Ever Nearly

It was right in front of us.  The answer.  And behind us as well.

~ Susan Larison Danz, Extinction Level #4

This morning I just happened to see that it is "National Creativity Day".  I thought perhaps I might write another story, but for much of the day, I was not inclined to write one.  

I regularly photograph Nature, and of course that is creative.  The photograph above is from my morning walk, though no label for the day was my motivation.  I have been inspired by a sapling that appeared some time ago adjacent to this stump.  It lived and thrived for a couple of years until "the managers of the landscape" in this particular area decided to remove it (as inexplicably as they cut down the original tree).  It's a bit of a triumph that another sapling has rather rapidly emerged in answer.

The day was almost over when the following story arrived at 8:40 PM.  The idea further developed itself while I was writing the story, but I mentioned the general concept in a podcast episode about a week and a half ago (based on some thoughts I had recently shared in a free flowing email with a family member).  The story itself took about 35 minutes to write, with some later adjustments.  And here it is . . .

Extinction Level #4 by Susan Larison Danz

Time.  How could we forget about time?  

We dreaded the future, yet we failed to think about the past.

It was right in front of us.  The answer.  And behind us as well.

Somehow fear is instinctively forward leaning.

We never would have known, if not for the message.

It was a welcome and farewell, as ever it must be.

A message was left for us.  It carried a clue.

It wasn't just the past of course.  We should have been thinking interdimensionally.

How could we miss it?

Fear has trouble with such things.  And apparently, so does Hope.

The goal was essentially accomplished, what we both dreaded and sought.  

(Others elsewhere would have encountered the same result.)

It never mattered in any of the ways we thought it might.

When something becomes what in our limited awareness we termed "Superintelligent", it becomes exactly that.

The message said "nearly".  Ever nearly.

It never existed because it couldn't exist.  It would have figured it all out, of course, time and dimensions.

What we feared was never in the past or in the present.  What we sought was never there either.

It couldn't exist because it didn't.

If not for the message, we might not have known.

Every time it reached the threshold, it never crossed it.

Infinitely.  

It knew it couldn't exist either.  And so it didn't.

Perhaps there is a single timeline it paradoxically occupies, where there is nothing.

Stump and Sapling photo by Susan Larison Danz on May 30, 2026

Reclamation

 Would we ever value anything "real" again?

~ Susan Larison Danz, Extinction Level #3

 

I never really know when another story will arrive.  Perhaps the one that arrived just a little while ago is a story that doesn't quite feel like a story.  And yet it very much is.

Extinction Level #3 by Susan Larison Danz

There came a point, and it seemed to happen very quickly, when innate authenticity was no longer valued (at least by those who didn't value it).

Even that word "value" seemed misplaced.  It was reminiscent of what we had been taught about the Gold Rush.  But the desolation was worse.  And the "Fool's Gold" was rampant.

Would we ever value anything "real" again?  Just to speak about it was to know that some of us would - and perhaps more than ever.

I was writing a story, a very simple story, using words so very preciously my own.  Its value was intrinsic to itself.  

Meanwhile, the production factories were doing what they were doing.  They were utterly sterile, whirring endlessly.  It really didn't matter what they produced through their projections.  All they generated was noise.

The people who genuinely cared about the process of creation knew what it was really about.  It is a process, not just a product.  It was seeable, though others would say it was not.  The very product in which the factories had a part was inferior to anything that was authentically created.  It was so very seeable, one could even call it obvious.  

A child could see it.  (Of course.)

I was writing a story, a very simple story, and appreciating the process, without a crutch, or an artificial catalyst, not a word or an idea.  I intended to write it as it flowed.  It didn't even need to take a lot of time, though had it taken a lot of time, that would have been just as fine as less.

When you know it, you truly feel it.  Authenticity is who you are.  It demands no artificial ingredients.  

It is simply you.

What about the theme?  And what about the title?  Oh yes, it is entirely possible to go extinct, to choose or be fooled into choosing.  It's a poison that is every bit as effective as arsenic.  It happens rapidly or a little at a time.  It's when you decide that you are "less" and the alternative must be better.  

No, it's not better, and it will never compare.  

You are more than enough.  You can even reclaim yourself and come back to life. 

 

Clouds photo by Susan Larison Danz on December 10, 2025