There is something relaxing about lazily floating around in a pool of lava on a volcano in the middle of the ocean. Especially with the giant rubber ducky that helps you keep afloat over the billion-degree heat. And overhead, the natives are chanting their disappointment because the creature they deem worthy of sacrificing isn’t being consumed by said lava so that the gods could rain on their crops is all music to my ears.
I’m sure they’ll get over it, but for now, their wails of why I wouldn’t burn is just making me fall asleep.
Too bad that moment of bliss was interrupted by a knock on a faraway door. “It’s open!” I called out. Out from the charred rockface of the volcano above me, a portion of the rock swings open and a startled Yak fell over backward. “Oh yeah, mind the lava!”
“M-Mr. Discord?” the student said, timidly looking down into the tranquil pool of fire. “What teacher doing?”
“What does it look like?” I waved a talon around, “I’m relaxing.”
“Oh… is Yona bothering you?”
I thought it over for a moment. “Probably not, if you were a dragon and took one look at this before doing a cannonball into this realm of ‘Ahh-dom’, I would have said yes. But you’re a creature that’s the equivalent of a walking shag carpet, and as we all know, shag carpets don’t like getting burned. So no, no you’re not bothering me.”
“Can we talk?”
Lowering my sunglasses, I looked up at the Yak. “Something wrong?”
“Just…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “Something Yona have wondered about. Maybe Philosophy teacher could shed light on.”
“Ah! It’s that kind of conversation!” I grinned, letting the rubber ducky I was riding on to grow many tall legs to reach up to her level. “Why didn’t you say so? Come on in! The island isn’t going to lay here and be pretty all by itself without anything admiring it.”
Cautiously, Yona stepped onto the inflated rubber ducky with more legs than a centipede. She sat down next to me as I clapped my talon-paw so that our ride would rise over the mouth of the volcano and into the daylight. The natives were running away screaming at this point, but I paid no attention to them. “So, my student, what brings you into my office today?”
Yona was trying to shift her weight to the center of the duck. “Uh… Can Yona talk to teacher near ground? Yona not like being this high up.”
“Oh very well.” I pointed for where the yellow duck was to go to and it started moving, this time we got closer to the ground to the point the nervous Yak was able to talk. “So, what’s up?”
Being relieved as we make our way down the mountainside, Yona turned to me. “Yona has been learning about other cultures. Friends telling Yona about traditions and how friends see world. Yak can’t help but notice how different they take what spiritual is. Each have different way, Yona think is silly in secret. But that got Yona thinking, so many unique rituals and rites, why have them? Even if traditions silly, why does generation pass down to next?”
“My, going straight to the hot button topic that might demand the comment section to ask for my head on a plate, aren’t we?” I remarked. “Almost immediately I can sense a couple of readers downvoting this story as soon as you asked that question.” Yona tilted her head in confusion. “Point being is that you’re tapping into something that many creatures throughout the world and multi-universes would get emotional about. But it is understandable, nonetheless. After all, if one were to live long enough, you’ll eventually run into someone that would have a different answer to things like who are we; where do we come from; when can I get my happy meal; and where are we going? Am I right?”
Yona nodded. “Yes. Yaks have own answers to all that. We know what truth is, but other creatures claim same thing. Yona finds this confusing.”
“Why?”
“Well… Yona thinks that truth doesn’t obey borders. Like for example: in Yakyakistan, we think sun as first great Yak going across sky. But in Equestria, Celestia raises and lowers sun. However, when it comes to things like math, if one and one make two in Yakyakistan, then Equestria would say that one and one make two. Surely, if one believes what is true, wouldn’t others come to same conclusion?”
By now we’ve reached the forest part of the island where the rubber ducky was now floating among the vegetation.
“You know,” I said leaning back, “many philosophers have made the same observations that you’ve pointed out.”
“But Yak wants to hear what teacher thinks. How does Discord see spirituality?”
Oh boy…
I plucked a bright pink tropical flower to fold it into a bird of paradise. “Speaking as a God of Chaos, I’m actually split on it.”
“Why?”
