The Circle of Consciousness
A field of flowers lies in a meadow--open, yet contained--and the flowers bloom and
blossom with each and every passing hour.
The meadow is undisturbed, quiet, and calm. The flowers and surrounding grass are its
only inhabitants.
Weather patterns slowly drift through the meadow. Some days rain drizzles down from
the light gray clouds, some days it is bright and sunny, and some days the sky is glazed over with
a thick layer of fluffy, soft clouds.
The meadow is an exquisitely alluring sight. Each flower is of different type, color, and
height than the one it lies adjacent to. The meadow is precisely scattered with roses and tulips to
lilacs and lilies to lavenders and daisies that range from intense reds and mysterious blues to
vibrant yellows and mesmerizing purples. Each flower adds its own unique contribution to the
hypnotizing beauty of the meadow.
As the meadow ages, changes come across it. One day, a figure enters into the meadow,
uninvited. The figure is light red in color and small in stature, yet harnesses incredible power.
The figure begins a slow jog in an oblong shape around the edges of the meadow. As time
progresses, the figure’s jog increases in speed and it begins to trample the flowers beneath it. The
speed and intensity of the jog fluctuates: sometimes the figure sprints at an unbelievable speed
and sometimes the figure slows down to a near halt.
Through all of this, the center of the meadow remains untouched.
As the meadow ages further, more changes come across it. One day, a second strange
figure enters into the meadow. This figure is slightly larger than the first figure and appears to be
a deep, dark navy blue color that one would become lost in after staring for too long. The
entrancing color extends beyond its body and leaves an uneasy essence within its proximity.
Unlike the first figure, the new figure saunters everywhere it goes. The figure trudges through
the meadow, its essence causing any flower near it to immediately wilt. The first figure’s
attention is drawn to the unfamiliar figure and it exhibits an odd behavior that appears to be
something along the lines of relief, as if it were being rewarded for all of its efforts. The blue
figure stops its trail when it reaches the direct center of the meadow, where it sits down, its
attention drearily focused on the shriveling grass blades beside its legs.
Through all of this, half of the meadow remains untouched.
As the meadow continues to age, more changes occur. One day, a third figure enters into
the meadow, its intentions far less clear than those of the two others. The figure is roughly
identical in size to the very first, red figure, yet it is not red, but light gray. Upon its arrival, the
red figure initially appears confused, but quickly fills with excitement and begins to run faster
and faster around the perimeter of the meadow, while the blue figure refuses to simply lift its head in acknowledgement.
The gray figure approaches the red figure and even joins in with the jog sporadically.
This further tramples those poor flowers lining the edges of the meadow, and
with this destruction dawns a faint sense of hopelessness. Sensing this, the red figure bolts
around, the blue figure’s essence spreads further around the meadow and destroys more flowers,
and the gray figure, unsure of how to proceed, begins to run in an oblong shape just inside the
perimeter of the meadow and in the opposite direction of the red figure’s pattern.
The foreboding chaos has resulted in the ultimate desolation of the once pure meadow.
Yet just as it seems that all hope is lost and the meadow shall never repair itself, a gleam
of light--the sight is indescribably, awe-inspiringly stunning--flashes from the sky above. The
three destructive forces seem to notice the presence of this light, and yet they continue with their
ruinous practices. However, the light begins the illuminate the entirety of the meadow, and soon
it is hard for one to so much as see any one of the figures. At last, the glorious, divine light has
prevailed and all that is visible is the most tranquil shade of white known.
With one swift flash, the light reaches to each and every corner of the vast meadow,
restoring it to its previous form of serenity without any trace of harm.
blossom with each and every passing hour.
The meadow is undisturbed, quiet, and calm. The flowers and surrounding grass are its
only inhabitants.
Weather patterns slowly drift through the meadow. Some days rain drizzles down from
the light gray clouds, some days it is bright and sunny, and some days the sky is glazed over with
a thick layer of fluffy, soft clouds.
The meadow is an exquisitely alluring sight. Each flower is of different type, color, and
height than the one it lies adjacent to. The meadow is precisely scattered with roses and tulips to
lilacs and lilies to lavenders and daisies that range from intense reds and mysterious blues to
vibrant yellows and mesmerizing purples. Each flower adds its own unique contribution to the
hypnotizing beauty of the meadow.
As the meadow ages, changes come across it. One day, a figure enters into the meadow,
uninvited. The figure is light red in color and small in stature, yet harnesses incredible power.
The figure begins a slow jog in an oblong shape around the edges of the meadow. As time
progresses, the figure’s jog increases in speed and it begins to trample the flowers beneath it. The
speed and intensity of the jog fluctuates: sometimes the figure sprints at an unbelievable speed
and sometimes the figure slows down to a near halt.
Through all of this, the center of the meadow remains untouched.
As the meadow ages further, more changes come across it. One day, a second strange
figure enters into the meadow. This figure is slightly larger than the first figure and appears to be
a deep, dark navy blue color that one would become lost in after staring for too long. The
entrancing color extends beyond its body and leaves an uneasy essence within its proximity.
Unlike the first figure, the new figure saunters everywhere it goes. The figure trudges through
the meadow, its essence causing any flower near it to immediately wilt. The first figure’s
attention is drawn to the unfamiliar figure and it exhibits an odd behavior that appears to be
something along the lines of relief, as if it were being rewarded for all of its efforts. The blue
figure stops its trail when it reaches the direct center of the meadow, where it sits down, its
attention drearily focused on the shriveling grass blades beside its legs.
Through all of this, half of the meadow remains untouched.
As the meadow continues to age, more changes occur. One day, a third figure enters into
the meadow, its intentions far less clear than those of the two others. The figure is roughly
identical in size to the very first, red figure, yet it is not red, but light gray. Upon its arrival, the
red figure initially appears confused, but quickly fills with excitement and begins to run faster
and faster around the perimeter of the meadow, while the blue figure refuses to simply lift its head in acknowledgement.
The gray figure approaches the red figure and even joins in with the jog sporadically.
This further tramples those poor flowers lining the edges of the meadow, and
with this destruction dawns a faint sense of hopelessness. Sensing this, the red figure bolts
around, the blue figure’s essence spreads further around the meadow and destroys more flowers,
and the gray figure, unsure of how to proceed, begins to run in an oblong shape just inside the
perimeter of the meadow and in the opposite direction of the red figure’s pattern.
The foreboding chaos has resulted in the ultimate desolation of the once pure meadow.
Yet just as it seems that all hope is lost and the meadow shall never repair itself, a gleam
of light--the sight is indescribably, awe-inspiringly stunning--flashes from the sky above. The
three destructive forces seem to notice the presence of this light, and yet they continue with their
ruinous practices. However, the light begins the illuminate the entirety of the meadow, and soon
it is hard for one to so much as see any one of the figures. At last, the glorious, divine light has
prevailed and all that is visible is the most tranquil shade of white known.
With one swift flash, the light reaches to each and every corner of the vast meadow,
restoring it to its previous form of serenity without any trace of harm.