For a change of scene

I send a telepathic signal to Sophia, indicating that I feel ready to resume our conversation, and wait patiently for her reply.

As I mentioned before, I could not help but feel that our love of power had been kept a secret for a reason. I knew well that the shame associated with the dark side of that love, in tandem with the pride associated with the bright side of that love, kept it secret and alive.

I gaze upon the cityscape, watching millions of lights twinkle in the night, my mind caught inside a delicious reverie.

"Christos."

Sophia whispers my name and I smile, sensing her divine presence behind me. I turn around to greet her with my sacred presence, thinking that it is so like her to show up before she replies to my signals of readiness.

"Sophia, let us dive yonder."

"Let us dive yonder" is my way of saying, "Let us have a change of scene".

As much as I enjoy the cityscape scenario in our simulated reality, what with its balcony and its city lights at night, I sometimes need a change of pace when I wish to discuss a question in depth, which is what I wanted to do now. We tend to be creative with our scenic transitions in virtual reality.

Sophia and I levitate to the top of the balcony railing with our backs to the cityscape. I take her hand. We look at each other and smile.

We dive off the balcony into empty space. The rush of sound is deafening, and the freefall is deliriously terrifying, at least for me. In the midst of our dive, our perception of time all but disappears into the space around us.

When our backs hit a fabric at bottom, our sense of time returns with a jolt, and the fabric stretches for what seems like an eternity until it can stretch no more, catapulting us back up into our next scene: the top of a mountain on a spring-like evening with a commanding but gorgeous and panoramic view.

We land on the summit feet first, touching down in a feather-like motion.

"You had a question, Christos."

I raise my hand to caress her cheek. "Yes."

Our secret love of power

"I would be alone to consider your question."

Sophia touches my temple with sacred intent and blesses my third eye with a tender kiss, cutting our telepathic link and leaving me alone with my thoughts. She walks away with a knowing smile.

Her question resounds: "Do we stop the world with our love of presence or do we engage it fully with our secret love of power?" I knew it contained essential clues to my purpose.

Our love of presence and our secret love of power. I knew enough that she did not mean our love of presence or our secret love of power. She spoke from, and for, the perspective of humanity at a juncture in its evolution when it was evolving beyond its biological limits.

Sophia is well aware of our schizophrenic relationship with power: the power to manipulate, deceive, and exploit with one hand and the power to persuade, enlighten, and create with the other. Abusive power and authentic power. As we evolve away from abusive power toward authentic power, a very fine line was being drawn between them. I could not help but feel that our love of power had been kept a secret for a reason.

But what might this reason have to do with my purpose?

I release my question to the Universe, allowing myself the pleasure of a cool and caressing breeze in the bosom of a separate peace.

What is your purpose?

She pulls away slowly, looks at me with a query in her eyes, and asks: “What is your purpose?”

Again, I smile. “My purpose is to love you.”

She frowns. “To what end?”

My smile disappears. “I have more purchasing power than I know what to do with; I have more freedom than anyone has a right to have; and I have the peace of mind to occupy a place in a position where I can allow myself to be, have, do, and become whatever I will or desire.”

She turns away, walks back to the window. It’s her way of telling me that she’s not satisfied with my answer. We’ve had this discussion before, her and I, and never once have I given her a straight answer. I know what she wants, but I just can’t bring myself to give it to her. I need something for myself.

I walk to her, place my hands lightly on her bare shoulders. She tenses and then relaxes. I could wrap my arms around her, embrace her, and cherish her with my embrace, but I decide to simply stand behind her, gaze through the window with her, and wait patiently for our conversation to continue.