broad terms, your inventory is a repository of all knowledge and assumptions about physical
reality from which you engage the journey of self-discovery. We’ll come back to that.”
“We’ll have to.”
She chuckled. “You should engage every day with a sense of wonder to avoid tainting it
with judgements, thereby freeing yourself to ask why you say the things you do. Part of what
Tartuu is teaching Aleena,” she said, tapping the back of my wrist with her hand, “is to not waste
energy maintaining images. When she begins living like Tartuu will suggest in specific terms,
her energy saving will allow unexpected insights to add to her positive outlook, like the one you
had in the restaurant.”
“You’re saying energy set my self-interest aside, and what I understood was waiting behind
“Insights arrive when you draw pure conclusions from untainted inquiries and information.
As your world becomes clearer, your days become less daunting, your outlook becomes more
positive, you expend less energy, and the easier it becomes to draw correct conclusions. Most
people use all of their daily energy converting events into acceptable ideas. You already know
you do this, and that you react like a black belt on speed, so your first discipline should be doing
nothing as a proactive consideration in virtually every circumstance you can. It’s that, or you
should find and fight to the death of a worthy cause because living in between is a living hell for
you.”
I understood exactly what she meant, and I used the remainder of our walk to silently
review and remember how events unfolded at the restaurant because I had the illogical sense that
once we were apart they would become like 1969. Foggy.
Bonnie occasionally tittered for no apparent reason.
When we arrived at her car outside of Ed’s apartment block, she gave me a quick hug and
said, “If you practice clarity by stopping to assess what you’re about to say, as if you’ve never
said anything, one hugely humbling insight you’ll arrive at will be how much you’ve been
missing. See you on Sunday.” She got in her car and drove away.
Unexpectedly exhausted by the mental trek she had taken me on, six days away from her
didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Josh could take the strain for a while.
Chapter 20
The Language of Chaos
During the week that Bonnie was away, I drafted sample scenes from her chapters, jogged
in the afternoon, and in the evenings made a game of assessing what I was about to say to Ed.
Not all of the time, mind you, but enough that by Wednesday my halting manner caused him to
call me to the Avalon to ease my apparent stress over my screenplay deadline. I didn’t tell him
that I had finished it because he would want to read it, and that wasn’t ever going to happen with
anyone I knew: trying to incorporate the ringing chord of mystery with my altered design of
suspense that culminated in Tom’s practical solution had gutted both. The measured ingredients
of my psychological soufflé had become instant pudding.
Ironically, as the agent weighed it for shipping, I realised that Bonnie had been bang-on at
our first meeting: My deadline hadn’t been too close to make subtle changes, if only I had faith
in the process leading me to where it wanted to go; I saw that destination too late to do anything
about it. As it was, choosing the expedient way pretty much defined the story’s genesis—written
in a hurry for the money.
