Helen just laughed. "You are right. The whole world is using this excuse. That's the oldest excuse in the book. That's why nothing gets resolved. That is why we have built many tens of thousands of nuclear weapons to blow ourselves up with. So you say that you are wishing for something that the whole world is wishing for, that the problems simply go away, or that somebody else will solve them for you. How noble of you!" said Helen and began to grin.

      "I can't deny that sex was an element of what I would have loved to have been involved in," I replied, "though it probably wouldn't have been a big thing. Still I was hoping that it would be something greater than just sex. I was hoping for a kind of intimacy that makes our sexual embracing something special that only human beings have the capacity to perceive and develop, something which makes it uniquely human. Then it would have the potential to be something like a miracle that unfolds when our thinking is raised to a higher level where such 'miracles' actually become real. The whole human dimension is like a miracle in that way, isn't it? What really defines us as human beings is greater than anything we can find in any form of life in the known universe. We are defined by a profusion of such miracles, unfolding as art, science, music, literature, beauty, creativity, compassion, love, generosity, to mention just a few. I suspect that sex too, has the same kind of higher dimension, if only we could find it -- a unique human dimension that lies far above the level of the animal dimension of sex. Unfortunately, that is what society is commonly focusing on. I suspect that this is what Erica had felt impelled to close the door to. I also suspect that we will never discover that higher dimension, because we find it easier to close the door to the whole dimension than to take up the challenge. I think I was in the pub to ponder where the boundary lies between the possible and the miraculous," I added. "I suppose, I was dreaming a dream that will always remain but a dream."

      "Aren't we human beings a peculiar lot?" said Helen. "You were hoping for something that the whole of humanity is hoping for, a kind of universal closeness. The reality is that you were hoping for something that is easy to fulfill. Still, we find it terribly hard to help one-another to take those simple steps across the barriers that we have built up over centuries against the fulfillment of our needs. I find this so often," she added quietly. She almost sighed.

      "Perhaps it is fear," I said to her. "We've become locked into a prison of fear, like Hamlet in Shakespeare's tragedy, who couldn't take that one simple step that he most desired to take and had the authority to take. Perhaps it is fear of the unknown country for which we have stayed away from it for centuries, because everybody says, don't cross that line. We even teach that story to our children. We tell them; don't cross that line; don't go into the forest; be aware of the wolf; be careful Little Red Riding-Hood."



      Helen had sat down next to me on the sofa as we spoke about Hamlet and Red Riding-Hood. We both said little to each other after that. Evidently she allowed me time to sort myself out. She may have realized that those movements in thought that the unfolding new situation inspired could have far reaching consequences for good if they were allowed to unfold, if they provided a basis that we could build on. Indeed, we could build on the riches of that wider world that Erica has already presented. What might come from that building could prevent a possible regression back into the Old World, and maybe even a deeper regression into its poverty, with harsher limits than the ones I had been struggling to break away from.

      She explained after a long period of silence that after the great financial crash in 1345, and the Black Death plaque had ravished Europe two years later and killed half of its population, some people began to focus more and more on the value of a human being. That value was locked into the wondrous nature of our humanity. Especially some of the younger people could recognize it. She told me that some young boys had been taught in the monasteries to read and write in order to help the monks to copy ancient manuscripts. She said that these boys became familiar with the humanist discoveries of Plato, his scientific method of discovery, and so grew up to become accomplished independent thinkers. Out of this background a teaching order evolved which encouraged students to replicate in their own mind the discoveries of the pioneers of humanity, as a process to learn the process of discovery itself.

Next Page

|| - page index - || - chapter index - || - Exit - ||

Stories about  Sex from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche