Tree of Life

I lay on a cliff and thought. The sun had risen a few hours earlier, casting cheerful reflections on the almost waveless sea. The ants crawling across the grass bothered me a bit, but otherwise it was fine. After the rush of the last few years, lying on the grass overlooking the sea was a good alternative. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at the Bible abandoned nearby, a bookmark somewhere at the beginning of the Old Testament. The search for the metaphysical meaning of life didn't last long this time either. I'd never understood why they had to slaughter all those exotic tribes in Canaan. Although laziness, the beautiful view, and general drowsiness once again prevailed, my thoughts were inspired by the description of Eden.

"Oh, to be able to get there and roam among all those fruits," I thought. I loved trees and lush vegetation, and the vision of an ancient garden appealed to my imagination. Oh well, I had to get up. I slowly gathered my things. On the way, I decided to visit Marta, a friend of mine from high school. I like her, though few people can say the same with a clear conscience. Marta is a unique person, simultaneously intelligent and sensible, yet also wallowing in complexes. This combination prevents her from forming any deeper relationships with the general public, except for a select few, usually underestimated by others. I count myself among this elite group, and I must say that I feel much better in her company than with the rest of my sociable, friendly, and open-minded friends. At the time, Marta lived with her parents in a small single-family home, a typical concrete cube in this country. The small garden was almost entirely taken up by vegetable patches and two rickety trees. A fire smoldered in the corner. The door was half-closed. This worried me a bit, so I pushed it open and saw Marta standing in the hallway with a silly smile.

"It's good you're here," she said. "Quickly, come to the room."

Curious, I followed her. Her one-year-old brother was in the room, playing with blocks scattered on the floor.

"You know what? I was in the Middle Ages," she said calmly, but knowing her, I saw a multitude of emotions hidden in that statement.

I looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean, in the Middle Ages? What were you like? In my thoughts?" I tried to defuse the tension hanging in the air with these questions.

"Not physically, I guess. Wait, I'm still surprised. That was just a moment ago.

" "What do you mean just a moment ago?" I replied abruptly. "What. are you talking about?"

I was just standing in front of the little one, wondering why all adults behave so idiotically around children," she sighed, "and what would happen if they started acting seriously and academically. I grabbed a book from the shelf and started reading aloud to him. "Here it is," she pointed to the book lying on the floor. Uncomprehending, I picked it up and looked at the image of a knight on a white horse on the cover. Marta went to the window, and I could see she was struggling to contain her excitement.

"Well, when I started reading it to him, it suddenly went dark, and I found myself in some village.

I looked at Marta suspiciously, trying to understand her unusual excitement, listening as she told me a story about a knight, obviously sitting on a white horse. He emerged from behind the bushes and must have mistaken her appearance for a sign of evil forces, because he tilted his copy and launched an immediate attack.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" she asked, looking me seriously in the eye.

Apparently, Marta, for some inexplicable reason, had decided to mock me. The potential joke seemed completely pointless and not funny, and that was what worried me. Marta had both a sense of humor and a high intelligence. Simultaneously, I recalled my morning, and several sudden thoughts came to mind, including at least one stupid one. Without thinking, I voiced them aloud.

"Didn't you dream about it by any chance? What do you think caused this transformation—you, your brother, or this room?" I made a noise meant to signal the fact that I was having a great time. "You, if we can travel through time and space, then make something so we can go to Eden.

" "When I can't... Why Eden?" she asked, interrupting her previous thought.

"We'll finally find out if it's true, and I want to see the Garden of Eden; that's my whim. The tree of knowledge of good and evil and the tree of life grow there, and it's all great," I said, hoping to ease the tension visible on her face. She stood beside her brother, her gaze fixed on the floor.

And at that moment, it happened. The sight of Marta staring at the floor suddenly blurred, and I lost my vision. It went dark, all voices fell silent, and worst of all, I lost all feeling, as if I were suspended in a vacuum. Completely startled, I couldn't move. I was terrified beyond words, and the only thought I remember was wondering when it would end. It ended after about five seconds. Vision, feeling, and the ability to move returned, and I stood on the ground, holding my breath. I slowly looked around. I was in the GARDEN.

"Oh no, there it is again," Marta's words reached me, belatedly. So she, too, was transported. I searched for her. She stood there, staring straight ahead.

"A dinosaur," I heard her whisper. I looked in the indicated direction, and indeed, under a large tree in the tall grass, stood a small dinosaur. By small, I mean a creature about three meters tall and probably weighing a ton. But there was something about this animal that made me think of it as "small." The dinosaur watched us for a moment, then turned and began to hop slowly away. A moment later, it disappeared behind a large bush hung with what looked like pink grapes, and for a moment, we could hear the receding sound of its leaping. Suddenly, we heard the sound of falling rocks and a terrible, prolonged squeal. The ravine was thirty meters deep, and its floor was covered with boulders. The dinosaur, from this distance, seemed a small blob, lay motionless at the bottom. I felt like a murderer, and I suddenly lost all joy in life.

