A narrow vertical line was the only object within my vision. While my eyes were wide open, I could perceive no more than a thin line. As I raised my head, the line steadied and became horizontal. Darkness lied above and below it. As I tilted my head, so did the line tilt. The line seemed to follow my head’s orders to exactitude. However, as I rotated my head, the line refused to budge.
I stared onward for a few moments, as suddenly, color began to emerge from the line. Leading with large, formless hands, a glorious orange color ripped itself from the line and began crawling towards me, body dragging. Meanwhile, a brilliant blue worked in cooperation with the orange and agreed to rise above this thin line rather than sink below it. The orange and the blue seemed to share a mutual agreement that neither should interfere in each other’s path. It was at this time, that the two colors began to provide definition, texture, and form to the infinity that was above and below the line.
They revealed what previously could not have been seen. They revealed a spotless blue sky above and a curvy sandscape below. The colors gently reminded me of the cruel setting that I had found myself therein. They insisted that my dehydrated brain was not telling me the full story. And that, what I perceived to be colors and shapes, was actually a “desert.” Such a high-level concept was difficult to grasp, but as the colors grew more vibrant, my brain’s level of conceptualization grew too.
I rose myself, on top of what I could only assume to be my feet (my level of conceptualization was still quite poor), and began to examine my surroundings further. No matter where I turned, there was nothing to be seen. The orange told me where I was currently while the blue reminded me that there was no escape in sight.
My head fell into my hand as its weight grew too heavy for my neck to bear. My hand felt sympathetic for my head, so it let this awkward pose remain. The thought of thrusting my head back on top of my neck, where it should lie, was simply too rude and unempathetic for such a time.
As my head rested defeated within the palm of my hand, like a body in a casket, I was reminded of the sensation of the “orange.” It was an irritating texture that encased my hand like a glove. It was quite unpleasant, but I recognized it as the “orange” insisting that I and I quote, “Look once more!”
I’m unsure if it was my head that obliged the request or my head. But, my head was gracefully restored back on top of its perch where it belonged. I thought my eyes were deceiving me yet again, but that simply could not be the case! Behold, a third color greeted me.
It was the grey. A tall, lone mound lied far off in the distance. It was planted firmly between the orange and the blue. I had gotten quite used to the taunting of the blue and the gentleness of the orange at this point. So then, my mind was puzzled as to how I was supposed to interpret the grey.
Unlike the first two colors, this color seemed remarkably indifferent to my position. It seemed to watch me more so than I watched it. It reminded me of my pathetic stature relative to itself. Its static behavior also mocked my delirious and desperate position. And so, it was at this point, that it made an offer to me.
It spoke, not with its words, but with its form. It said to me, “Come and see that I am worthy of your worship.” My head and hands seemed to have found themselves in a squabble after hearing the grey’s request. My feet interjected in the conversation and accepted the offer, dragging along my indifferent hands and head.
And there I was, no, there we were. Different pieces of one whole, stuck to one another, being helplessly propelled towards a taunting god. The grey was clever. It not only correctly diagnosed our position, but it was the instigator the caused “me” to split into “we.”
Nothing felt out of the ordinary to us. The grey was not being deceitful, it was simply reminding us of who we were. We were incomplete, imperfect parts that needed a better whole. Fallible beings before a perfect, resolute god.
Why then should it be strange for us to seek to serve a god? Who else do we have? The blue was no help. It only laughed and mocked. The orange was gentle, but still, it was no friend. It was too irritating to embrace. Our head was in no position to work efficiently with our neck. Heavens, our hand had to step in to save the day! And because our head and our hands were caught in a pointless feud, our feet had to intervene and make a call to quit the meaningless jabber.
The large mound bellowed once more, “Ascend and see. Search and you will find.”
The grey began to seem like the nicest of them all. Sure, it cut us down to pieces, but it was in an effort to remind us of our fragility and need for a god. Unlike the other colors, it promised hope!
We were overwhelmed with pure gratitude, and from it, ecstasy. “A god has come to rescue us this day!” we exclaimed. “Look how powerful and mighty it is. Notice how it rises far above anything surrounding it. It tramples the mischievous orange and pierces the mocking blue. Finally, an interceptor! An advocate! A helper! A friend! How would we have ever known that we needed to worship had not our frailty been shown to us?”
We agreed that our current form was no longer suitable now that we had been fully exposed. My head severed itself from its neck. My hand broke ties with its wrist. My foot waved goodbye to its ankles.
From my severed head, my eyes realized that my head was no longer a suitable home. They shot themselves out like cannonballs and embraced the irritating texture of the orange. As they continued to roll forward, they amassed as much “orange” as they conceivable could, with pleasure. My fingers had enough of my hand and so they offered a rude goodbye gesture before slicing themselves off. My toes seemed inspired by my fingers. They crudely parroted the behavior the fingers showed and left their feet.
And so, we were finally separate. My eyes rolled like marbles. My fingers crawled like inchworms. My head moved like a bowling ball. We continued our pilgrimage towards our new god. Only it could make us whole once more.
