he would have cared so much if he wasn't the way he was though. Was he normal, or was the old woman?...

'This is good, but how did you come to live with your grandparents? What do you remember just before that?'

"That's a good question. I don't think I was always so challenged. I vaguely remember what it was like to be normal. The last thing I remember about being normal those were two pills and a blackout. Perhaps I was on medication, but I didn't seem to have anything wrong with me then."

'These pills, did you get them from a doctor?'

"No. No. They were being handed to me by a guy in a shiny shirt... Wait. It's starting to come back... but... but it hurts."

'Just relax for a moment and think about Comet.'

"Yeah, that is better."

'You don't realize it, but something very important just happened. Every soul has its own worst memories gathered within the course of their 'natural' lifetime. Usually they derive from some sort of death or extreme trauma, but its always a turning point in their physical life. Each memory of each experience is a catalyst of future change, and some memories when they are brushed aside and left to fester, manifest themselves as a person's inner demons. Among these there is always one principle demon. It is the most difficult to slay and it is usually the source from which all other demons gain their support and thrive. Consequently, this is the first demon that must be confronted and slain. Once you do this, all others will fall away in their own time. It will not go easily though. It is always the most painful and trying to overcome. Usually it overwhelms the senses with isolation and despair and corrodes the soul with anger, sadness, or lonliness. Some succumb to it's influence.

'For this reason it is important to remember what was said earlier. Primary in your understanding should be the fact that you are not alone and you are safe here. There is no way you can be hurt anymore than you allow yourself to be. Your task now is to remember without attachment.'

"But what if I can't? Its just hurts too much."

...Wally?...

'Simply, you must. Again, think of your goldfish and all the others who care for you, but this time think of how prolonged their agony will be as long as you seek comfort in their memory and not closure. All those who love you need you to be strong. It is up to you how long you keep them in suffering.'

...Wally? Wally? How can I go on without you? I need you to keep me safe...

"Well then, here goes. I...I...guess I was at a party, or a club or something. I remember people were dancing and... drinking..."

'Good. Good. You are doing well. What of the man in the shiny shirt?'

"He...seems to be a friend of mine. Or at least I know him. He is reaching towards me with his hand outstretched..."

'And what is in his hand?'

"Some pills. Some pills are in his hand. He is telling me... it hurts!..."

...Wally?...

'What is it? What is he telling you?'

"He says...ah! He says he's got some n-new stuff. He... s... He says I might like it.

'Good, and then what?'

"Th-then I...I t-take them."

'Yes, then what?'

"A-at f-first...I don't feel any-anything. B-but th-then..."

'Yes?'

"It hurts! IT HURTS!

...Wally? Wally, I need you!...

'Yes??'

"Th-then I...I...AGGGH!...I..I f-feel it! I...I...no!...I f-f-feel a he-h-heat r-rush over me like m-m-my senses are on fire...Arg...God...the pain...throbbing..."

...Waaallllyy!...

'And then?'

"Th-then, th-then I...I blacked out. W-when I w-w-woke up I...ahhh, huh, it's working! The pain is going away.

'Don't stop now,you are doing well. It will only get easier from here.'

"...I felt a pain like the splitting of my brain and the left half of my body was limp and heavy. I remember the doctor-I was d-drifting in and out of consciousness and he was saying-he was saying something about perm...permanent brain damage. Yes. Yes I remember now."

'You've done well. How is the pain?'

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

'If this is true, then you have done it.'

"Really?"

...That's it... He's never coming back...

'Yes. There are a few more memories which need to be reconsiled but the will come easily after that.'

"Then what will happen?"

'Then you will have found enlightenment an you will become part of the greater being.'

"The what?"

'Once you free yourself from the other world you will cease to be yourself because you will recognize that self was just another illusion confined to your old reality, a means of limitation and seperation from the greater being. You will retain you memory, but you will simply just be you as you were meant to be. For now though you will be able to handle your 'Psychic spring cleaning' well enough alone.'

"So you're leaving me then?"

'You must slay your own demons. All you need in the beginning is someone to tell you how and help you find it. Fear not. "I" was never here in the same sense that you were, and so "I" am not leaving you. Inherently as a part of the universal being you recognize that we are all one. You are never alone'

"What about Comet and Grandma though? Will they be alright as well?

'Given time love will work its wonders.'

"Given time will I be as vague and incoherent as you are being right now?"

'Perhaps. Its something else to aspire to...As for that, I leave you to your own devices.'

“Wait! Something is still bothering me. There is a question that I hesitated to ask earlier. If I am experiencing all this as it truly is, why is everything in black and white? Isn't color real? And why is everything so blurry? Is it cloudy just to add to the surrealism?”

'In some forms, yes. However, that which you recognize as color and focus is simply a matter of light being picked up and disseminated by your lens, retinas, and visual cortex via your occular nerve. It is the product of a physical means of filtering your perception of the world…'

“…And because there I am no longer bound to my body I am no longer dependent upon its means for my perception?”

With an audible grin the voice of understanding replied,” Good. You are finally getting the hang of thinking outside of your physical parameters. You're going to be just fine after all.”
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An old woman shuffles into the room, a black shawl carefully draped across her shoulders. She crosses herself and mutters a well-practices prayer as she makes her way to the bureau and the fish tank. Her eyes stare into the fish's. Soon both would be filled with water. She places a careworn and uncertain hand upon the glass. Slowly she lifted her head to speak to the sky and she began to pray. What should have been a proud, coarse slavic accent now seemed too brittle and frail to lift her words heavenwards. With every pause, with every crack her voice seemed to buckle slightly further under the weight of her words and her conviction to say them.

"Wally, where ever you are, I know I was harsh at times and I said some hateful things. Truth is, when your grandfather died after fifty-four years of marriage I thought my world was ended. They say "til death do us part’, but somehow it is that they never tell you what to come after that. After fifty-four years of cooking and ironing and cleaning and raising of our children and picking lint off his shirt, only to be watching him slip away to Alzheimer’s, I didn't know how I could go on without him. Those times I feel alone, empty. This is terrible pain which spoils even sweetest cream and turns wine to vinegar.

“Only now do I realize of what blessing you were to me during these times. You gave me reason to keep going until I find will for myself. I resented not being able to slip away and be with him again, but I realize how grateful I was to be needed. I know I was cruel at times, vindictive at others. I wish I could just take all back. I know I can never make up to you. I know I should say something before. Again I fail you. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Wally, where ever you are, I want that you should know I love you and I'm sorry. I know how much you loved Comet. If this is all I have left to do for you, I promise to look after him as I should look after you."

...I was wrong Wally. She is not a horrid old woman. Now I see why you loved her so much even when she was mean to you. Wally, where ever you are, I want you to know that I love you and I'm sorry. I know how much you cared for her and promise to look after her for you...