eleven ? the faroutest reaches of inner space

To this day I haven't been able to grasp Riri's ability to obtain and assimilate accurate information. If he actually had some sort of ability to "listen" to and even to "see" vibrations in the airwaves, how could he sort and make sense of so much vibratory information? His observations were accurate and logical. His application of the bits of information that he had picked up were always appropriate. The "whazzup-boogie dude's" agenda seemed to flow with events some of which triggered changes mid-course, but it invariably remained His agenda. If mine happened to be served by his, fine, but for the most part, my simply stated, but quite challenging agenda of trying to comprehend what I was experiencing, was irrelevant. Although Riri's demeanor was amiable, there was an intensity to his "rechurch". He was generally pre-occupied, intent on his mission to the extent that it was difficult to even interject questions, let alone be graced with answers about his observations.
It wasn't that he was curious in what you would call a selfish sort of way. He was clearly on a mission, as an explorer, an observer, not an ambassador. He never let slip whether his efforts were commissioned. If he were on assignment, it seemed odd that he was alone (he never mentioned others), but it would be a stretch to think that his expedition could be of a personal nature. In any case, I could barely keep up. I was constantly surprised, frequently amazed, completely awed, by what I was blessed to experience.
I felt I was learning right along with my curious guest. I was being treated to a re-markable re-education, re-valuation, and profound re-consideration of my self and the world I thought I knew, despite there never being enough time or space for enough questions. I found myself left to wonder endlessly about his world, his life, his family, his technology, his travels, what he ate (before he discovered ice cream) what he felt. Actually, as I think about it, although the answers I sought remained elusive, his feelings were for the most part apparent. I would say he "wore his heart on his sleeve", if he had a sleeve, or for that matter, a circulatory system.
It was remarkable to witness his process. Naive innocent wonder was complemented by persistent attention to comprehension. This opportunity to view my world through the rare perspective of what had to be a different consciousness, had showed up out of nowhere, make that elsewhere. Occasionally, if I paid attention an intersection of our interest would satisfy my need to understand his take on something in particular.

ten-whazzup?...what’s in the air?...

After several days of intense activities fueled by curiosity and enthusiasm, I discovered Riri sitting peacefully one morning on the grassy slope where I had been dozing what seemed about a lifetime ago. As he squatted silently in apparent in contemplation of his domain, he resembled one of those amiable little stone gargoyles…this time it was my turn to interrupt the reverie…I approached and sat without speaking so as not to startle…I found myself contemplating my own inner domain. There was now a fascinating gnome in the landscape, who after allowing a few moments for me to settle, asked matter-of-factly, “Whazzup?”
Where does he get this stuff…”Where do you get this stuff?…your words, the ones you don’t learn from me…Where do they come from?”

“They in the air…I try…”

Despite limited opportunities, our ability to communicate had continued to improve. His vocabulary was growing in proportion to a tremendous expansion of familiarity and awareness, but his diction and grammar remained, for the most part, a humorous adventure. He really did try…but I still couldn’t understand where or how an alien could pick up some of the jargon of pop culture, or for that matter, ice cream, or politics, or to know to bring my wife some flowers…

“I try,” he repeated, “air full of stuff, I watch, listen, taste…I try…”

I was lost… “Air…? What do you mean?”

“Earth air full of stuff, I see I hear, I try, so much stuff… you no see, no listen …maybe feel…sometimes gobblegook hard for unnerstand…so much…

“Do you mean vibrations?”

“I think…like dance sound…but different…too much…not good for unnerstand, not good for mindthink…hard to get, for listen…vibrations…ye s … everthink vibrations…music…light…vibrations…heat… talk…telebision… rainbow…yes, and more…rainbow…everthink…you…me…’lectric…can’t tell…you no see… everthink vibe…I feel,I see…you…not…not yet…not……………. See me…

“see you…”……What I was “seeing” was not yet clear, but instinctively I got that in addition to light and sound and communication stuff, the material world itself was vibrating, was composed of vibrating atomic particles…if you do a bit of googling, like I did that night…

We often see images of atoms as little, sort of earth- centers with electron-moons orbiting closely. The actuality is that if an atom’s nucleus which is where the mass ot weight is, were the size of a basketball, you would have to travel twenty-two miles to reach the buzzing electrons…This would mean at least an additional twenty-two miles before the next bit of mass…next time, better watch who you’re callin’ “spacey.” We are all more than a little spacey, it would seem

This simple, yet profound observation, is almost unimaginable, and makes every thing imaginable…perhaps any thing possible…Ashes to…ashes...dust to…

energy…from emptiness to full fill meant…

The air…full…of “stuff”…to “try”…

nine - the animals…all critters great and small…are aliens animals…?

The adventure continues…The baby rabbit had made an impression that was right up there with ice cream. This meant disappointment for me, of course, in terms of my desire for a “serious” agenda, but it was more than made up for in the days that followed by the joy of witnessing Riri’s very serious enthusiasm for exploring the woods around our home in search of anything that hopped, crawled, jumped, slithered or flew.

One day I noticed him kneeling at the edge of our pond with his head under the water for what seemed like an impossible amount of time. The next, he was out on a limb, high in a granddaddy oak, following who knows what. Another time he spent hours, mesmerized by the web-making of a garden spider. He would grace me with his presence, only in passing, to ask questions about names and habits of the “furrytails” or the “big floaters” or the “li’l buzzers with nose in fwowies (‘what they lookin’?)

He could get quite excited when the pair of fawns would play, chasing each other at surprising speed, and quickly learned that they would stay around longer if he didn’t try to join them…and when a momma blackbear ambled through, with her very small cubs scrambling to keep up, he trembled with excitement, from behind the instinctive safety of a tree. But, when she stopped to sniff and then fix a laser-like look in the direction of his hiding place, he “POPPED”...

This period of intense attention to wildlife lasted nearly a week, and I was pleased when it actually led to the kind of conversation I had been hoping for…

Had I only known… I could have looked forward to the surprising and inspiring observations he would be sharing…