States of Change is an ongoing work of serial fiction.
The speculative story-line seeks to inspire thought on ethics, culture and our planet's future.
The year is 2076, decades after Oosa's defederalization.
Fifty independent States have forged unique societies from
revolutionary technology and ideology
The Olympic Mountains loom high in the distance through aqua mist. The campsite on the edge of the Hoh River is speckled with minimalist gear: several hammocks swaying in the breeze and improvised log benches circling a campfire circle of tumbled granite rocks. The moss draped maples of the surrounding rainforest challenges the mind with swirls of green impressionism.
A handful of booted old-timers stand in the river's fringe seeking the solace of ancient ways. Their fishing rods are authentic enough, but the weighted flies they swing around are hookless to conform to the Washingtonian Sentient Code: "All Thinking, Feeling Creatures Deserve Respect."
I jot some notes down to remind me later of the joyfulness that the people here glean from their immersion in nature. Salmon are left to swim and spawn and further upstream to feed the brown bears or die and decompose capping the web of life in this temperate environment. Many people are recording video, sound and other data for the citizen science collective. Some are simply observing from isolated locations seeking inner solace.
Thinking of the many-fold fullness of new Washington, I sigh. Over half the state embraces the principles of Nae Nae, founder of the sentient protocols. With her influence over nearly fifty years, the state was rewilded around its three megacities. If time had been rewound 20,000 years the wild areas would be more or less indistinguishable from their environmental balance of pre-ice-age times, inclusive of the mammoths and sabre-toothed cats reintroduced to the Olympic valleys.
One might say, it was the best of times. Hydroponic, veganic agriculture easily sustain the needs of the cities. The cities house the eleven million humans, their companion animals and its mostly enlightened society. Art and literature creation flourish, recreation and conversation varied and peaceful; by every measure, happiness was flourishing.
I consider my happiness in the moment. An ache of joy and absence reside there that would not go away. My mindfulness meditation practice helps center me on a daily basis, but nothing can eliminate my feeling of loss. Before I had known her for a year let alone thirty, I had tried to mentally prepare for the inevitability that we all face, losing someone you love.
The tension of my memories slacken an iota as I imagine generations of humans contending with that very same emotional challenge. All our AI optimized wisdom, real-time counseling and transcendental exercises seem but the thinnest of salves on lost love. And yet for the most part we forge ahead. Someone once said, better to have love and lost, than to have never loved at all.
With that thought in mind I set my notebook down and pull my shirt away and then dive into the chill waters of the Hoh. The body and mind unify if only for an instant in that microsecond of aquatic immersion that takes me back to a playful moment of my youth. Chill water for most every Earthling creature is an evolutionary memory, a chance to reconcile being in the moment with acceptance of the greater vista of the living world.
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