Pattern Path: Meyöt's Way

2012-01-17T14:05:00.000-08:00

Inspired by the 6-part song, We Are Lost, by Della Terra (Parts 1 & 6 released on their 2011 album, Patterns) :

1. Farewell

Why am I here? I ask myself. Where is all of this headed? I don't see the point anymore.

Gritting my teeth, I look out over the site of the dig. Brush has been cleared away, earth moved. Holes dot the dry earth, wells leading down to archaeological waters. There was a big find yesterday. A tablet into which my grandfather's mysterious chunk of jade fit like magic. Pedro expressed excited amazement for the entire camp, while I remained silently dazzled. It still hasn't sunk in. Not really. But something else is sinking in. Has been for days now. And it's not right.

I'm seeing things.

"Meyöt!" Pedro calls my name, the name my grandfather calls me by, despite the fact that his only son – my father – hates it when he does. It's not on my birth certificate. Hell, it's not even a real name, but I've always responded to it. Because, well, because I love my grandfather. Even if he is crazy. Even if he is the reason I'm here, going crazy myself.

"Meyöt!" My assistant shouts my name again.

I turn around and look down the hill towards camp. "Sorry, Pedro! You want me?" But Pedro isn't there. What? I turn back around, thinking that maybe he has somehow managed to circle me, but this is not the case. It's like he was never there, like I'm hearing voices. And then I see something beyond belief.

The dig site has transformed into an impossible scene of ethereal beauty. A luminous citadel of gemstone and light stands before me, sparkling with magic from beyond time. Beams of yellow and green hover and flex above the white crystalline structure, and my jaw drops. When it does, I feel a pressure there, in my mouth, as if I am inhaling vaporous energy, cool and light.

Then I start to choke.

"Cough it out, Meyöt. Cough it out."

I cough, again and again, but it does not clear my lungs. Something remains. "I need to – oh, Pedro! Thank God, I…" but my mind loses hold of whatever thought it was trying to express.

"You should rest, sir." Pedro is holding me, supporting me. "The workers have their instructions, and there is no need for you to lead. Not right now, anyway." He eases me back to my feet. "Get some rest." He sees that I am clutching in my hand my grandfather’s piece of jade, and gives me a questioning look.

"Don't bother me about this, Pedro. I need to study it."

"Of course, sir." Wisely, he does not pursue the topic. "Just get some rest."

"Yes," I mumble and walk back to my tent. "Farewell for now."

2. Memory

Sleep takes me, but I find no rest there. Instead, I relive distorted memories, both of my real past and of my more recent visions. They overlay strangely…

"Meyöt," says my grandfather, pressing the piece of jade into my hands. "Meyöt." * The piece fits the tablet. The words inscribed there find their context. * "Take away the 'T' to reveal the truth." * "What 'T'? What truth?" * "Why, the truth of your destination." * "And where am I going?" * "To the place without the 'W', I am sure." * "What?" * "Ha. Ha, ha, ha. Exactly." * The laughter of the old man becomes a cackle, and I run. * "We cannot stay here any longer. The earth is changing. The old ways are gone. Our city is destroyed." * I see no city, only a ball of light growing dark. I feel sick. I want to vomit, and when I do, the ball of light emits a glowing pellet, which I swallow. "Keep this safe, Meyöt. Keep our wisdom safe."

As I surface from my dream, not yet fully awake, I feel that I am a being of light charged to preserve something of terrible importance. I remember digs with my father and my grandfather. Three generations of archeologists, always searching for the truth. I hear the voice of my father, a pragmatist, reminding me that meaning from the past can only be seen through the lens of the present. Time travel is impossible, for the mind and body both. And my grandfather, a dreamer, believes in magic. Why else would he have given me my name?

There is something inside me now, something that has always been there. It is the magic of my name, the magic of Meyöt, just waiting for the right moment. And I sense that I have always possessed this name, from a time before I was born, from a time before even my grandfather was born.

But this makes no sense.

And yet, the power of my name seems to stretch across millennia.

3. Journey

I turn over on my side, the cot creaking underneath me, and look at the jade inscription I hold in my hands. It is somewhat ovoid, containing a central dot, almost like a target. I had often thought that it was more of a spatial marker than a word, until we found the tablet and discovered that it was only one in a series of hieroglyphs. And there are many other passages etched in other locations throughout the dig site. On jade and obsidian, granite and copper.

But right now I feel the need to focus on this piece of jade. There is something hidden within the deep green sea of it, something powerful, something aching to be revealed. It is like…

…our names, given to us at the dawn of time, hold the answers. For they are not just our names, but the names of something greater, like the facets of a gemstone the size of the world. They are the names that carry the power of creation; of love, peace, and belonging. Together they form a harmony that must never be forgotten. Especially now, with the discord of darkness fast approaching. Our city is not safe. We must journey forth into the unknown, seeking a new home, a new place to secure our understanding, until some future time.

