Chapter Sixteen. Oh God Derby. You're not going to try to teach me something are you?

You're not going to try to teach me something are you?

It was pitch black. Derby couldn't see a thing. He had regained consciousness and it was COLD! He couldn't imagine where he was but it felt like a dungeon. His left arm was grappled behind his back to his useless right arm. The pain in his groin wasn't as pronounced as the pain associated with his broken arm. But now what was getting his attention was the cold.

As he tried to stand up, he realized that with his ankles also in shackles and without the use of either arm, it was impossible to stand up. He rolled on to his side and as he did he hit his head on the adjoining wall. "How small is this room?," he wondered.

Like an inch worm, he maneuvered himself on his stomach and knees. Whereever he was it was damp. The walls and floor were wet. With his face close to the floor, the first cockroach had managed to climb aboard his cheek and was exploring around his eyes and nose. He shook his head to release the bug, which was huge. It left behind what reminded him of scratchy foot prints on his skin.

He determined that the room was only about four feet by four feet. No sounds except the insects and the occasional drip of some water, coming from he knew not where.

To take his mind off the throbbing pain of his shoulder, Derby decided to explore some more mental gymnastics. "Wait a minute! Jeninqua was a white marble! It had to have been Trevor, the black mouse that swallowed the white marble! So Jeninqua swallowed the black marble!"

This changed the dynamics of the lesson Umpa had started to teach Derby. "So Jeninqua is Yang--White. That's weird! and she swallowed the black marble--Yin. So at that point Yin is in Yang. Falling into the white hole, the nested "holon" of the situation is Yin inside Yang inside Yin."

Courteous Reader:  I know this material may seem rather esoteric, but we're talking about the most basic fundamentals of life and culture, sex and reproduction, arts and science. We're talking about the pairs of opposites. You know...big and small, hot and cold, boys and girls. Let's see if we can make it interesting to read about....

Let's say you're at work and one of your good friends makes a comment that is inappropriate. At first you let it go because this is a good friend. But again later, he or she says something that makes you go "Yuk," to yourself. You don't want to say anything because you've got history with the person. But you start thinking that maybe you don't have that much in common after all. "How can you like someone who feels that way?," you ask yourself.

So what has just happened? You sort of "woke" up to something you hadn't been aware of. Is it likely that it was always like that but you hadn't gotten deep enough into the relationship to allow yourself to be intimately connected to the person? And what does it mean, to be intimately connected? Are chemistry or laws of attraction at play by chance?

Now let's say you're in another position. Let's say you're married but you go out with friends, outside of the marraige. You've noticed this one person, in the group, who is a friend of a friend. The person seems to very subtly make eye contact with you often. Nothing inappropriate has happend but you feel a little "charge." Sort of an electrical stab, which you might describe as a kind of attraction, if you let yourself.

So what just happened? Two members of the opposite sex felt an attraction. That's all. Before the mind games and the guilt, before the analysis and psycho babble, there was a polar attraction. The negative and positive poles had a little transfer of a "zzzzzz."

What transpires in the head after that or in culture is another thing. What is currently a cultural norm or viewed as appropriate behavior isn't something I'm suggesting to take lightly. We should live in the place we find ourselves. Living somewhere else is something that is very hard to do. Not to mention the pain and anguish that can be caused by human behavior when relationships are involved.

No, I'm not talking about anything after the initial "zzzzz." I'm just talking about the charge. Now let's explore this sexual thing a different way. Have you ever watched two male dogs in a yard? Especially the yard of one of the males? What happens? The ancient game of defending the turf is what happens. But with dogs, the extreme violence of the situation can be seen so quickly. Teeth exposed. Very deep growling. Hair on the neck standing up. Walking in circles until one or the other makes an advance.

So what is happening here? Do you think dogs get caught up in cultural norms? Is it about, "Don't you think you can come in here after I've bought her this house and have sent Johnny and Molly to the best schools?"  Probably not. Probably just inbred defense mechanisms. Now as it turns out it actually IS about reproduction and survival of the fittest, but the stimulus comes quick, as if it is electrical. Two male magnets repelling each other.

Now let's take an art form. Perhaps the most beautiful and complex art which exists and has existed for centuries--Ballet. At a glimpse, you see ballerinas, delicately and nimbly dotting the stage with the smallest fraction of their being. The only thing between their toes and the floor is a toe pad and soft leather, canvas or satin material, tied with a whisper of a ribbon around their ankles.

You think to yourself, "Pretty!" Oh, and it is lovely. Beyond description, the movement and grace, the fluidity and music of the flow utterly charms you right out of yourself, and you find you've been transformed by the experience. The male dancers are extremely masculine, usually, with leg muscles pushing their tights out so that the image of the dancers themselves are art. And the ballerinas--pure feminity. The epitome of the female form...or so it seems.

But wait. Watch the dance. Watch the control. The strength required to raise a leg to eye level, slowly and hold it there for the count of one...two...three...sometimes five or more! This is strength that most athletes don't have. I say athletes because I'm choosing a vocation whose members are known for their strength. But far and away more strenth and control is required by ballerinas than our football superheroes or our basketball giants or our million dollar baseball stars.

Years, yes, years, ten, twenty, usually at least are required to refine the form to the level of mastery. And with that, with those long constant hours of practice comes strength. Muscle strength but mental strength too. Because your body will yell at you, "Put the leg down. This hurts. This is too much. Stop." But the teachers over the years have helped you learn to control that chatter. "Why?," the teacher will remind you, "Why is it saying stop? Because it is hard! But who is in control? YOU! Hold it there. And relax into it. Don't fight it. Fighting it is much harder. Find the relaxation in the pose!"

Aha. So what is happening there? The ultimate feminine symbol, the ballerina which appears soft and fluid--That's Yin. The strength and hardness of what is inside, for instance the muscle, that is Yang!

You see, these examples above, are all instances of "nestled" holons. Holons is a word which has been coined to represent something which is whole in itself but part of something both larger and smaller. Everything in life is a smaller part of something larger, isn't it? And everything in life has both the elements of male and female, Yin and Yang.

It is discovering how to balance things which will make the difference when it comes to finding joy. When things are out of balance, there is struggle. When things are in balance, we're in equilibrium. This is when we are able to be still. It isn't automatic. To be still requires practice also. But finally, in stillness, we can find contentment. In contentment, there is true joy. Please don't confuse jubilation and a "high" emotional state that we may refer to as being happy with true joy. True joy is much more rare.

So back to Derby. As he contemplated Jeninqua as a white marble, turned into a white mouse swallowing the black marble (which had shot out of his own mouth) and then fell into a white hole, the sound of a heavy door on rusty hinges put him on alert. The creeking door sound came from a nearby hallway. Some light trickled under a door into his dungeon chamber and he was able to see just how bad things were for him. Cockroaches were swarming the floor and walls. Cracks and grease and dripping water marked the antique concrete interior of the room.

Derby was blinded when the solid door of his cell was opened, but he was able to distinguish the silhouette of a massive figure, raising the butt of a rifle. "This is it," he thought to himself. "Jeninqua was right. We're dead."

What felt like the final blow of the full brunt of force concentrated in the heel of the rifle crushed his cheek, making the cockroach tracks seem like angel kisses.