SHORT STORY

The Emptiness Twins

Let Go and Cease

Photo by Cassie Boca on Unsplash

Mrs. Emptiness was pregnant with twins.

The gestation period for emptinesses borders on eternity, but does pull up a little short of that, so the happy day did eventually (although very, very eventually) arrive.

Thus were born Let Go and Cease, loving though rivaling twins.

From the beginning, it was clear that Let Go was the less serious of the two. After all, he was the nephew of Who Cares and Leave Be; their favorite nephew I should add.

Cease, on the other hand, was grim in a sort-of-final, doomsday way, a thing Let Go often made fun of, mimicking her doomsday frowns while trying to keep from laughing.

Well, with one aunt named Lady Gloom and another named Desist, what would you expect?

If Let Go had a message for the world it was, “Don’t worry, be happy.”

If Cease had a message for the world it was, “Do worry, it might not end soon enough.”

If Let Go had another message for the world, it would be, “Let go of all your worries and tribulations, tomorrow will take good care of them.”

If Cease had another message for the world, it would be, “If you don’t stop doing all this nonsense right now you’ll be sorry.”

People would listen to Let Go. They rarely gave Cease more than a fleeting ear, soon to turn elsewhere.

Still, beyond the rivalry, they loved each other, as twins often do, and at times, sitting side by side on some mountain ledge somewhere, they had trouble telling where one of them ended and the other began.

“You shouldn’t take me so seriously,” said Let Go. “I’m only yanking your chain.”

“I know,” said Cease, “but you do it so well I cannot help but flush.”

“Cease,” said Let Go. Surprised. Delighted. “You made a joke.”

Cease was actually blushing (perhaps from the flushing). “Not a very good one, though.”

“A great one,” said Let Go.

A tinge of pride crept into Cease’s blush.

Then they did not say anything for, well, for a very, very long time. Just sat there, contemplating the valley below, and the people rushing hither and yon ranting, stealing, buying, selling, funning themselves as best they could.

After a very, very, very long time Let Go said, “I feel sorry for them.”

“I do, too,” said Cease.

Mother Emptiness, who usually does not concern herself about anything, worried a little about Cease. Of course, emptiness was part of her daughter’s DNA, still, watching her sing her plaintive hymns of giving it all up, sooner rather than later, for true emptiness — the empty pre-universe potential whence we all came — wrenched her motherly heart: the girl was taking this too seriously. Too many were not only not turning up the volume the better to hear her, but they were changing the station to escape her doom and gloom.

One day Mother Emptiness asked Let Go what he thought could be done, and should be done, to pull Cease out of the dim view of things.

“But she’s right, of course,” said Let Go.

“Oh, I know,” said Emptiness, “but, surely, there is something we can do about her bone rattling.”

“Bone rattling?”

“Preaching death and the near end of the universe and everything. All the time. And when was the last time you saw her smile?”

“Uh, never.”

“My point, precisely.”

“I’ve tried to joke with her. Even made her make a joke.”

“You did?” Mrs. Emptiness truly surprised.

“Once.”

“Once?”

“Once.”

“I wish I had been there to hear that. Was it a funny joke?”

“No, not really. You kinda had to have been there.”

“One of those.”

“Yup.” Then Let Go mused, “We both want the same thing, of course. We’re just trying to help.”

“I know.”

“She’s just a little more direct about it.”

“I know that, too.”

What did Let Go mean by that?

Mrs. Emptiness and all her children are very aware of Maya, some call it Samsara, the apparent world that has everybody’s knickers tied in a knot. It is, as the sages tell us, continuously maintained by a trillion, trillion little egos working hard night and day to agree the universe in place and to keep it in place. Without it, where would they be? What could they possibly buy? Or watch on television?

All those little egos are not aware of willing Maya into existence, of course, that’s the cleverest Maya sleight-of-hand imaginable. Up there with the Devil convincing people he does exist.

To convince all those little egos to stop willing Maya into her continued existence, they first have to be aware of doing it, of course; aware of holding on to it (which is how they accomplish the willing bit); only once they know they’re holding on can they let go.

Telling a trillion, trillion egos to stop doing it, no matter how loudly, doesn’t quite fly, Let Go is very aware of that, Cease is not.

Let Go takes his ques from his uncles Who Cares and Leave Be, and approaches his mission (which he shares with Cease, of course) gently, reminding the egos every now and then not to grip too tightly, not to crave too hard. To ease up a little, kind of let go a little bit.

Cease only listens to her aunts Lady Gloom and (especially) Desists, as she climbs up on her soap box and yells for one and all to STOP. NOW.

“Stop what?” they want to know. “And why are you yelling?”

“Stop keeping the universe in place. And I’m not yelling.”