“Because on the one tentacle, the whole belief thing is admittingly barking mad – at best, it's downright funny to me. Like for example, the ancient Dragons used to believe that the world was once a giant egg and the creator god sprang up one day before putting the pieces of his shell back together so he could make more dragons to torment on. Or the Cult of Luna believed that Moon Butt gave birth to the stars, planets and the earth… I don’t know how she would be able to walk around after all of that either, but that’s neither here nor there. But the funniest one I’ve heard is that there is this big giant universe that’s expanding, and it’ll eventually collapse on itself, and we’re all here just – 'cause.” I chuckled as I let the flower turn into a bird go so it could go find some Fruit Loops. “Of course, for anyone who doesn’t believe, the whole affair is indeed ridiculous. I don't blame them. That going to a statue will cure your cancer, or that you can talk to your dead relatives through a shallow pond, and burning your message will be received by a god because he prefers communication through burnt mail. But hey, as long as such things are enough for someone else to go to war with them because they think they’re weird, I’m a happy guy!”
“So… Discord think there's no point?”
“I never said that,” I told her. “I’m saying that on the outset, these things are downright funny to me. While it’s understandable that someone from a different belief or one that doesn’t have one at all would take one look at these, say that they’re delusional and then never think any further on the issue because they say to themselves ‘I’m right, they’re wrong, no questions asked, that’s how it shall be forever and ever, amen!’ Which is understandable… but not exactly the way to look at things.”
“Huh?” Yona tilted her head as I snatched a coconut out of a tree, cracked it over my knee and out comes a golden chocolate egg. “What teacher mean?”
“Before I answer that, let me ask you: Why do you think that belief in something divine exists?”
I gave her time to think it over, all the while, I decided that there should be a change in scenery. After all, I was starting to get bored with the stereotypical tropical island and instead shifted it to the stereotypical outer space environment. Complete with being in a sleek rocket ship with my smiling face on it zipping past the stars. The Yak looked around confused for a moment but returned to the question just as quickly.
“Well… Yona thinks that beliefs came to explain things. In past, no creature knew what was around, so they make explanations. No idea why sun goes across sky, or why Yaks fall ill, so they think spirit did it.”
Nodding, I let go of the wheel and let us run randomly in space. “That’s one way of looking at it, but it’s not the only way.”
“How so?”
“Looking through the lens of the countless philosophers that came before, the beliefs of creatures didn’t come about because what they think is true – rather, they come about because they want it to be true.”
“Is that same thing?”
My face scrunched up. “Not quite. Let me give you an example.” I reached into my space seat to grab out a remote and change the dazzling stars to a light puppet show. “There is a myth where a mother had her foal grew very sick before dying. The distraught mother prays to the Goddess of Life to help her. Soon after, the Goddess comes in to tell the mother, gently and calmly, that this child did not die, but rather had fallen asleep, so she tells the foal to get up. And she does so. This simple tale may sound like nonsense from an outsider’s point of view, but to me, this isn’t something to dismiss altogether.”
I turn off the puppet show and look back to the where the rocket was going. While I still didn’t take the wheel inside an asteroid belt, I continued. “Regardless what creature you are, if you’re a parent that, despite everything you try at, you end up watching your child become sick to the point of not being able to get out of bed. And when things get so bad that you watch your child slip away into the grave, then I’d bet even you would want to believe in miracles regardless of what the laws of physics and biology say. And you have to have nerves of steel not to wake up in the middle of the night from the pains of depression and guilt that maybe there was something – anything you could have done to keep them alive. Or at the very least, hope that your loved one is somewhere at peace and no longer suffering.”
Yona looked down at her hooves, thoughtful. “So… Teacher saying they came about for emotional reason?”
After getting out of the asteroid field, I nodded. “It’s something that I’ve noticed. All these countless years since the start of the universe, and I can’t help but observe how emotional living beings are. As much as some creatures would like to convince themselves of how logical and reasonable they evolved into, the truth of the matter is that emotion has an enormous say in how we behave. Trust me, I should know. As a being of chaos, I tend to get swayed easily with all sorts of things – joy one moment and anger the next. Jealously one day and regret the next month. Even Yaks aren’t excluded from this.”
Yona nodded. “Yaks have temper. But not always. At times, Yaks best at emotions.”
“And the smashing?”
