The Village of Cree

I closed my eyes for my morning meditation and cleared my mind. Sri appeared almost immediately. “Today is a big day. Let’s begin.” With that, in my mind he walked through my house and out the front door of my home in TV world. There was a thick fog and I could hardly see three feet in front of me. The mist was cool and clammy. I followed Sri in my mind.

After a dozen steps in the mist, I was right where I had left off yesterday. I was standing on the arched stone bridge overlooking a small town. The mist lifted and I was again greeted with all the intense colors, smells, and sounds of this beautiful world. Speaking of smells, I smelled that wonderful fragrance of fresh bread baking. Following my nose, I went to that shop.

“Oh good. You’re here. You can help me with the bread.” I glanced around the shop which looked like a little bakery with smells of breads and muffins and the like. Before me was a short, slender man dressed in a yellow sleeveless tunic that shimmered with speckles of gold. From my TV world perspective, he looked like ethnically he was a combination of Chinese and Irish, with wavy red hair about shoulder length, freckles, and decidedly Chinese eyes and facial features.

“Well, let’s go. Pick up those and come with me.” He held a loaf and pointed to four other loaves on the counter. He was carrying five loaves.

I followed his instructions and walked with him past the village square to a park like setting along the river, just past the buildings. Many others were gathered there. I set my loaves on a broad table where there was a collection of many fruits, vegetables, nuts, and assorted liquids in pitchers. I glanced around me and then saw villagers of many colors, and sizes. I say colors, because the people were far more varied than I remembered in TV World. On had blue skin with bright green spiky hair and deep green eyes. Another had yellow skin and brilliant long orange hair and what looked like tattoos of tiger stripes across her face and down her neck to her tunic. The tunic was about the only thing that was common to everyone.

I found a spot under a tree and sat there. I had so many questions. I just hadn’t verbalized them.

Sri sat beside me and spoke. “This is your village. This is your soul clan. You all share the same origins, the same dream, the same creation.”

“But why is everyone so different if we are the same origin?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we look like we are from the same race?”

“That is so limited, but understandable. Here, you can manifest however you would like to look. You can change your hair, skin, eyes, height, and even gender if you want. Here you can explore any human shape you want.

“OK,” I responded slowly. “Is that manifestation somewhat how I was able to create the trees early in this story? They can change themselves just as I was able to think and create the trees?”

“Precisely. And much much more. Anything can be manifested that you intend, imagine, and feel into.”

Just then a little girl maybe four years old came up to Sri and me. She had a closed fist hand. She opened it up and exposed a seed. Then, I watched in amazement as in seconds the tiny seed grew into a seedling and then up into a perfect stem with a bud and leaves. Then as if watching a sped up movie, I saw a perfect daisy form. All of this took maybe a minute. She smiled, handed it to me, then scampered off.

“Wow!” I thought, as more profound words escaped me. “Tell me more about this place.”

“There is so much. Where would you like to start.”

“Well, for starters, where are we?”

“We are There. I thought we had established that early on.”

“But where is There? And more specifically, what is the purpose of this village, and all these people? Where were they that they suddenly appeared out of the buildings when the bell rang and are now here on a picnic?”

“Oh so many questions. In time you will remember everything. Where we are now is a village called Cree. This village is a hub for people to learn from the elements.”

“But doesn’t anyone work here? I mean, how do they support themselves and the economy.”

“So many questions. People don’t work here in the way your TV world works. There are no accountants, fast food restaurants, assembly lines, or most of what you are familiar with. There is no ‘supporting’ as you might use the word. There is no need for the exchange of money. There is only the exchange of energy, if you could call that an economy.”

I watched people returning from the table with the tapestry of the fresh fruits, vegetables, and other. I got up and helped myself to a slide of the bread, and slathered it with a coating of fresh honey, then returned to the grass near Sri. I took a bite of the still warm bread and melted honey. It was delicious and unlike anything I had tasted in a very long time. I could taste the love that went into making the bread and honey. It’s strange to say, “I could taste the love,” but that’s the closest I could describe it.

Sri continued. “Here, everyone works for about four hours in the morning, although you might not call it work because everyone does something they love in service to everyone else. I saw you met Aaron in the garden and now Kamal in the bakery. Then, at noon, everyone who desires comes together for a community break and to eat something if they care. Then in the afternoon, everyone goes off to learning, only to come together again for evening gathering, and sunset.”

“What other work is there? I don’t see industries. It’s difficult to imagine how this community can maintain itself. What about food industry? What about health care? What about commerce? For instance, where does the clothing come from everyone is wearing?”

“Let me show you.” Sri stretched, then got up and walked back towards the buildings. He led me to a small, brightly lit building with window boxes filled with flowers outside the door. Inside, the room was bare except for a table with a large clear box. We walked up to the box. “Ask for something,” instructed Sri.

“How about a tunic?” I knew it wasn’t very imaginative, as I had just asked about clothing.

“Give it some intention. Imagine the color, shape, and size. See the tunic on you. Imagine how the texture feels in your hands. See how the light reflects off of it.”

I gazed at the box and imagined a light, fern-green tunic that would fall down to my ankles, made of something that felt as soft as silk yet as strong as linen. Then, there was a mist filling the box for a few seconds, and then a tunic just as I had imagined appeared. One of the walls to the box disappeared and I reached in and pulled out the tunic and held it up in amazement.

“This is how we get everything we need that we don’t make ourselves. Try it on,” Sri suggested.

I quickly got out of my TV world clothes and slipped into the tunic, which was both warm and cool to my skin. I slowly began to understand that anything the villagers needed could be obtained from these creation boxes.

“Now put your other clothes in the box,” Sri instructed. I placed them in the box and watched the mist appear and then become clear and empty again. “Everything is created and returns to Source. We have no landfills or recycling centers here.”

That alone left me in amazement. This reminded me of the science fiction replicators that could make anything. Anything no longer needed or in use was then returned to the replicators. Here was valuable technology in what I thought was a backwards, medieval village!

“What other sorts of work do the people do here?” I asked a if so much could be provided by the replicator, then I had difficulty imagining what work there could be.

“There are artisans who make things of beauty, like paintings, jewelry, pottery, or textiles. There are people who make musical instruments. There are also groups of people who construct together.” We left the little shop and walked across the village center to what looked like a partially constructed building. It looked surprisingly like a pyramid in the making. It was about forty feet square at the base and tapered slightly up. It looked about half complete in my non-technical mind.

“What is that?” I asked looking at the building in progress. I could see tools of sort around the base, and had no doubt that the tools were created in the creation box.

“It is a new healing center. Sometimes a person needs extra time for alignment and renewal. A few people will use it any day as needed. About thirty members of the community are helping construct it. We can observe them another day. Next you will be introduced to our afternoon learning period. But enough for now.”

I felt a fog roll in around me and all around went white. Then, I breathed deeply and opened my eyes from my meditation. I was again back in my TV world, sitting on the floor of my bedroom.

I could hardly wait for what the next day would bring.

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