Knowledge

Chapter 1 - Knowledge

          Countless doors stood at attention lining each side of a long dark regal hallway. Polished wooden floors inlayed with gold led visitors up and down the 100 meter corridor. Threaded high along the vaulted ceiling were spectacular chandeliers which gave only a minimum requirement of light. Along the walls, balconies without the convenience of stairs hosted doors in the absence of windows. At the far end of the corridor, a mirror nearly the entire width and height of the wall offered a disorienting reversed reflection. There was no grand ballroom for dining; no terrarium or courtyard. This hallway was both destination and place of origin: beginning and end; unashamed of its place in a world of deception, as cold and inviting as sin.
          Most of the souls in this place wander carelessly about, opening and closing unlocked doors at random, like unattended children instinctively compelled to press every button in an elevator. Very few here know why some doors are locked while others are left open. Perhaps locked doors protect the contents within, or perhaps the naïve sojourner without. Heaven only knows how desperately hope needs to be protected. These souls, unaware of their unique purpose, are often accompanied by guardians; ordinary beings of no noticeable relation inspired to insure the potential of those placed in their care. Guardians prevent doors from being entered for which an adventurer may not be prepared, as well as identify beneficial rooms, which is very helpful in a place where everything has its prerequisite.
          Not all of the doors are easily managed. The door to wealth appears to be out of reach, and romance is protected by a moat. And, while there are many doors indirectly marking the entrances to the room of popularity (even though those who strive to be remembered are hardly worth remembering), this, like so many rooms, is a very difficult place to leave.
          In the midst of quiet chaos stood a certain child still and alone peering down at his own bare feet. The child heard the following words whispered hauntingly as if to say it is time to begin.

“Caution. Turn your ear and heed,
For behind each door hides a curse.
There even knowledge or wisdom can lead
To the darkest of places or worse.”

          The child began to wander through the dimly lit hall back to what seemed to be the beginning. There at the end of the hall one white door stood distinctively apart from the rest. The other doors boasted ornately carved wood, stained to magnify their natural beauty with knobs of crystal and gold. The white door, however, was rather plain with panels and an unpolished brass knob. The child’s innocent nature, too untouched and inexperienced to be persuaded or impressed by appearances, led him toward the simple. Never more willing and able to believe, he walked to the white door raised both hands to the knob and twisted back and forth until it unlatched.
          “I’ve never seen anyone come back out of that one,” said an unusually attractive teenage girl as she stepped casually out of the darkness.
          There was a gentle knock at the white door from the opposite side. Startled, the child released the knob, “Is there someone behind this door?” the child asked.
          “It’s hard to tell in a hallway like this. Everything echoes around here.”
          “Nonsense,” said an older boy interrupting from the shadows. He was less attractive than the girl, but possessed an encouraging spirit. “I’m called Braden.”
          “I saw him first,” said the girl playfully. “I’m Nina. Are you alone?”
          “I wouldn’t answer that if I were you,” said Braden. “Go ahead child, take a closer look.”
          The child’s small open hands studied the white door. His eyes remained fixed while his head turned slowly toward Braden. Unable to verbalize the question, he bit his lip.
          “If you’re wise you won’t trust either of us,” Braden replied.
The child stepped away from the door and looked up to neatly arranged scratches in an upper panel. “What does it say?”
          Nina responded without looking, “It says, ‘Who is Jesus and why did He die?’”
          “What else does it say?”
          “Clever child,” responded Braden. “It says,

‘The Way, the Truth and the Life;
The path to heaven’s eternity:
Who is the savior Jesus,
And why did He die for me?’”

          After Braden read the writing completely, a soft knock resounded again with a calming power of distant thunder.
          “Who is knocking?”
          “It’s the Key of keys to the Door of doors,” replied Braden reverently.
          “Oh, like the poor child is going to understand that. Are you hungry child?” Nina paused for a response that didn’t come then asked, “What’s your name? You do have a name?”
          “Yes.”
          “Yes you’re hungry or yes you have a name?” asked Braden.
          “I feel empty.” The child said and then paused to think. “I don’t have a name.”
          “We can’t have that.” Nina said, as her face contorted from a serious study of the child’s outer appearance.
          “I don’t see why I need a name.”

