By the bay is a short story, a modern-day fable. At first, my voice sounded like an echo--I was repeating what the scientists had to say, then as I started to feel the heat of a speedily warming planet, I started to sound like those who were tirelessly trying to remind others of what's important and urgent. And then I grew silent, because neither worked to change anything around me. From silence came this short story. Through a mix of non-human characters--aquatic, avian, terrestrial, and even celestial, I have tried to focus on the innocence of life, while exploring its diversity. It's a bittersweet story, accompanied by a long and interesting fact sheet.
When I noticed how wrapped my mind is in views, I began to see that the cause of disharmony lies therein. I am not interested in asserting a view point, especially when it compromises harmony. I have laid down the stick, or at least I am attempting to, and I feel the ease.
I met someone on a train ride, and we got talking. We were not strangers really, though we had never met. We had both just completed a thirty-day Vipassana meditation course. Maybe that's what connected us, subliminally. We chatted for three hours, and there were many things he said that were very wise, one of which was:'These are not stories, they were real people.' We were speaking about the lives of people 2600 years ago. Whether we refer to the past, present, or future--lives of people (and all living beings) are not stories that can be heard and forgotten. We are sharing experiences in an interconnected reality. Let's settle our quarrels.