Walking to the bottom of the Canyon down the South Kaibob trail is
to walk into the distant past. We see fossils of mussels and seaside
rocks within the Kaibob Sea upon which ancient starfish, anenomes,
and urchins lived. Then we find leaves of an ancient forest fauna
that flourished before the Kaibob Sea was filled. Next, we see trilobites
that swam in the ocean that existed before the forest that was replaced
by the sea. Finally we feel the telltale texture of fossilised algae upon
a rock -- the oldest form of cellular life we will see that day -- and
thought to be one of the most ancient forms of life. Yet we are still just
beginning our voyage; we have barely pierced the depths of the canyon.
For many more hours we walk, but we see no more signs of cellular life.
At the very bottom of the canyon we encounter the solemn enormity of the
jet-black Vishnu Schist -- a rock formation at the bottom thought by some
to be two billion years old.
A voice of light can be heard trying to speak to us. We do not listen.
We are still in the world we said we were trying to leave. I talk to the
others about trivial day-to-day matters, drowning out the voice. We all
ignore our gorgeous and awesome surroundings. Even visually, we still see
the Dark Lands. The Dark Lands oppress us by controlling
our thoughts through our addiction to their conveniences,
their simple-to-comprehend orthogonal angles and their apparently logical
arguments.
After our long journey we have at last arrived in the places of light.
Answers encompass us, easy to see, to pluck from the sky -- but do we
see? No -- our consciousness lurks behind us, lying awake in
the darkness of artificial daily lands that smother us with comforting,
deceptive warmth. Oblivious to the light, we are blinded by our own
chatter.