We sat down on the rocks and took a long time to analyze our situation. We were undoubtedly in the Garden of Eden. Firstly, that was the topic of our conversation before the transfer, and besides, everything around us confirmed this suspicion. Among the many enormous trees, smaller ones, as tall as we were, occasionally sprouted. The smaller trees bore fruit of various shapes and colors. The larger ones were monstrous in size. Their branches, covered with yellowish moss, intertwined high above, forming the base of a leafy roof. Brown grass reached waist-high. It should have been dark, but the light filtered through the leaves, illuminating everything with a strange, warm hue, creating a fairytale-like feeling. In the current situation, if Snow White had emerged from behind one of the trees, I wouldn't have been surprised at all. The incident with the dinosaur had depressingly depressed me, and I felt a sudden urge to escape this world, where the slightest breeze stirred the soft brown grass. I was neither cold nor hot. Apparently, the temperature was optimal. I wondered if there were ants crawling on you when you lay down on the grass.

"Do you think this place really exists?" Marta broke the silence. "Maybe we created it in our conversation and thoughts? Maybe places like these are created, just like entities that come into being the moment they are named?"

I didn't know how to answer that. At the same time, I tried to organize all the knowledge I had about this garden. Attempting to analyze and compare Marta's previous experience with our current situation yielded nothing. The only thing that offered some comfort was the fact that Marta had returned from her previous trip.

"I don't know what it will be like to come back," Marta said. "I came back after a while before."

I glanced at my watch and suddenly realized the absurdity of this gesture. The fact that a watch was running only meant that a spring was expanding inside. If we could chase a dinosaur or move our arms, then a watch could also run. Does time pass the same way in this strange world? Nevertheless, a watch does provide some kind of standard. But the dinosaur moved strangely slowly. I had a small compass built into my watch. I turned it a few times, and the needle obediently turned, pointing north. I remembered that the exit should be in the east. Wait, but if the compass was working, that meant we were on Earth. Or somewhere with poles.

We'd been walking east for an hour. We were moving along a path of brown moss that gently climbed up a hill. Small trees grew much denser here. We decided not to touch the fruit, although I don't recall any mention of anything poisonous growing in Eden. Quite the opposite. Nevertheless, we weren't taking any chances. We didn't encounter any more animals, and frankly, I was glad. We passed small streams a few times. The sound the water made was like a soft song. Its voice was both alluring and hypnotizing. The whole situation was absurd. For a long time, I'd been wondering when I'd wake up, yet I knew this wasn't a dream. Finally, I threw caution to the wind and drank from the stream. The moment the cold water trickled down my throat, I felt the depression, fear, and fatigue recede. In their place, a strange urge to act arose. After a brief hesitation, Marta decided that if I were to abruptly depart this world after drinking the water, she would rather go with me than stay here alone. She approached the stream, took a deep drink, and drank. We continued on.

What lay before us was undoubtedly the garden's exit. However, I doubted anyone would survive the attempt. The garden was nestled in a canyon with unnaturally smooth and high walls. The exit was a breach about fifty meters wide, and within that breach hovered a huge, flaming circle, taking up the entire width. We couldn't get closer than about a hundred paces. Any attempt to force the passage caused a fierce wind to rise, passing through the center of the circle and striking us in a violent wave. The heat became unbearable, even for a few seconds. We had to retreat.

"So this is what a whirling fiery sword looks like," I said aloud.

We sat down on the path and gazed at the desired exit. I noticed that the effect of the stream water seemed to have worn off. Marta was clearly ready to burst into tears.

"Damn it, rivers run through this garden; they have to flow in and out somewhere," I tried to be constructive. "Let's go across it and either we'll encounter a river, or if not, we'll see what's to the west. Maybe there's another way out. If there's no way out, we'll go around it. We have to get out of here, we have to keep going. If we get too tired, we can always bathe in the stream. "

Something finally dawned on Martha.

"Do you think you can drink this water without side effects? What if it's some kind of drug? Do you think Adam and Eve could have left here?"

I responded with a quiet laugh. "...blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." I see you're ready to believe anything. Maybe we should look for the tree of life? It seems we're hereditary for the tree of knowledge of good and evil, but I'd love to find the tree of life." I joked, and I saw my jokes were working. As we walked, we continued the conversation.

"Why do you think the tree of knowledge of good and evil was planted in the first place?" Marta asked.

Unfortunately, I didn't really know what to answer. I could have thought of more questions like that. Why was it necessary to protect access to this garden? Why is eating from the tree of life unacceptable? Why couldn't God simply make mortal any evil person who ate such a fruit? And who is truly evil or truly good, anyway? I pushed all these questions aside; the landscape around us was too beautiful to waste time on philosophy. Marta, however, was stubborn.

"I think that without the tree of knowledge of good and evil, there would be no free will," she said, frowning.

Out of spite, I allowed myself to disagree with that statement. "Oh well, I could always choose which pears or grapes I eat today, or where I lie down and sleep." Marta's expression, indicating her thoughts on the level of my reflections, amused me.