“T-That’s different. We smash because… oh…” She realized. “Yaks believe by smashing; it keeps Yaks from becoming evil. If Yak doesn’t smash non-living thing then…”
I nodded. “Now you’re starting to get it. But that’s one piece of the puzzle.” I pulled on the brakes to slow down. “Despite how silly the actions themselves can be, part of the reason behind it is coming from a tender place. It’s to give comfort and reassurance, even when in reality there isn’t any in a life that’s already painful. At the same time, if we’re really being honest, belief is the least interesting part in all of this debate. I’ve said, there are other reasons.” The space ship came to a halt. “Look at where we are now.”
“Where we…” that was as far as Yona got before her mouth hung loose, and she has good reason to. Before us there extend to oblivion trillions upon trillions of stars. The glimmer of lights in every color, swirling about in galaxies and supernovae, each one in its own flows and eddies that twist about like milk in water. Each direction without any defining shape or form, but still beautiful.
“You know, when I was very young and I felt that I wanted to spend some time alone, this right here was my spot. My quiet spot that literally gave me space to reflect on things. And no matter how many times I come here; I never get bored with the view.”
“Magnificent.” Was the only thing to come out of my student’s mouth.
I nodded. “There’s another point to the whole spirituality thing – awe. What I mean by that is just a sense to put our lives and problems into perspective by forgetting ourselves for just a minute in something awesome as this. Countless cults in the past were very good at pointing out things that are way bigger than ourselves, and as such, they remind us to behave kindly to others. Of course, this too can be carried away with obscure material and superstition so it would put many creatures off. However, in places like this,” I gestured to the galaxies and milky ways. “It gives you a reminder of not only where you are, but how big your problems really are.”
“How big problems are?” Yona inquired.
“Well to give you an idea,” I pulled out a telescope and handed it over to her, after pointing out a very specific spot in the universe I tell her, “Look right over there, what do you see?”
It took her a moment to peer through and look at what I wanted her to see. “More stars and tiny blue dot.”
“Believe it or not, that tiny blue dot is home.”
Yona was shocked. “But… that can’t be! Home looks so-”
“Small?” I completed her sentence. “And compare that to what is surrounding that planet, what we are seeing right now is only a microscopic sample of the universe. There are more stars and planets out here then there are grains of sand in the world we know so well. So tell me Yona, compared to what we think is important, of family arguments to wars, from crying over fallen ice-cream to the unfairness of politics, what are they compared to the rest of infinity?”
The Yak lowered down the telescope, her face stricken by sadness. “Then… nothing matters?”
“Ah! That’s where the next point of showing you this comes in. Something that my dear Fluttershy would appreciate.”
“What’s that?”
“Kindness.” Leaning back in my space chair, I let my toe guide the ship. “If I’m being honest, before my reformation, I would say that everything alive tends to do nothing but think about themselves and their problems. Ponies alone barely care for other creatures, animals or even the planet they live on. Cults in the past once tried to give holy commandments to help to develop some ethical sense, but if one were to view it all from this perspective, it becomes something more powerful than that. A sense of how unbelievably rare and fragile all this life stuff really is. Since we’re isolated on a tiny blue dot in a vast universe, the miracle of life is positively freakish. If any leader on that planet were to be at this vantage point, suddenly, they’ll look at others not as enemies or competitors, but that they would see they all have one thing in common; life.”
“So… spirituality gives awe, and have Yaks focus on things that isn’t Yaks.”
I shrugged, “That’s one way of putting it.” My toe slowed down the ship to where we could see Equestria and its lands below. “When you take a moment to step back from your own problems, to not become yourself for a split second, you’d find that you can become sympathetic to those who are not you in any regard. This is what beliefs used to do, but many have tended to focus more on the ritual then the intent of it. One could bring themselves to a point of divinity by all sorts of ways, listening to beautiful music, looking up at the stars at night, taking a nap in a pool of lava, eating a slice of cheese, watching a sunrise. Just things that would make one be both in awe of what is around them and empathy to those that would need that tenderness.”
Yona put a cloven hoof to her chin. “So what teacher saying: belief tame emotional hurt. That spirituality gets creatures awareness how big problems really are. A call not to be selfish.” She frowned. “But Yona not satisfied.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“If that true, why have rituals and build mighty temples? Why have holidays? Could anyone just be told once and be done?”
