I sometimes find myself daydreaming. I wonder, if some alien entity were to visit our planet just to get to know us, what would I tell them? I’m not someone who’s travelled widely. I’ve not tasted the myriad cultures that grace our rich and colourful world. And I’m certainly not some high-powered executive who wields vast amounts of power where my word is the command for those in the lower echelons. I live a quiet, largely unobtrusive life. So, what would I tell them?
Grandeur of Earth
First and foremost, I’d want them to learn about the grandeur of our planet. Firstly, I’d show them places where they’d find the magnificent creatures of our world. Strong and supine, masterfully dexterous or simply finely well-adapted to their habitat. I’d insist we search out the four corners of Earth where the numerous creatures of our world reign supreme. Many of those creatures are small and seemingly insignificant—bats, insects, and birds. Still, they hold court in their domains.
I’m sure they’d be astounded when I showed them the deep Amazon forest with its trove of plants and animals. They’d be astonished at how life is so perfectly coordinated. Another place I’d show them would be the Boreal forest and its panoply of animals and plants. I’d eagerly tell them how the plants, trees, and the animals who live within have often found unique and surprising ways to survive the unforgiving weather that assails the region. If possible, I’d want them to see the ocean depths, too, the mysteries couched within that jewelled realm.
Boreal Forest. Image by Lee Everts.
Similarly, humans must take a bow for part of the grandeur on our planet. I’d excitedly and I admit, proudly show them many of the superlative structures my species have created. I’d tell them how, regardless of when they were built, these structures remain a part of our world, given how they reflect the intellect and wisdom of our human forebears.
Sydney Opera House (Source: Pixabay).
Like many, my first inclination was initially to find places untouched by my own kind. However, I’d assure our visitors how such an objective would be to unfairly disregard the presence of humans, one of the animals who inhabit the earth.
Showing the Shadowy Side
After showing our visitors the grandeur of the planet, I think it’d be only fair to show them the darker side of my species, in particular. I confess I’d hang my head low. Still, if they truly want to know us, they must also understand the fear undergirding life on this planet.
“Why do you fear?” they’d no doubt ask. In response, I’d honestly tell them I’m not exactly sure. Although, I’d maybe start by explaining how all species deeply fear death. Or maybe it’s better to say it in another way; we are all hardwired to survive. At any rate, I’d assure them, I feel that fear has always had a significant role to play.
Other creatures on this planet ably demonstrate such drives for survival. For instance, I’d say, if they were to watch a wolf chasing a caribou, the caribou would run like the wind to escape the wolf. Sometimes it’d work and sometimes, not. I’d tell them they could watch any predator and prey and witness the same drama.
Humans and Our Struggle to Survive
I’d suspect they’d inquire about my species at this point. “Are your kind the same? Do you also feel this fear to which you refer?” Again, I’d have to confess my uncertainty, noting how things get a little more complicated with our story. I could only offer my humble understanding.
I’d explain how I feel fear has become intense for my kind. We struggle to control resources required for survival. Things such as fuel for heat and power, as well as food are the most sought after. In certain parts of our world, nations have been fortunate to possess valuable resources, I’d tell them. The result has led to wars and great distress with countries raging for control of these resources.
I’d relate how this fear for our survival has resulted in a wretchedly torn and raked landscape. I can even explain how too many use money to wield their control. But while many have become controlled by the worship of money, I’d still say I think it’s our fear for our survival and our potential death that is the underlying driver. I’ll be sure to explain how it is very sad how my species has been brought down by their misunderstanding.
Dance of Life and Death
“What do you mean?” they’d likely then ask. I’d tell them it’s because I think too many of my species don’t understand death. Many of our fellow species understand death all too well, readily walking into its embracing arms. But too many of my species cannot comprehend how there is truly no beginning or end of life.
Two Yellow Flowers Surrounded by Rocks (Pexels).
I’d tell them how we go on, for it’s a circle, our dance of life and death. My species needn’t fight so vehemently to survive, intentionally taking the lives of others to improve their own pursuit to survive.
Their greed and lust for money are all mortally bound to their fear of death. All is done to control the world and more importantly, to control life. By controlling life I think they feel they’ll control death.
Our alien friends might understand, I’m not sure. But I’ll tell them how my species do not realise it’s okay to die. Along with one another’s destruction, they fight it by steadfastly transforming their bodies. They pursue a life they feel reflects eternal life. They fail to understand our essence, spirit or consciousness is what carries on.
Certainly, I’d acknowledge these are beliefs. Still, don’t beliefs become reality I’d ask them? Sometimes, we can go forward with a feeling or sense rather than always feeling the need to prove it scientifically. How does it feel? We must listen to our bodies. We’ll know.
I’ll tell them how I fear many of my species don’t understand who they are and how simple life can be. I feel we are here to share and give of ourselves. Wouldn’t life be so simple if we accepted this truth?
That’s the best I’d be able to do as I help them understand my planet. And I’d say to them, I hope they’ll return one day to see if we’ve somehow been able to change.