         “Why, without a name you have nothing to invest in.” Braden corrected. “Without a name, we’ll have to resort to saying, ‘hey you’ and waiving our arms about whenever we need your attention. It’s quite a lot to ask of us. Don’t you think?”
          “Can I have a name later? I’m hungry.”
          “Then let’s find you something to eat.” Nina said and swept the child away from the white door while Braden followed closely behind. She ushered the child past other curious wanderers of all ages, shapes and sizes. In the distance ahead a boy who appeared to be 12 years of age cautiously opened a door, entered and closed the door behind himself. As the trio passed, the child noticed a plaque above the door.
          “Where does that door go?”
          “It’s the door to might.” Nina answered.
          “What is might?” asked the child.
          “It’s power,” said Nina reverently.
          “Do you know what endurance is?” Braden added.
          The child didn’t know how to respond. He instinctively nodded his head yes, but his façade didn't persuade Nina and Braden, so he changed the direction of his nod to say no.
          “Might is being able to be strong over and over again.” answered Braden.
          “I don’t understand.”
          “It’s alright. You will.” Nina comforted.
          The child turned back and noticed another boy exiting from the same room that the 12-year-old boy had just entered. It was difficult to see anything with clarity from the distance, but the boy who just returned and the boy who had just left could have been related. The new boy wheeled himself out in a chair and was different than the other boy; older. The child stared at the dark silhouette of the crippled boy even after the image faded into obscurity.
          “Here we are,” Nina announced.
          “Food?”
          “Like nothing you’ve ever imagined.” Nina assured.
          “Could you please read what it says?” the child asked Braden.

“Knowledge shows where we are in the process,
With answers great men fall.
Questions however, reveal where we’re headed,
And whether we’re moving or stalled.”