"There's a certain sadness in this garden." We had long since passed the place where we had arrived and were now entering a vast clearing. Marta's last sentence held the truth. The garden was as sad as a wedding reception without the bride and groom or guests. The empty garden, devoid of people and almost no animals, seemed devoid of meaning. My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a small herd of dinosaurs, which emerged from the grass on a hill quite a distance away. A moment later, we saw that it was a pair with several young. They too fled, quickly disappearing from sight, this time without further consequence. At least, we knew nothing about them. In the center of the clearing stood two trees. The branches of both were heavy with fruit.

"Do you think those are the trees?" came Marta's whisper.

Without turning around, I nodded. I don't know why, but I was certain we were in the middle of the garden. Later, as I analyzed the situation, I concluded my belief was unfounded, but now I was simply certain.

"Which is which, do you think?" I asked. Then I answered the question myself.

"That's the tree of life on the left," I immediately began explaining. "Which fruit do you like better? The ones on the right seem very tasty, and the ones on the left look worse than ordinary, green plums, not even ripe."

There must have been something to my reasoning, because Marta agreed to them immediately. We saw hundreds of fruits in the garden, but almost all of them looked more attractive than the fruit from this tree. The fruit on the tree on the right also resembled beautifully grown, ruddy apples. This could have been what tempted the mythical Eve and ultimately led to the downfall of this world. I looked around anxiously, searching for the snake. There was no snake, but there was a decision to be made about what to do with this suddenly discovered treasure.

"So what, we eat one at a time and live forever?" I said into the air. "Nothing and no one will harm us anymore."

Marta slowly walked up to the tree, plucked a single "plum," and raised it to eye level. At that moment, something happened that changed us forever. A gentle breeze swept through the garden. We saw nothing, yet we were perfectly aware of His presence. We heard words, and I'm ready to swear there was no sound wave in the air; the words echoed in our heads, the voice gentle and calm.

"You cannot stay here. Before you eat this fruit, I will answer the question why you should not eat it. You decide. It's not the most important question, but other questions are either not important to you or I've already answered them. You just have to find them."

I can't say what happened to me for the next few minutes, but it was as if I were receiving an experience that wasn't the result of endless trial and error; I was gaining knowledge the way you pour water into a glass. I can't say it was painless either. I felt as if I were two beings at once, each possessing a contradictory worldview, logic, and value system.

I already knew the consequences of eating from the tree of life, and I was terrified by them. At the same time, as a result of this sudden surge of insight, I saw myself, my achievements, and my life in a new light. I would lie and say that everything was futile and evil; there were points that shone with a bright light. But the strangest thing was that these were not the points I was proud of. Instead, I saw how much meaninglessness and evil my ordinary day held. Small weaknesses, imperfections that happen to everyone now seemed equal to the worst betrayal and wickedness. I suddenly discovered how foolish and childish I had been in creating a hierarchy of "sins," things that were "naughty," and unacceptable. Suddenly, I saw that I had been judging others using this distorted scale. What right did I have to judge at all? I felt terrible sadness and loneliness, like a murderer who, in a fit of passion, kills a loved one and suddenly comes to mind over their body. I felt physical, tangible pain. If this newly acquired knowledge, this collection of unwanted sensations, hadn't abandoned me, I probably would have had to flee into madness, hide from myself. But the knowledge was gone, gone suddenly, and its absence brought relief. It was gone, but the impressions remained. We looked at each other, and I saw the terror in Marta's eyes. How to live now?

And then it all ended. The garden with its brown grass and fairytale light disappeared. We stood in Marta's garden. I felt a cold, unpleasant wind. The strangely cold and hazy colors around us seemed to hurt our eyes. The sounds coming from the street hurt our ears. We slowly recovered.

"You glow," I heard Marta's voice as if from afar.

"I looked at myself, then at her. "You too!"

Our clothes seemed to glow with their own light. The colors were unusually vibrant. Simultaneously, we moved toward the dying fire. Marta threw the fruit of the tree of life into it, while I added an armful of sticks. The flame, which grew to a height of over a meter, forced us to retreat slightly. We knew the fruit had to be destroyed, that no one could be allowed to eat it and be trapped forever in this tainted body and this tainted world. The glow from the clothes was fading, and so was the fire.

Marta's brother was playing as if nothing had happened. We were afraid to enter, watching him wordlessly from a safe distance in the hallway. We heard the sound of the door opening.

"It's my mother, but not a word about what happened," Marta hissed.

Marta's mother took off her shoes, said hello, and began bustling around, launching into a monologue. She was a person who loved to talk, and it was practically impossible to interrupt her. I was slowly regaining the ability to move and think normally. Everything seemed to be returning to normal. I knew I had little time and would devote it to searching for answers to a few existential questions, especially the most important one. I knew I would find such an answer. Meanwhile, Marta's mother kept talking. No one had time to warn her.

"Amazing, you know what I read in "Gazeta Wyborcza" today? With a little money and your health, you can join an expedition to the North Pole. Kamiński is organizing..."

We stared at the toddler for a long time. He had stopped playing, dropped his block on the carpet, and was gazing intently with large, blue eyes at the spot where Mommy had just stood.

"It's a good thing she didn't have time to take off her coat," Marta said grimly.

I mentally agreed with her, glancing at the shoes I'd left behind.