Mesopotamia - The Redeemer

by Yehuda Israely

  He moved with the agility typical of a thirty-five year old, but his white hair and deep-set eyes gave the impression he was sixty. No one knew his exact age. In fact, the difference between Barman and the rest of the dwellers of the station was not summed up in his looks alone. He was the only non-Pythagorean among all the permanent residents. Four years earlier, Sophia had agreed to Nicomachus's odd request to include him on the staff without asking any questions. The people of the station respected his need for privacy – and soon he became liked by all.

  Sophia sipped her drink. "Oh, this isn't bad at all".

  "Thank you." He wiped the counter distractedly.

  "Barman".

  "Yes, Sophia".

  "What do you do when something is bothering you with no end, not something worrying, but just something, an idea or the chorus of a song, that you can't stop thinking about"?

  He was silent for a long time. In the meantime she finished her drink. He looked into her sparkling eyes and her wide pupils until she looked away in embarrassment. Finally he announced: "There's nothing that can be done for that".

  She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Really, Barman, I thought you knew everything." She teased him.

  "I didn't say I didn't know." He smiled. "I do know".

  "Well, I'm listening".

  "I know there's nothing that can be done. You Pythagoreans are sure you can run the lives of your thoughts. I've got news for you. Your thoughts, or rather your feelings, run your life, and not the other way around. Seriously, just stop fighting it".

  "Is that what you do"?

  Not always. I usually excel in talking, in case you hadn't noticed," he chuckled mockingly. "But when I do decide to do that, it usually works".

  She then got up.

  "Good night, Barman," she smiled at him.

  "Good night… Ascetic," he suppressed a knowing smile.

  After curling up under the blankets, Sophia returned to thinking about the stranger, and fell into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER 5

  It was a day of celebration at the Socratic Academy. More than five hundred students and teachers, among them alumni of the academy who had gathered from all the corners of Dust in their best clothing and perfumes, filled the huge hall and waited for additional lectures in the framework of "The Festival of Knowledge". The Minister of Defense, surrounded by an entourage of assistants and bodyguards, sat in the last row of the hall. Despite how crowded the hall was, the chair next to her was empty.

  'How strong and stubborn is the soul of man,' thought Diotima as she looked at Enosh, her student. She was a tall and thin-limbed woman, who moved with grace and nobility. Only the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth indicated her sixty-five years. Her long, red hair was braided into a metal lacing behind her head. Her freckled face was slightly contradictory to her close-fitting metal suit, and imprinted on her lapel was the comet of the leaders of the planet Dust. She was amused at the look of her old pupil, who was having trouble concentrating in anticipation of his lecture. It was clear that he was nervous. Beads of sweat glistened on his high forehead and he smoothed back his cropped hair with his hand. The blue-grey tailored suit was appropriate to the festive occasion, but it seemed as though he felt uncomfortable. He was used to his loose and faded robes. And still, there was no doubt that Enosh would convey his words precisely and fluently. Like many around her, she was eagerly anticipating his lecture. Despite his many years of training, despite the large and enthusiastic audience who had crowded into the hall and was standing in the aisles, there was still a spark of childishness in Enosh, and he was nervous about the lecture. It touched her heart.

  Diotima ignored the glances of the students who were wandering around the back of the hall, inspecting the teacher's teacher. This was Enosh's lesson, and Diotima was also there to learn. The young students, who had yet to internalize the ancient Socratic wisdom, did not understand that the teacher wishes to learn from her pupil. This knowledge was one of the most important principles among the Socratics. If the student can teach something new to the teacher, this innovation is ten times more important than any formal ranking.

  "The subject of today's lecture is suicide," began Enosh, and all eyes turned to him. He stood by the lectern and cast his gaze above the display on which his lecture was prepared. It had been years since he had read his lecture from the display, and yet he had never freed himself of the need for the presence of a monitor, which he thought of as a sort of crutch.

  "As experts in consciousness and cures for the soul, this is one of the most difficult topics you are required to deal with," he said in a reserved voice, trying to restrain his excitement. "The more opportunities that the abundant Atheistic culture in which we live offers for all sorts of pleasures, the higher the risk of suicide grows. Who can answer me? Why is this"?

  After a hesitant silence one said: "Professor, in the Atheist culture, suicide is prevalent because the challenges that give meaning to life are vanishing".

  "Very good. More".

  "Because without need, it is impossible to properly appreciate pleasure as a basis for life," replied another student.

  "Excellent, more".

  The rest of the students were encouraged to say their ideas, and began to talk all at once: "Because abundance leads to revulsion," "because the survival instinct is dormant," because constant pleasure cancels the need for human connection and without them there's no reason to live".

  "That's very true, you're all right. But you still haven't touched the main point." The dialogue with the audience began to dispel the tension Enosh was feeling.

  Because Atheism doesn't take into account the God who commands us to live," someone threw out from the middle of the hall.

  "You're on the right track, carry on," he smiled, and began to walk around the stage.

