You are What’s Eating You

Oh, well; I’m famous for getting everything back-to-front, upside-down and inside-out; this one struck me in conversation, when I observed that the most significant piece of progress we seem to have made in the last few hundred thousand years of evolution is that, instead of being eaten by lions, we now get eaten by worms, and I wasn’t sure if this was an advance. D. Immediately and creditably rose to the defence of worms, or at least questioned my species-ism, but I felt that there was something horribly valid about the thought, for all that. There are times when a short and glorious life as a hunter, to be rounded off (in a very Ying-Yang sort of way) as the hunted, has an appeal which fending off the lure of little legless species (until I’m too doddery to resist even them) does not possess. Later, N. and I discussed the psychological aspects; that people ARE the ideas and emotions, hopes and fears, that preoccupy them. I know what’s eating me; what’s eating you?

All this brought back to me the memories of a previous incarnation in a now long-forgotten tribe in South America, and our legend of the Truth Berry. It was at once the most feared and the most loved, the most avoided and most sought-after, fruit in the whole village. This is its story.

The bush upon which the Truth Berry grows is very rare, and no-one has ever seen more than one in any location. It grows in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by some of the highest and oldest trees of the forest, and these giants are in turn surrounded by densely growing vines, shrubs, and trees (especially fruit trees). It is as though all other vegetation seeks to get close to it, and the older, wiser trees of the forest gather round to ensure the inviolability of its small, sacred area. But, for all this, it is not hard to detect the bush once you are in its vicinity. First, all species of birds are attracted to it, and ceaselessly flutter around, swooping across the clearing, circling it, and landing in its branches, and all the while singing as loudly as ever anyone ever heard them; and frequently the song is uniquely composed for this shrub. Then, as you draw closer, and long before you can see more than a glimpse of it, your eyes widen in joy; for this is no ordinary form of plant life. It grows to about the height of a man, and from its slim trunk spring branches that radiate in concentric rings, perfectly even in length, and pointing slightly skyward. Each ring is smaller than the one below it, which imparts to the bush a most pleasing shape; but before this can be clearly discerned, the rivers of your heart have already burst their banks at the sight of the leaves. They grow in profusion from the branches, each leaf sporting long spines both from the scalloped edges and, at right angles to these, from the central shaft of the leaf. Most wondrous of all is that, although the thick, fleshy leaves are clearly a very dark but shiny green, they manage to reflect (or perhaps produce by some unknowable process) infinitely delicate rainbow hues that follow the outline of the leaf and also appear to hover, most magically, a tiny distance about the surface, in a tracery that seems perfectly defined, but shimmers, disappears and reappears in a new form, whenever the eyes try to focus upon them, rather than the dark surface upon which they rest.

As one approaches, parting or cutting the entangled undergrowth to get to the clearing, more and more detail becomes certain until one can discern growing, usually on a branch toward the apex of this bush, a single fruit; about the size of a small grape, exceedingly shiny, in shades of dark red and green that verge on blackness. This is the Truth Berry and, even if your search in the forest was for other products of this infinite storehouse (honey, fruits, meat, or even urgently needed medicinal herbs), it is impossible to resist the temptation of this most prized of all the forest’s harvest; for it is well known by our people, and all the other tribes who live nearby, that to eat of this fruit is to take food, and medicine, and all manner of things life-giving to the human body and pleasurable to the soul. This Berry confers Wisdom, and Power, and Health, and Life; such that to possess it is to know instantaneously the answers to all human problems, whether large or small; to know where to look for game and fruit and medicine for the village, how to prepare potions that cure, or kill, whence came all life that now lives in such profusion upon the Earth, and whither it goes; and all manner of such knowledge long sought by men, and other knowledge as well; of dark and brooding terrors that haunt worlds undreamed of, and of pleasures unattainable by our ordinary human senses (and these known not just as thought, but as living experience, so that the Wisdom one has is beyond all comprehension of those who are ignorant of the taste of the Truth Berry…

But all this lore of its desirable properties, passed from one generation to another, are unnecessary to draw you to the bush; as unnecessary as the dire warnings that accompany the tales are useless. All goes unheeded upon the sight of that bush, and moreso upon seeing the Truth Berry itself, for its shape is more appealing than any other in nature, and its call is stronger than even the strongest warning from the Shamans. And not only does it stimulate the eye to perceive it as a prize beyond all price, but the ear, too is seduced; for as even the slightest wind stirs through the leaves of its parent bush, there comes a sound that all the greatest musicians playing together could not emulate. Thin, almost shrill, almost unhearable at first, it calls to our innate love of music as a charm irresistible, and as one nears, the sound swells into a roar of music and song that all the world could not emulate, were they together to abandon all responsibility and devote their lives to its reproduction. Voices there are, who sing of the joys of the Berry, and accompanied by the musical instruments of all tribes, known and unknown; and you step slowly (but in reverence, not caution) to this most sacred plant. And now its scent becomes apparent; luscious and infinite, embracing all pleasure and stimulating odours that can be known, yet never mixing and becoming unclear or unpleasant; each discrete and whole, and growing in its harmonies to complement the sound which now drowns out all others, and to sweeten, if such a thing were possible, the infinite complexity of hues that radiate from the bush.

And now begins the mystery of its terror, as the Berry begins to shift and transform its shape, to simulate the appearance of first one fruit, now another; each more beautiful and attractive than the one before, and your hand reaches out to grasp, and pick, and eat. And it is at this point that the bush begins to spring its trap and, unless you have kept your mind at full alert through all this seduction, your fate is sealed. For now each leaf, replete with thorns, joins in the process of transformation and they, too, take on the appearance of fruit, each leaf different from another, each different to the Berry, and never staying the same, but each transforming itself on the instant of its perfection into another even more delightful to the eye, and promising to the palate; and if your attention wavers even for an instant from the Berry (or that which had been the Berry), it is lost forever in a bewildering array of seemingly wondrous fruits, which are irresistible, and there is no choice but to select one from the abundant company, and eat.

The leaf itself is not poisonous, or its soft spines damaging when eaten; but those who err in their choice (and they are most, nearly all, of those who approach the Berry) are found in the forest later, in a pitiable state. Some are entirely preoccupied with a hopeless search for the bush they have wandered from, and sample each and every type of food they find in their meandering, spitting each out in disgust as it fails to satisfy their craving; while others, even less fortunate, believe they find the Truth Berry in a common fruit tree of the forest, and eat until they are ill from the excess of one type of food, only to return immediately for more. And those whose fevered minds take this course also believe themselves to be wise, but speak arrant nonsense to all who will listen, and bring great sadness to their families and friends, who would help them to recover from this delusion, but cannot.

But I have not yet told you of those who minds are keen, and alert, and who are not seduced by the (perhaps unwitting) deception of the bush, and who keep their eyes firmly fixed on the Truth Berry through all its transformations, seeing behind the myriad and momentary forms, at times so similar to the illusions around it, its wonderful essence. And to these is given the greatest mystery of all; for they reach out and pick the Berry, and it parts from the branch upon which it grows most easily, and the person who holds it draws it to his mouth and takes it to his teeth and his tongue, and the roof of his mouth closes upon it; but he has demanded that the Universe, in all its numberless forms and manifestations, disclose itself completely to him, and he never eats the Truth Berry; but it eats him.

Daleth.