I began laughing softly to myself at the ridiculous nature of my predicament. I was a perfect example of micro man who sees himself as limited, inadequate, and doomed to ultimate failure.
I searched my mind for hope, a way out.
One of the greatest Personal Evolution tutors of all time said, "Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be opened."
He couldn't have put it much stronger. And, of course, he also said, "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed you can move mountains."
That's all right for Macro giants, I thought, but how the devil do micro midgets like myself ever get up enough faith to even ask, much less. move mountains?
But... if I want help-really want help-how could I have selected a better environment than the Macro society? Obviously they knew and understood far more than I did. Maybe they even knew how to help me become a giant, too, so I could live with them on an equal basis... maybe.
My thoughts were interrupted by Karl insisting that I get up and join him for breakfast.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost eight-thirty. "Hey, Karl!" I called. "How come you're not in class this morning?"
His fuzzy black hair preceded his face around the doorway-he always wore it natural. "You've really lost track of it all with your shuffling back and forth 174 years every night. It's Sunday here in 1976, and if you try real hard you'll remember that this micro roommate inhabiting this micro society doesn't work on Sunday, he just goofs off all day."
"Okay, okay," I said. "You'll find me very humble this morning. I've been dreaming about just how micro I really am. I'll be right with you."
A few minutes later I was sitting across from Karl at the breakfast table telling him about my latest experiences in 2150. Somehow as I talked to Karl my depression lifted and I became hopeful again.
It was a long breakfast because I seemed to. have an awful lot to say and Karl seemed to have even more than his usual number of questions. He was particularly interested in the other members of my Alpha and in my description of Rana. He kept asking me for more detailed descriptions and I began to realize that after I had used up all my personality superlatives I didn't have much more to say about them.
Finally Karl said, "You know, Jon, it seems to me that you're describing gods and goddesses, and not the ancient Greek or Roman variety, either, because they all had their share of weaknesses or imperfections. Not so with these you– describe. Tell me, are these people really that perfect, or are you just demonstrating your lack of Macro awareness?"
"You're right, Karl," I admitted. "That's my problem. They appear so perfect, so superhuman that I can't see how I could ever be like them. And I can't imagine how I could be happy for very long being a midget among giants for the rest of my life, either.
"In other words, Jon, you've found the snake in your garden of Eden... and it's you!"
"Well," I said reluctantly, "I hadn't thought of it quite that way, but I guess you're right. It was the poison of my own self-doubt that made me want to run away from 2150 and its impossible challenges."
"Are you saying that you're ready to give up your dream world?" Karl asked.
I realized that I wanted to avoid the question. I didn't want to have to answer it. I said, "I don't know how to answer you right now. All I really want to do is get drunk and forget the whole problem."
"You what!" Karl's face was lined with concern. "Is it that bad, Jon?"
Karl knew that I had only been drunk once in my life, back in Vietnam. "No, not really, Karl. Nothing is that bad except living in a world where killing women, old folks, and children is a patriotic duty. No, I'm not going to get drunk. I'm going to write it all down. Maybe that will help clear my mind. Then I'm going to do a lot of thinking."
For the rest of the day Karl left me to myself while I wrote in my journal and did a lot of very hard thinking.
By late evening I had a much better realization of the strength of my micro self, which sounded like a drum beating out the refrain, "I can't, I can't, I can't."
These old habitual limiting thought patterns were so easy to disguise, to ignore, or to rationalize away. And yet, in moments of crisis, micro man (myself) must reap the consequences of his limiting beliefs-failure.
Strangely, however, my long struggle to confront myself honestly left me feeling hopeful. Again I was joyfully looking forward to returning to the Macro society of the future. I had again discovered that if I was honest with myself, and refused to run away from a difficult self-confrontation, I would sooner or later see a balanced picture in which there was both light and dark. It's not easy to see both sides of a coin from a micro, one-sided view.
Just before I went to bed, Karl finished reading my journal and, without saying a word, walked over to me. Tears glazed his eyes, which shocked me, knowing how Karl hated sentimental weakness, which included masculine tears. Then, obviously too caught up with feeling to speak, he took my left hand with his, hesitated a moment, then put his right hand gently on my face.
Before I could collect myself, Karl was noisily running the water in the bathroom with a closed door between us. I thought again how difficult it was-in our micro society to deal openly and honestly with our thoughts and emotions. We were taught to be ashamed of such large portions of our minds that we devoted whole lifetimes to denying them, thus depriving ourselves of some of the greatest joys available to man.
Later, as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard Karl call across our darkened room to me. "Good luck," he said. Then after a pause, "I believe in you, Jon."
I murmured my thanks and decided that the hardest thing for micro man to do was to believe in himself. But then, how can anyone believe in himself when there is so much of himself that he condemns?
My last thoughts before dropping off to sleep involved a conclusion that before I could ask for help, I had to believe that success was possible. That meant I had to accept and believe in myself as unlimited except by my own thoughts.
CHAPTER 8: Macro Contact
I awakened again in 2150 with the wetness of tears still on my face and the sound of Rana's voice saying, "He's returning."
Opening my eyes I surprised a look of worry and concern on Carol's face. But, turning my gaze to Rana, I found again the wondrously serene and confident expression that was oddly at variance with the almost electrical excitement or joy that seemed to radiate from her. Now her eyes became even more brilliant as she smiled at me.
"There, you see," she said, "you've already discovered that at least your Alpha mate isn't perfect. She's demonstrating concern and worry, which are always a reflection of something less than total Macro awareness."
I reached over and touched Carol's face as Rana continued, "You're learning some of our customs very quickly. It won't be long now before you'll be seeing occasional imperfections in the rest of your Alpha members."
"Will I ever be able to see them in you?" I asked.
She laughed and said, "You won't see me looking worried or becoming upset over any of the problems you're struggling with right now. However, until I am totally macrocosmically aware, there will always be greater lessons for me to learn."
"You mean," I said, "that there are problems that bother even you?"
"That which is a problem to the child with one year is no longer a problem when that child has had three years," she answered. "Yet the three-year level has its own problems, most of which are not even perceived by the child with just one year. And so it goes, with level seven problems not apparent to a level three. Be assured, though, that every level has its challenges. Seen as problems, they become increasingly more complex, more difficult. Seen as elected opportunities for growth, they are a joy to solve, to deal with effectively, to grow from in this game of life."