          “This is the door to knowledge?” asked the child.
          “The one and only,” Nina replied. “You sound disappointed.”
          “I don’t understand.”
          “That’s curious,” said Braden.” The writing on this door cautions; not at all what you’d expect.”
          “What could be harmful about knowledge?” disarmed Nina. “After all, it’s what every caregiver insists on, isn’t it?”
         The child looked up to Braden for reassurance, and was answered by shrugged shoulders as if to say, “Why not?”
          “You said we were going to find something to eat,” groaned the child.
          “I may not tell you what you want to hear, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.” Then Nina insisted, “So what are you waiting for? Go on in.”
          The child placed both hands on the door knob and turned it clockwise. “It’s not locked,” the child said anxiously.
          Nina stood closely behind without touching the child as if to block a potential retreat. She charmed softly into the child’s ear. “There is nothing necessary for knowledge. It’s available to anyone willing to learn.”
          The child opened the door and entered an enormous oval shaped library. An expansive opening in the ceiling revealed floor on top of floor. A staircase followed the contour of the wall diagonally upward. Not knowing what to do, the child walked the vast distance to the center of the room and tried to take it all in. Like a flea in the midst of a great canyon he thought, “I’ve never seen so much of anything. Where do I start?”
          A faint aroma in the air reminded him of his hunger and led him back toward the wall of books. As he approached the wall, the scent led him to the books themselves. The child stroked a book with his finger and touched his finger to his tongue. It tasted like candy and powered sugar. He brought the book to his mouth and sucked the corner and then took a small bite. The tough bubble gum texture soon softened and melted in his mouth like warm honey. After he had eaten the first book he noticed that his hunger increased. He ate another sweet tasting book and then another. But as his hunger continued to grow he became bored with the candy flavored books and moved to the next level in the library which contained books that tasted of buttered French toast and pure maple syrup. The child moved from one level to another consuming bitter and potent, combinations of every spice, but nothing truly to his taste. He ate the useless and destructive along with the insightful and the clever, climbing ever upward until he reached the top. It was there he found reason to pause. Of all the combinations of textures and flavors, the one most to his liking was the taste of music. It was order through perfect simplicity with endless possibilities: Expression without words able to give the illusion that it could transcend even language: the power to alter direction, attitude and emotion without physical force. The child now ate enthusiastically with an unquenchable hunger. Finally, when he realized his appetite would never be satisfied, he stopped. It became apparent that the more frequently he ate, the hungrier he became while his hunger dissipated the less frequently he ate and nearly disappeared when he stopped eating altogether. “What a very strange place,” he thought.
          The child sat on the floor with all of his new vast intellectual resources and thought it odd that nothing came to mind. No strategy based on the combination of theories, theorems and postulations that he had consumed were able to move a muscle much less bring him to his feet. Simultaneously content and discontent, as if being both satisfied and hungry cancelled each other out. He felt a strange weight pressing him downward. He lied down on his side and waited for something; a reason to react or feel or consider. He closed his eyes and instantly the floor beneath him began to dissolve into a powder. A strong wind began to lift the floor, books, shelves and walls like dust into the air. The particles were vacuumed into a whirlwind, leaving the child suspended while the world within the room rotated round about him. He couldn’t tell if he was falling or being lifted upward. In an instant the deafening noise cadenced and the turbulence of the encompassing storm imploded into the space of a small closet. He found himself confined in the midst of the debris that had congealed into sludge hardly able to move. He thought about the possibility of eating his way out but the dust gave off a rancid stench as if to answer a thankless and wasteful heart. He groped about until he recognized the door in front of him. He found the knob and tried to turn it just as he had done when he first opened it from the outside, but it would not budge.
          “Is there a key?” he thought. He struggled to knock on the door hoping that someone would assist, but the thick slush restricted his movement. He tried scratching the door and then grabbing the knob and shaking it to signal someone to open it from the outside. He called out until his voice was spent. Finally, after he had exhausted every physical option, he remembered where he was: the room of knowledge. He inventoried what he knew, and sorted into categories what he liked and what he didn’t and what interested him and what didn’t, and why. “I have lots of answers, but what good are they here and now?” Suddenly, the child remembered the door’s warning: ‘…with answers great men fall. Questions however, reveal where we’re headed and whether we’re moving or stalled.’ “The right question is clearly more important than the right answer,” the child observed. “If it’s not about the facts, maybe it’s about the process of processing the facts. After all this, what have I learned about learning?” Then he thought again about his hunger and how unusual it was that the more he learned the hungrier for knowledge he became.
          “Eating with the body is a physical act,” he reasoned. “Consuming with my mind is a spiritual act. Eating physical food quenches my physical hunger, but if I eat spiritual food, it stimulates my spiritual appetite. The physical and the spiritual are polar opposites.” As he came to the inevitable conclusion, the change in his countenance was immediate and sure, yet slightly embarrassed considering the answer had never been hidden from him. “I’m on the inside. Could it be that simple?” He turned the knob counter clockwise. The door opened effortlessly. He pressed himself through the gelatinous dust to find Nina and Braden waiting in almost the same position they were in when he left. He had aged 7 years, and now appeared to be 13 years old. Nina coaxed him to his feet. He was exhausted yet surprisingly calm.
          “Look at you. Incredible. Did you see that?” said Nina now looking at the boy nearly eye to eye having herself not aged a day. “Weren’t you scared?”
          “I don’t think so. Frustrated I suppose,” replied the boy. “Interesting sensation though.”
          “You’re telling me that didn’t scare you? He’s brave too.”
          “There’s a big difference between bravery and not knowing what you have to lose. He’ll just have to learn fear someplace else.” Braden commented to himself..
          “You maintained your hunger for a long time,” continued Nina. “Imagine how smart he could become. Knowledge is power.”
          “Knowledge is knowledge, nothing more, and dangerous when misused,” warned Braden. “Without purpose it’s useless and when used without humility will produce arrogance and isolation.”
          “But he’s such a good learner. It would be a shame if he didn’t achieve his potential because you think he might turn into a snob.”
          Braden turned toward Nina abruptly. The stern look on his face forced Nina to retreat a few steps away from the boy. Braden scolded Nina with a controlled piercing tone. “The more knowledge someone has, the less likely they’ll enter the white door. That was too much, too soon.”
          “What’s done is done.” Nina said victoriously and broke away. “I don’t see your concern. He can enter your door whenever he wants. It’s always there.”
          “Son,” Braden said earnestly. “The choices you make now effect you as well as everything and everyone around you. What you do becomes a principality, and what it sets into motion will not die with you when your time is come. They grow as seeds into trees and from trees into forests. Please be cautious. Knowledge has no power to change the behavior of the sons of men.”
          “Then what will?” asked the boy.
          “Finding the truth, believing in it with all your heart and acting upon it.” instructed Braden.
          “What do you hunger for boy?” Nina interrupted.
          “I don’t know anymore. What should I do?” the child asked Braden.
          “You can’t answer that,” blocked Nina.
          “If I told you what to do it would only be more clutter for your mind, and it’s important that you know why you are doing what you’re doing. Even if what I suggest is true, no one comes to know the truth through believing in teachers like us, and I don’t want you believing in me. There’s only one worthy of that trust.
          “The one who knocks?” asked the boy.
          “Yes.”
          “Far too serious here,” interrupted Nina. “You haven’t experienced anything yet. You’ve only just begun to explore. Not to mention that that pale door isn’t for someone like us, not yet. The next thing old stick-in-the-mud is going to tell you, is you need to set up boundaries, which are obstacles to the very opportunities we’re talking about. Fun. Opportunities to do whatever you want. You’re free. What’s wrong with experiencing the fullness of that freedom?”
          The child looked at Braden for advice.
          “The decision must be yours alone.”
          “What’s wrong with having a little fun?” asked the boy.
          Nina beamed, “I know just the place.”