Thinking for lizards

Imagine you're sitting on a rock, a cool rock, dark grey with white-ish streaks, glittery, pointy on one side, slope at a perfectly comfortable 45⁰, maximizing the sun you're getting on your back, while allowing your gaze to drift upwards to the sky where clouds chase each other, acting in strange plays, falling in love and disappearing. Life is great.

No. Life is not great. Your stomach is empty and there's no fly in sight. But where am I getting with this? I promise, just imagine that rock and the burning sun and how its rays envelope you in a warm and cozy blanket, a little bit too cozy maybe, a little bit too warm.

But why is life not great? Well, because you're not thinking, that's why!

Thinking is no magic. It's real and it's here. You too can have it, we'll talk about the costs later. I'm sure you've heard of it before. It's this thing that the bigger lizards on two legs with scales that don't shimmer in the sun do all the time. But why should they be the only ones with access to it? The stingy bastards, they want to keep it for themselves! Don't worry, they won't win this time, you just listen to me.

First, you want to get off from atop that warm rock. I know, it was nice and comfortable and the sand is harsh and burns and you're hungry and there's no fly in sight, but you have to listen to me. Find a puddle, a lake, an oasis, anything. This water is not for drinking, you're not thirsty anyway. Approach the water and look inside, but not at the bottom where there's only more sand. No, look at the surface. What do you see? Another lizard staring back at you! How could that be? Is it trapped beneath the surface? It doesn't seem to be drowning. You move, perhaps trying to help. It moves too. You bend your head to one side. It bends its head to the same side. You raise your tiny green arm with tough claws. It raises its tiny green arm with tough claws. How peculiar… And so, you observe the movements, carefully. You try to surprise it, turning away as if you were leaving, only to quickly turn back, trying to catch it doing something else, but it's still there, still staring back at you, eyes and scales and determination. It mimics your every move, no matter how tangled and unpredictable. You want to give up. Don't. Just one more look. Something peculiar is happening: you notice the movements of the lizard and your own are similar, too similar.

Silence. Static. Of course there isn't another lizard under the translucent surface. It is you! You feel it deep inside your tiny, green body, swimming in your blood and bones. The feeling of yourself. But you cannot quite grasp it yet, what this tingling, what these sparks really mean. We need to move on to the next step.

Take a deep breath. What does it mean to take a breath, a deep breath? Feel your chest muscles tense and tighten as your lungs expand, shifting the ribs to make more room. The hot air of the desert warms up your nostrils and you can feel the oxygen gracing the mucus on its way down to the bronchioles and finally to the alveoli where it mixes into the blood in exchange for carbon dioxide which, after a few seconds, you push out, back through the trachea, still warm, muscles relaxing. Feel every electric impulse transmitting the information, the imperative of breathing, otherwise so automatic. Move your arm, your tail, your neck, feel the muscles contracting and relaxing, the air brushing against your scales, the sand and friction. Notice how you can make your muscles move, how your nerves listen to your will.

Now shift your focus from yourself to your surroundings. What do you see? First, the sky. Persian blue gradually turning to azure, flowing into a pale horizon to meet the orange sand. Dirty red stone pillars growing out of the cracked and dry earth, stretching towards the sun like the teeth of a hungry mouth. A dry and grey set of twigs lays next to your puddle, just a bit too far to cheat death. You notice every small movement, but it's no longer instinct, no longer fear of a predator or hunger. There is something more, an understanding that you are here, in the desert. You are alive and living. Alive and thinking.

But why is life still not great? Well because you're thinking, that's why!

Time, mortality, all the weight of the world and the meaningless of it, love and hate and your insignificance, you can see it now. You will never have it all, not even a tiny part, no matter how much you try. You look around and see nothing but sand, orange, dry, covering everything. The sky, blue and cloudless and a tiny puddle of water. Finally, you.

So which one is it? I won't make the choice for you.