“You are.”

Cease ignores this and keeps yelling.

One evening, Mrs. Emptiness asked Cease to come see her, and being a dutiful daughter she came, of course.

“Mom?”

“Sit down, child. I want to tell you a story.”

“Sure.”

Cease sat down and looked up at her Mom in anticipation. Frowning, though, as usual.

This is the story.

Once upon a time Sister Sun and Brother North Wind made a bet. No money was involved, only pride.

“See that man down there, making his way through the autumn fields, in his coat and jacket and cap and rubber boots?” said Sister Sun.

“Sure,” said Brother North Wind.

“I bet you anything that I can get him to remove his coat and jacket and cap faster than you can.”

“Ha,” said Brother North Wind. That’s not even a fair bet. I’d beat you by a country mile.

“You go first,” said Sister Sun.

And first he went, filling his enormous cloud with all the wind south of the North Pole, and then began his onslaught.

The man, quite comfortable before the wind picked up noticed the chill and noticed the strength and then buttoned all his buttons and hung on to the coat collar, tightening it against the wind.

And as the wind increased and the chill increased he pulled his cap down further over his ears and then tightened his coat belt to keep even warmer.

And as the wind increased and the chill increased the man sat down, hunkering against the storm, pulling the coat hood over his cap and head and clutching his coat ever closer, embracing himself against the assault.

Brother North Wind drew another, even deeper breath and unleashed an even greater storm upon the man, who now lay down, burrowing into the ground among the grasses and roots and holding on for dear life. He had never experienced anything like this before and wondered whether he would actually make it home alive.

Brother North Wind tried again and was met with the same curious lack of success. Finally, he gave up.

“That man is crazy,” he pronounced.

“My turn, then?” said Sister Sun.

“Sure.”

And now that the winds returned to the nowhere whence they had risen, the man sat up, looked around, and deemed it safe to rise again. He unfastened his coat belt and undid his coat hood and resumed walking.

And here came Sister Sun, harnessing the warmest of spring shines, so warm it fooled some butterflies to escape their cocoons far too soon, so warm it fooled some birds to start singing again.

So warm that the man removed his cap and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. So warm that the man removed his coat, and then his jacket for this unusual springlike weather was the warmest he’d ever experienced this time of year.

And then he started singing a song about spring and made good time for his home and wife and children.

“Hm,” said Brother North Wind.

Sister Sun just smiled.

“What are you telling me, Mom,?” said Cease, though she kinda got the drift.

“I am saying that Let Go is Sister Sun and you are Brother North Wind.”

“Hm,” said Cease. “That’s not very nice.”

“But true,” said Mrs. Emptiness.

“Hm,” said Cease.

“You cannot bludgeon these people into letting go of their grasping. You have to finesse it a little. Get the people to work with you, not against you. They always resist being bludgeoned and always love being stroked and cuddled.”

“Stroked and cuddled? You mean like Let Go does?”

“More or less,” said Mrs. Emptiness. “Perhaps a little less so for you, but that’s the idea, the direction you’ll have to take with these people.”

“Desist would not agree.”

“Desist is a sour old woman who has failed a lot longer than you have, and would rather have you fail, too.”

“Mom!”

“No, I’m not kidding.”

The next time Let Go ran into Cease he drew a deep breath and then said, very loudly, bordering on yelling, “You have got to STOP all this yelling.”

Cease, like all other beings, did not appreciate being yelled at so she yelled right back. “What right do you have to tell me what to do? And why are you yelling?”

“I just want to make sure that you hear me.”

“I hear you.”

“So stop, will you.”

“Stop what precisely?”

“Stop telling people to stop.”

“But they have to stop. It’s just common sense.”

“I know, but you must stop yelling that. You cannot yell common sense into someone.”

“But that’s what I do. You may have noticed my name.”

“Try this,” said Let Go. “Come over here and whisper to me to stop yelling at you.”

“Why?”

“Humor me.”

“Okay.”

And so Cease sidled over to her brother and whispered in his left ear, loudly, to stop yelling at her.”

“You call that a whisper,” said Let Go. “Try it again. Tone it down a little.”

This went on for a while, but after six tries Cease’s whisper actually was a whisper.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Let Go. “Good job.”

Cease flushed a little with pride for she loved compliments from her brother.

“Now,” said Let Go. “Try this on people.”

“Too many ears,” said Cease.

“Figure some other way to whisper the truth,” suggested Let Go.

“You mean not bludgeoning.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“Okay, I see what you mean. I will give that a go,” said Cease. And then she smiled for the first time in her life.

© Wolfstuff

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[embed]Wolfstuff So, who am I? Really really. I could tell you that I was born in northern Sweden during a snow storm, and subsequently…wolfstuff.com