Little T

Unlike Big T far away in the forest, Little T lived in a dish with some ground to hold her straight, atop a table where strange monsters took care of her, yet ate so many of her kin. She leaned to one side as her tiny trunk was still growing, and her branches were learning to find their balancing act. Her leaves were often crying for no reason, but reasons were too numerous to enumerate. She spent her days looking at the small jungle across, not knowing that beyond those few trees lay a huge shopping mall, with trees in every corner and store, all of them long dead, transformed into objects, some even admired by the same monsters who took care of her, as if she mattered at all.

There was no other tree, big or small, to guide her, but the Sun’s rays caressed her when they entered her space unannounced. She always rejoiced to feel them embracing her with their penetrating love. Thinking about her existence almost every moment of every day, she slowly began to realize that her world was rather flat. Yet, she noticed many levels, both parallel and perpendicular. But looking at the trees outside, she surmised that existence was mostly flat and that everything wanted to stand up straight. She tried to straighten herself every day for about an hour, intermittently, of course, but could never do it, though she felt her body becoming stronger, and her heart beating fast.

Little T was born to philosophize from her tiny space in time. Her roots were barely knowing, but her leaves were always aware. What is existence? she often wondered. Why am I here and not over there in the corner, or even outside near my family tree? So many questions raced through her entire being, but answers were not easy to find. What is the meaning of my awareness? Why am I asking all these questions? Is the Sun all-knowing? Do the big trees know the answers? Will they even answer me, as long as I am little, or will they tell me the truth about the meaning of life? When will I know the answers? Will I ever stop asking all these questions? What is that sound that I hear all the time?

O Little T! Even the monsters do not have all the answers, and many of them invent them to suit their mindset and calm their fears. They act as if they were superior, but in reality, they are the weakest link. They are eyeing a faraway world, as if this one is no longer needed. They want to colonize the Moon instead of fixing everything they have ruined. They are truly monsters, worse than any others they have conjured up with their minds. They also asked many questions, but many may have adopted the wrong replies, or even refused to consider the truth. The universe does not care about them, and life may be but an accident. It may be the most plausible truth, yet they prefer to believe in the transcendental. Any such consideration requires evidence taller than any tree, even higher than Mount Everest, and deeper than the Mariana Trench. But they may be right, after all, and science may be wrong. Monsters will always be monsters whether they hold the truth or not.

Little T continued to ask her questions, always coming up short. How can she advance forward when she is caged in a box with no way out? She looks at the monsters every day, except when they disappear for a long period once a year. This past year, however, she noticed them more agitated and they never left her all by herself. Were they becoming nicer? Were they changing their ways? She keeps asking all these questions over and over, hoping to at least get one answer one day. The question that always nags her the most is whether the Sun will disappear one day.