  For several long minutes, students suggested different interpretations for the motives of suicide and Enosh regarded each of them with respect. Eventually, he stopped them.

  "All the answers you've given are true. Now we need to refine the common denominator in all of them, phrase it in a logical way, and find support for it in the classical expressions of those who commit suicide. We'll start with the first point, the common denominator." From that moment on, he talked fluently, with no pauses or hesitations.

  "From all of your answers we see the lack of a framework. Nothing compels survival like a framework in which life can be the contents. In Atheism, you won't find a framework like a religious hierarchy, or domineering politics, which can be worshipped or risen up against, as a framework which you can exist within or break out from. In logical-mathematical terms, it is infinity. In topological terms, the geometry of logic, there is no line that divides those in one group from the rest of the individuals who are not in the group, creating finiteness.

  "The lack of framework rings also in the expressions of those who commit suicide. The most common saying begins with saying 'there's no sense…' with variations – 'there's no sense in life', 'there's no sense in going on like this,' and so on…

  "Think of sense in the simplest terms, the sense of taste, of food. Why would food not have taste? We sense that food is tasty when we are hungry. That is, when we lack it. Food is tasty because it receives its flavor from cultural tastes. In other words, the social framework decides that a specific food will be considered tasty. When there is no survival instinct and no social authority, food, just like life, would make no sense".

  The audience swayed uncomfortably.

  "Do you have reservations about what I said?" asked Enosh.

  "What about someone who kills themselves because of feelings of guilt?" asked one student.

  "Or a person who out of sorrow over the loss of a loved one, decides to die in their footsteps?" asked another.

  "Guilt," replied Enosh "is relative to the law. A person who feels guilty is fulfilling the belief in boundaries that are set by the law by means of his guilt. When a person condemns himself to a penal
ty of death, he is upholding the law as a representative of finiteness more than if he had lived without guilt. A person who kills himself out of sorrow over a loss is upholding the border between the living and the dead and putting himself on the side of the dead. This is his way of safeguarding the border between the living and the dead without departing from the dead.

  Again, we see that suicide is used to uphold finiteness of some sort due to a lack of other finiteness. If the death of the loved one was accepted as finite, it would be possible to come to terms with the loss without turning to suicide".

  Diotima smiled from the height of the balcony. Enosh's firm declaration that suicide was always connected to finiteness had incited the audience. The students kept on asking with different examples, and Enosh had an explanation for each and every one. She gleaned great satisfaction from her talented student, and enjoyed the intellectual discourse that was missing in her political work. Several years earlier, she had agreed, with much sorrow, but through a feeling of responsibility, to step down as head of the Socratic Academy and become a minister in the government of Dust, but she had never given up on the Festival of Knowledge. She was pleased to see that the festival was still stirring up the emotions of the students, and motivating them to think, to shine and to excel.

  From the earliest stages of training, a peculiarity that was not typical of his fellow men could be seen in Enosh. He was a dreamer, disorganized, slightly sloppy, and less refined than the rest of the materialistic Atheists. From the first moment Diotima recognized a spark of genius in him, and that went and grew throughout his studies. It was no coincidence that he was promoted to the position of Head Consciousness Expert in record time. Since the beginning of his training he had identified mental states by the changes in skin tone or movements of the body. He read the case descriptions and the words of the patients like an open book, and it sometimes even seemed as though he read thoughts.

  One event in particular left a deep impression on her. One of the patients spoke with sorrow about an object he had lost. Enosh immediately caught on that the object in question was a camera. After a few minutes, it became clear that he was indeed correct. Later, he explained to Diotima that he had concluded it from reading the patient's face. He blinked like the shutter of a camera every time he mentioned the lost object.

  For a few years he learned with Diotima and other consciousness experts. He was instructed on different methods of treatment, and passed all his examinations successfully. It was clear that he had a glowing future as an esteemed expert in consciousness. But his promised future was delayed. The plague of depression that washed over Dust did not pass over him.

  Enosh was at the beginning of his way; thanks to his impressive achievements, he won the desirable position of the head of the Philosophy department at the Socratic Academy. His articles had been published across the galaxy and his colleagues envied him. But as his career took off, his relationship with Zoe went downhill. The two had met in a course 'Introduction to Ancient Languages' taught by Diotima, in the first year of their studies at the academy. The two gifted students fell in love – he was the center of her world, and in the first two years she was the center of his world. But as time went on, Enosh dove deeper and deeper into his studies. The study of the logic of the depths of the soul fascinated him so much that he didn't notice what was right under his nose. Zoe tried to interest him in the known world, in recreational pastimes, in friends, in planning their shared future and in their relationship, to no avail. Diotima sighed. How many times had she seen this scenario approaching its inevitable end. To start with, Zoe tried to turn to his common sense, after which she begged, got angry, and with time, pulled away from him. She met a new love, and left him.

