When I write a story, my underlying motive is to learn and grow spiritually. My latest novel, Earth Sentinels: The Storm Creators, is no exception. Although the plot seems like a protest against the environmental assaults besieging our planet, it was written to help answer a strong, underlying question that kept nagging at me, If we are One, connected to every particle in the universe, how can we attack anyone or anything without attacking ourselves?
I went around in circles trying to figure out how to “save” the world without attacking myself, but I couldn’t find an acceptable solution. So, before I started writing, I set the intention that I would discover the answer by living vicariously through my book’s characters. In each chapter, I explored their anger at having their lives and way of life threatened and the land destroyed. I let them feel empowered and justified as they demanded that the world use only earth-friendly methods. And, as the events escalated and the world retaliated, I let them feel remorse, guilt and even more rage.
One of the conversations in the book that offered valuable insights was between the character, Haruto, who lives in Fukushima, Japan, and her spirit guides—three samurai soldiers, a crone and priestess. At this point in the story, she is talking with them while sitting around a firepit:
The priestess picked up a delicate, white smoking pipe with cherry blossoms painted on its bowl. She lit it with a twig plucked from the fire. After a few puffs, she passed it to Haruto who smoked it, then passed it to the samurai sitting next to her. As the pipe made its rounds, the crone spoke in a hoarse voice, “I believe you received an answer earlier today, one which you ignored.”
“You mean when I was told that the nuclear disaster was a reflection of my own mind?” Haruto asked.
The crone chortled, “You do remember!”
Haruto ignored the comment, instead appealing to the samurai soldiers, “You must understand the need to fight! You made warfare a sacred calling.”
The samurai in black armor answered, “In a sense, everything is spiritual. However, attack is always against yourself. Oft times, we must fight a battle, if only to learn to lay down our arms.”
The red-armored samurai piped in, “When you understand that fighting’s sole purpose is to preserve your own illusions, you will stop fighting.”
“What’s the point?” Haruto asked, exasperated.
“There is no point, except to learn there is no point,” the samurai in green offered.
I invite you take this marvelous journey and hope you find it as insightful (and fun) as I did.