Brahma, the Hindu creator god, is known for his knowledge. However, as I mentioned in an earlier erroneous entry, he wasn’t always on top of his game. Like all of us, he was ever so slightly error-prone, especially early in the morning of eternity, a feature I find endearing in a demiurge.

When Brahma first woke after a nearly infinite nap in the formless nirvana of Brahman, he was groggy and confused. It didn’t help that everything was dark. Light switches hadn’t been invented yet, so there wasn’t much enlightenment to be found in that direction.

Brahma didn’t know where he was or even who he was. He woke alone in emptiness and asked the eternal questions, “Who am I? Where do I come from? Why am I here?”

Like each of us, he began to try to sort the situation, and like each of us, he felt the best way to feel it out was to figure out what he wasn’t.

Not being there myself, I can’t tell you exactly what that looked like, but I imagine it went something like this:

“I am not the ground that I stand upon.”

Flump! Feet unfurled and firm flooring rose up to meet them. Let’s assume plump toes and painted pedicures are part of the package, shall we?

“I am not the breeze blowing through the hairs of my strong calves.”

Whoosh! An experimental gust mussed the hairs sprouting from Brahma’s strong, new calves.

And so on until the cosmos was crowded with things that didn’t seem to be Brahma.

But, of course, as we’ve established, he was still sluggish and probably half contemplating curling back up in his lotus blossom bed and trying again after a few more hours of sleep.

Yes, witchling, once he began to do things, hours were a natural outcome.

Maybe that’s even what caused him to realize he’d made a mistake or three. Maybe the unintended consequence of time put pressure on him that he hadn’t expected. Maybe he began to feel rushed, and in his rush, he became agitated and tapped his foot in frustration. At just that moment, a pinching beetle might have emerged and pinched the plump toe, as pinching beetles are prone to do.

Brahma might have cried out, “What a catastrophe! Who ever came up with pinching beetles and painful toes? Me? It was me? Oh! There I am, and what a terrible idea I’ve had. Are there more of these bad ideas?”

Don’t laugh! We are now older and wiser than newly-formed Brahma was at that pivotal point in his existence. He was young and slumbersome and bugged by a few blunders he’d made, and haven’t we all been there?

Us old crones, we’ve endured a lifetime of bad ideas and their consequences. We know very well that there are an infinite number of bad ideas to be had, but Brahma was a baby at the time, and have you ever been tasked with creating an entire universe first thing in the morning? I didn’t think so. It’s much more complex than making an omelet, and few of us have mastered even scrambling an egg without at least a cup of coffee first to get our head straight.

Brahma was growing wiser, though, girls, so cut him some slack.

He said, “I’d better sit here for a minute on my lotus petal bed and gather my wits about me before I really make a mess of things.”

As he meditated on his mistakes and how to get things back in order, he saw the beginning and ending of the universe and how it all pans out, and he realized that it wasn’t so bad despite the pinching beetles and the painful toes.

It could be better, of course, but it could be worse.

He also realized that he didn’t have to go on making everything himself. He could delegate and give the creatures he’d conjured up some creative license. In his now infinite wisdom, he realized that all these clever critters were as error-prone as he had been upon waking, but that they’d figure things out like he had, and they’d probably surprise him with ideas that he himself might never ideate, some good and some bad. Maybe he’d even inspire a few.

“After all, apples don’t fall far from their trees,” he said, coining the first aphorism, which is still in use today. He’d learned that the hard way sitting under an apple tree and being knocked on the head a few times, so at the time, it was less metaphor and more statement of the obvious.

The point is this, witchling: nobody gets it right on the first try, so why should you?

As I think about it, I realize that there’s more than one point, dear, as is often the case.

For example, another point is that sometimes you just need to wake up and start stumbling through your day without knowing what’s in store, and sometimes you need to sit still and give your brain time to catch up with creation.

Yet another point is that errors are baked into the apple pie, and that without them, there wouldn’t be much flavor. Probably the first bakers didn’t bother with cinnamon because who would ever think a twig could be so delicious? It’s nonsense until it isn’t.

The point is there are many points, precious. But don’t get bogged down in that. Wake up, witchling, and make your own mistakes. You are a divine creatix, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

xo Sheridan Goodluck

Artwork: Rosenzweig mit Käfer und Biene by Rache Ruyschl