The Fool On The Hill

By Frank Tremayne

The Fool On The Hill looked down over Rainbow Valley. He knew this was Home. He wasn’t sure why it was Home. It just was. From the Hill sometimes it felt as if he was staring into eternity.

He could see the rabbits scurrying across the green field. He had wondered why they needed to run so fast and then he had realised it was a defence mechanism. There are some big birds which fly by and a few hungry foxes in the woods. Scream! The early bird catches the worm. Nature in tooth and claw.

This was his place. His safe place. The Fool visited The Hill often when he was looking for solitude and a place to make sense of the jumble in his mind. He had never seen another human being the many times he been there. In the rain and snow. In the hot and cold the hill welcomed him and it called to him. He saw many animals such as rabbits and foxes and the trees talked to him. The trees were alive and sentient and spoke to him but not in the way humans understand language.

Most of his time now was spent trying to make sense of what he was seeing and what he had seen and experienced through the years. For many years he had pondered over the nature of reality. What was real and who was real? He had enough supernatural experiences and a good education to understand reality was totally different to how it seemed when he was younger.

The Fool had come to realise the world must be an illusion. It just had to be. The sheer insanity of the world couldn’t be real. ‘It just can’t be’ he thought. It was definitely a Mad House and the lunatics ran the place. And the inhabitants in the asylum seem to share the same lunacy. The world was clearly Mind Stuff and yet some places and people seemed realer than others.

Being in nature felt realer than anywhere else. Even that he felt wasn’t entirely real and at the same time it was real. It was a conundrum. At times incredible beauty would reveal itself. Awe was an inadequate word to describe what he saw. The hill is alive with the sound of music. It is Paradise and something has gone awry in Paradise.

Mind Stuff again, he believed. Original sin and guilt and the belief deep down in the subconscious God was the enemy. A strange belief system had evolved where humanity both individually and collectively feared Life and this had somehow created an insane mind stuff reality. The Fool pondered over the question ‘Who Am I’ and what is my role in the play. For sure he effected his reality. How much was his reality and how much did others effect reality and other Deep Thought questions such as who was the puppet master.

The Bible and the other spiritual texts talk about the Devil. The Fool had worked out that the Devil wasn’t real but an imaginary monster and yet some force akin to the Devil was certainly at work. An unreal thought form had developed a survival strategy throughout Time. Another conundrum. How can something which isn’t real appear to exist?

It was clear that probably to others he seemed eccentric and from the general perspective of the world, he would probably be classed as insane. There seemed to be a process going on attempting to return him to what others viewed as sanity but he had experienced enough now to know he wasn’t insane and in reality returning to sanity. There seemed to be a collective crabs in the bucket process where when a crab attempted to climb out of the bucket, other crabs would attempt to stop the escape.

The News would tell him events were going on in the external world. Yet he knew that what he was being told had happened, hadn’t happened. Surreal is an inadequate description. How does that work, he contemplated.

Who Am I? has been one of the major philosophy questions over time. Recently, a child had explained to the Fool who he was. He was Love. Love is no great shakes to a young child and he knew that it was true. Looking back over time, he had memory of unkind actions and words which he felt guilty about but he was told by the little, or very loud voice now, that he was Innocence. It’s a paradox. Unreal guilt he knew.

Who was the loud voice that spoke to the Fool? He had gone behind the veil many times now and the sheer enormity of her Love is beyond words. Eternal, infinite, forever Love. She was female. He didn’t know why he should be surprised that God is female and yet he was. Logic says there is no reason why God shouldn’t be female.

And She wants her children Home. A good metaphor, he thought, was that the children had been playing a rough game outdoors and he heard her now saying Time for supper. The Fool’s mother never worried too much when he was outdoors playing as a child. He’ll come home when he is hungry was her motto which in hindsight seemed to work well.

The Fool thought ‘Back to the question about What Is Real?’ Love Is Real was the answer.

End Of Story. Next question?