Ben's Unity


John L. Waters


Use down arrow or vertical scroll bar

to view whole page!


Ben's Unity


John L. Waters


January 29, 2001


Copyright 2001 by John L. Waters. All Rights

Reserved

-------------------------------------------------------


While out on a jog along the beach it occurred to Ben

that he'd passed over a very large number of sand

grains. Next he realized that since his fetal heart

started beating he'd experienced a very large number

of heartbeats.


It was a bright morning in mid-July, the perfect day

for Ben to enjoy the beach wearing nothing except his

socks, his running shoes, his briefs and his blue

shorts. The college student felt so energetic! He

thought of running a hundred miles.


The blond twenty-year-old glanced out over the water

and felt his vision being drawn to the thin line where

sky and water meet. "Blue is blue." he thought, as he

felt each foot pound the moist beach, left, right,

left, right, one, two, one, two, three, four, five,

six, seven, and on and on the man went, feeling more

numbers come. He continued counting his footfalls.


As Ben reached three thousand twenty four, with an

audible pop an oily blob struck him on his right

biceps. The student broke his stride and the numbers

stopped coming.


"Seagull shit." he muttered. The thin blond picked

up some moist sand in his left hand, rubbed off the

turd and rinsed his hand in the surf. Then he began

running again.


A hundred yards down the beach Ben thought about his

own shit and how he had to take a number of bites and

chew a brick of cheese thoroughly as he ate it. Then

he thought about the number of globules of fat in one

eight ounce glass of whole milk. Ben realized that

everything is made up of a number of smaller things

like his own body is made up of billions of tiny

cells. Then he thought of his brain and about his

consciousness. And he wondered why he'd never thought

much about counting numbers before.


The wharf at Oceanside was fifty yards to the south

when Ben thought again that blue is blue. He saw a

blue Corvette and a blue Mustang parked in a crowded

lot in amongst red cars, black cars, and cars of other

colors. Then Ben saw a blue beach umbrella and a tall

brunette woman dressed in a blue bathing suit. He

recalled his own shorts. He saw the sky and the water

and thought the third time that blue is blue.


It was seventy two minutes after Ben had started

running before he realized that the color blue is

defined by counting the rhythmic beats produced by the

emitter of the blue light. "Our eyes seeing blue are

just counting the number of vibrations in the light we

see as blue," the student muttered. Then Ben thought

of a musical note as he heard the siren of a distant

police car. "It's the same with hearing." he mused.

"Our ears are counters. Subconsciously,

unconsciously, we're just arithmeticians. What we

sense is the number of things." Then a short poem by

Robert Louis Stevenson rang in his head:


"The world is so full of a number of things, I think

we should all be as happy as kings."


Still within sight of the Wharf, Ben's left shoe

struck a half-buried cobblestone. He stumbled and

fell.


He was three hundred yards from the nearest person.

Tensing his left leg in an effort to move caused a

sharp pain to shoot up to his hip. He lay still and

felt the water soaking through his shorts. He'd never

fallen on a run before.


After five minutes Ben managed to stand and hobble

eastward to the base of a hundred foot cliff. The man

sat down and leaned back. The shale was sharp, and he

had no shirt to protect his back. He took off his

shoes and his shorts and made a pad to rest his back

against. His briefs shone white against the brown of

his suntanned legs and belly.


Ben had been resting there for twenty-seven minutes

when a crow lit down and started hopping in his

direction. Ben counted the hops. Thinking diverted

the young man from his pain and his predicament. The

bird executed forty-three hops and then flew away.


Ben put his shorts back on and walked a hundred and

ten feet closer to the water. He lay down on the sand

face up. The student leaned his head on his running

shoes placed with the soles flat against the sand.

This made a soft cushion. Ben gazed up into heaven's

vault.


As Ben lay on the warm sand he thought about how it

felt when he was running. He knew he couldn't feel

that way again that day. His pain was still

considerable. But warm sand and bright sunshine were

a comfort. He thought he'd better thumb a ride back,

and pay the generous person after they got back to his

car. With the main problem solved in theory, and

aware from the position of the sun that it was about

noon, Ben told himself not to worry. He relaxed and

let heavenly warmth soothe his body.


For two hours Ben lay basking. He envisioned a boy

learning to count by hopping like a crow and reciting

the number names in the correct order. "But that's

not recognizing unity enough," Ben said to himself.

"The human body expresses unity at each hop, same as

the crow's body expresses unity at each hop. But the

crow's unity doesn't get obscured by all those other

number names and by learning how to do arithmetic

problems." Ben suddenly realized that crow was a

teacher he needed to meet, and that stumbling rock was

a guide to help him find that teacher.


"Hey. I understand unity!" Ben almost shouted. Then

Ben stood up, brushed the sand off his legs and arms,

and looked up the beach.


The closest people, almost a thousand feet away,

walked bird-like near the Pavilion and the Wharf.

Heat rising off sand and pavement set them all

shimmering in a mirage. Ben began walking slowly in

that direction. But he didn't count his steps.


7:46PM Friday, January 26, 2001


John L. Waters

johnlwaters@yahoo.com


The information on this page represents that of John Waters and not

necessarily that of Humboldt State University. John Waters takes full

responsibility for the information presented.


This page is maintained by: John Waters