God, it's happening again. It's like I'm splitting in two. I roll over onto my back, straining the cot, and I shut my eyes. Whose names? What names? Only, I can still feel the piece of jade. I am holding it with both hands against my chest, and the weight of it seems to press against my very soul. It speaks to me, although it does not use normal words. What it says it says with urgency, and as I listen my surroundings come alive.

The ground begins to shake, as if there were a great, sustained earthquake. The lantern overhead sways in dangerous circles. The mirror on my hutch falls and shatters, and I fall too. Out of my cot and onto my knees. With a death grip on the piece of jade, I exit the tent in a crawling run. Outside, I see none of the other workers, but what I do see sends chills down my spine.

The sky to the west is black. And I don't mean with heavy clouds. It is like the night sky, only without the stars or any glimpse of the moon. It is as if the world is being erased.

The earth's trembling subsides but never completely stops. I look about the camp for any sign of my fellow diggers, but there is none to be found. It's as if they've all disappeared, and I am alone.

Then I see my jeep in the light to the east. It is time to go.

4. Collapse

I drive fast and far, along the rugged road away from the dig site towards civilization, but for some reason I cannot recall the name of the city beyond the nearby hills. It is as if I've nowhere to go but away, as if my destination is being erased just as thoroughly as the land and sky behind me.

I peer down at the gas gauge. It flutters on empty. I'm never going to make it over the hills. I'm sure of it. And yet, what else can I do but drive? I press the accelerator to the floor, as if my will alone is strong enough to get me where I want to go.

The road I am on is illuminated by some sourceless light. I feel it more than see it and know within the pit of my soul that if I can just maintain my inner sense of direction all will be well. Somehow.

Then the darkness starts to stretch over the sun itself, and I lose my way. My jeep slows, sputtering on fumes, and I turn it off the road. I coast over the rocky terrain only to dip down into a shallow ravine. The engine seizes up, and so does my heart.

Craning my neck to look up at the sky, I see that the darkness has moved past the sun. Yet, somehow, the sun still shines. Dim and with a sickly green tint, it is the only source of light. I can barely make out the contours of the jeep I am sitting in, and fear wells up inside me. This is no ordinary fear. It is thick like syrup, and it runs down my spine, oozing inexorably towards the end of time…

We have failed! We are lost! The patterns are gone, and there is nothing more to follow. Not even our names can save us from this darkness.

I cough, feeling a pressure in my throat, as if the pellet of light I inhaled in my dream is trying to come back up. Suddenly, I want water, so I search the back of the jeep for the bottle I keep there, but it is nowhere to be found. As I am reaching, two things happen at once. I feel the pressure of my grandfather's jade fragment in my pants pocket, where I had placed it while running for the jeep, and I see a crate there, in the back, that wasn't there before.

Desperately curious, I scramble for a flashlight in the glove compartment and use a shovel to pry open the wooden crate. Inside, I am shocked to find the jade tablet, with a scribbled note on top. The note reads, "I've broken the code! – Pedro".

And then I see the notebook.

5. Understanding

This is it, Meyöt! The symbols on the tablet are pronounced like so:

Hapna shuü-da meyöt kin fahl nut ho-da mahjope.

And here's the translation:

"All destinations can only be found in the here and now, where the truth of things resides forever in the cup of self."

Didn't know your name meant something, did you? Well, it means HERE AND NOW, WITHIN!!

Here and now, within? Is Pedro having me on? It seems impossible to me that he could have broken the language so quickly, or that he could have cobbled together so eloquent a translation. But impossible seems to be the order of the day, considering…

The darkness has engulfed everything, now. I can no longer see any sign of the sun. The only light in my universe streams from the flashlight I hold in my hand, shining on the notebook, the crate, and the tablet of jade resting inside. Have I completely lost my mind? What the hell is happening to me?

And with that thought, my flashlight flickers and dies.

Meyöt? How can it be? How can my name be on a tablet thousands of years old? How can it be?

I sit in silence, with no light to see by, and my eyes close as my mind turns inward.

Who am I?

I begin to feel a pressure deep within. Something is stirring inside me.

I see without my eyes. The depression in the tablet pulls at my hand. I reach forward and place the piece of jade where it belongs, where it has always been. My stomach grumbles, digesting something I never swallowed. There is a turning inside. My bones shift and pop, coming into new alignment, and a warm flood of energy courses up my spine.

Everything is illuminated.

Everything.

I am Meyöt. I am here, now. This is the truth that must be saved, and I am that truth. My name is one of many, for many names comprised the gem of our lost civilization, long ago. We were beings of light, and that light was made manifest through us, as it is now being made manifest through me.

I am the center of the wheel. I am the here and now.

All of my life has led to this moment. All of my life is this moment.

From this slice of eternity, my understanding stretches beyond time. I see who I have been, I see every incarnation, one after the other, and each one carries the seed of knowledge that is…

…Meyöt.

Here is all there is, in the time that is now.

Babel

Pattern Path: Meyöt's Way