I grinned. “Ah! Now you’re finally getting into the juicier bits of this topic!” With a snap, we went from outer space and into Ancient Southern Equestria, complete with pyramids, sand, and a festival conducted by bald priests and a fire pit. As expected, the ponies below didn’t notice the shiny spaceship just floating above their heads. On any other day, I would get their attention, but I had a lesson to teach. “As much as non-believers would love to point out all the horrors that have been committed in the name of the divine, it’s more fascinating to point out the other stuff these beliefs get up to. For example, the way they regularly gather a good chunk of the population and, strikingly, tell them to be nice to one another instead of hitting them with sticks. Or the way they create a sense of community, acting as hosts for important occasions like weddings, funerals and the occasional sacrificial burnings.”
My student looked down at the firepits. “Are those camels?”
“It’s a once a year thing, but don’t worry.” I waved a dismissive paw. “This was a way to let off some steam and hope for a good harvest for these ponies. But where was I? Oh yes! Other cults, including this one, strive to emphasize that grandpa and the child, the big chief and the microscopic guy learn to see each other as equals. These beliefs use rituals, like this one, were made to point stuff out to us and lodge it in our forgetful, Alzheimer’s like minds. For example, that the seasons are changing or that it’s time to remember your ancestors; that the moon looks pretty; that your child has turned into a resentful teenager; that you can make a fresh start; or that it’s rather amazing that there’s cheesecake on the table.”
A wave of my claw and the scene changes again. This time towards a Pegasi temple where directly beneath it in its amphitheater, a play was going on complete with masks. The mode of transportation too changed as we lay about on clouds in togas. “Since ancient times, all the cults of the past know we’re not just intellectual creatures, so they carefully appeal to us through art and crafts with beauty. Of course, we think of beauty in one category as a trivial and shallow thing while putting truth and depth in another. These guys,” I gestured to the actors below, “brilliantly joined them together. So, they end up building temples, shrines, and sanctuaries that use beauty to give depth to important ideas. They use the resources of art to remind us of what matters. Their art, from their music to those cheap little keychains are meant to be instructive to us. It’s directed at making us feel things like calm, pity, and awe.”
“But Yaks don’t believe what ancient Pegasi believe.” Yona pointed out.
“True.” I nodded. “We may no longer believe in their myths, but the needs and longings that made us make up these stories still go on. Deep down, we’re lonely and violent. We long for beauty, wisdom, and purpose. We want to live for something more than just ourselves. Society tells us to direct our hopes in romantic love and professional success. All the while trying to distract us with news, movies, and emptying our wallets in the market square. However, these are not enough, especially when you’re awake at three in the morning.”
Finally, to drive the point home to Yona, I teleported us to one last place. With a click of my talon, we lay in the snow. At first, she was rather confused until I pointed towards a group of Yaks in the woods. Her eyes went watery as we witness from the bushes a family of Yaks braiding a younger Yona’s mane. “We need reminders to be good; to have places to reawaken awe; something to kick start our kinder, less selfish impulses. Universal things which need tending to like delicate flowers and rituals that bring us together.”
I turned to her, “So if you were to ask me, I think the choice isn’t between the world of worship and the rational world as it is now. The challenge is to learn from these practices so we can fill the secular world with replacements for the things we long ago invented these beliefs to provide.”
After wiping the tear from her eye, she said, “Thank you, Mr. Discord.” Then the bell rang, and the illusion melted away back into my classroom.
“Welp! Lunchtime is over,” I clapped my talon-paw. “Sorry for talking your ears off.”
She smiled. “Discord gave Yona new perspective. Yona not feeling lost now.”
“All I did was give you a nugget of wisdom,” I told her, pulling out said nugget of wisdom out from my ears. “Will that be all?”
She grimaced at the earwax covered nugget. “Yona thinks should get back to class now.”
“Suit yourself,” I shrugged before tossing the nugget into my mouth, “unless there’s anything else, you know where to find me.”
The Yak thanked me before heading out the door. Soon enough, my new students came in wearing football gear. I smiled. ‘Good for them,’ I thought, ‘they came prepared for learning Hobbes.’