  Enosh absorbed a great blow: the power of the pain that he felt when she left him made it clear to him how important she was to him. His studies and achievements meant nothing without her. He tried to appease her, waited hours by her room and wrote her long love letters. His numerous attempts at persuading her to return to him bordered on harassment, and were met with nothingness. In the end he gave up and sank into depression.

  He was angry with himself when it became clear that despite his comprehensive knowledge of the human soul, he couldn't succeed in sustaining their love. He felt like he had failed, lost the love of his life, and that a love like this would never return. He disconnected from the world, lost interest in his studies, and closeted himself in his room for days on end. Diotima noticed his situation, took an interest in his wellbeing, and offered him help, but he refused. It was many long months later, after he had completely abandoned his studies that he came around and turned to ask for help.

  Diotima accompanied him in the rehabilitation process. Enosh learned to accept his limitations, to correctly estimate his abilities, and he slowly recovered. When he returned to the academy, he sought the mysteries of the soul not just in books and theories, but everywhere. But from there on out he preferred to keep a safe emotional distance between him and his friends: he was afraid of getting hurt again.

  Diotima knew why Enosh had chosen to deal with the issue of suicide. She had helped him to understand why a patient of his had committed suicide, five years earlier. The patient had done it as an act of free choice, specifically because Enosh had ordered her to live, and so pushed her to express her independence in the only way available to her, by choosing to die. Since then, he had never ceased to wonder what would have happened if he hadn't taken a stance. He still felt guilty, but no longer allowed depression to take control of him.

  "And how should we treat a person who is threatening or considering suicide?" Diotima asked from the height of the balcony. She posed the question for two reasons. Firstly, she wanted to show the students the reversal of roles, but she was also thinking about Enosh: she wanted the assistance of the audience to treat the open wound and make Enosh strengthen his insights with a public statement. Diotima knew that a public scholarly discussion with the participation of his teachers and students would help Enosh process the difficult experience that he still hadn't digested. Indeed, Enosh himself suffered from guilt, from exactly the same reasons that he had enumerated to his students. Enosh was also required to keep the borders of ethics through feelings of guilt. Diotima knew that the guilt that was tormenting him could not coexist with the free consciousness that was vital to the standpoint of a consciousness healer. She pushed Enosh to that point, and he did not disappoint her.

  "I thank my teacher Diotima for the question," he replied. "As you taught me, the healer must be free first of all from the need for borders and all their representations. As such, a healer must first agree to the fact that suicide is a legitimate right".

  The audience became wild at this. Enosh continued.

  "If the healer presents borders, ethical or other, by commanding a person to continue living or by the guilt that he projects with regard to suicide, you can expect never-ending treatment, where the healer functions as the border that the patient can argue against. The patient will refuse to accept the healer as a limitation. If he could turn to people to serve as a border for him, he would not be turning to death as a border. The healer must take a very specific stance, both with regards to himself and with regards to his patient. Not just that there is no border, but rather that even death is not a solution to the lack of border".

  "So as far as the healer is concerned, the patient can just die?!" someone shouted out from the shocked audience.

  "No," said Enosh soothingly, "as healers, we don't want the patient to commit suicide or to die, but not because it's forbidden, as a result of which we would feel guilt, but rather because we want them to live, and if they died we would feel sorrow. We must first guide him to accept the fact that there is no natural border anywhere. Not the skin on his body, not the time in his life, not the territory in his house. Hundreds of years ago, when space exploration first began from the planet Earth, there were astronauts who were forced to deal with anxiety attacks when they left t
he space shuttle to spacewalk. Why?" he asked the audience.

  "Because they felt the anxiety of the infinite, anxiety over losing the spatial border".

  "Very good," Enosh praised the student, "that is where we want to lead our patient".

  "To anxiety?" another student called out in alarm.

  Enosh smiled. "Yes. To start with, we want the patient to experience the loss of border to such an absolute extent that even death will not be a solution. We want them to feel the anxiety entailed in the lack of a border. That is not to say that he or she will spend the rest of their life in anxiety. The infinite will cure them of suicide and infect them with anxiety, but the free choice of where to mark and maintain the border will cure them from anxiety, and will impose the burden of free choice on them. Yes," he turned to one of the students who had raised his hand.

  "If I understand correctly, we want to change the patient's distress. We want to move it from the distress of the border of death to the distress of anxiety that comes from a lack of a border and from there to the distress entailed in the burden of choice. Free choice is the place where the border should be placed".

  "Exactly! Thank you".

  And what about the distress entailed in the burden of choice?" asked one of the teachers.

  "I don't know of any solution to that yet, so I wouldn't suggest trying to shake free of that burden".

  After examples from treatment stories and answers to the audience's questions, the lecture ended. Enosh descended from the podium to the sound of applause and cheers, and gazes accompanied him as he made his way through the crowded aisle, until he finally reached the back of the hall and dropped into the chair next to Diotima's. She patted his hand gently and smiled. Enosh smiled back and heaved a sigh of relief. The students took note of the intimate relationship between the senior teacher and her former pupil.