As the crew set up their equipment, and did their various tests, Lao was struck again by how unified people became when they went about a task. How the individual vanishes, and the work takes over. How like a flowing jigsaw a group becomes. How the turbulences and stresses within turned quiet under the hum and necessity of activity. How the self within, with all of its confusions, becomes the engine and charioteer of labour. How differences disappeared. How Jute forgot her fear of death; how Jim forgot his fear of failing; Mistletoe got lost in her sketches and dreams of future paintings. And Lao himself forgot his masks, his angles, and found himself genial and cooperative. He momentarily forgot, also, his affected cynicism, and he flowed with all the motions of the craft of film-making.
And in silent moments between takes, Lao allowed himself to survey the empire of his mind, to see which of the dominions within were in strife or threatening disorder. And he was surprised to find order and general calm throughout the vast dominions of his spirit. The internal governments were in reasonable harmony. A wise democracy reigned in all the realms. No tyrants had emerged, no dictators had begun usurping neighbouring states, and a universal concord prevailed. And he concluded that the gentle ideal behind his Arcadian quest was slowly filtering into and spreading through the vast empire of his spirit, and gradually returning the many nations to their true oneness, their natural unity.
Lao smiled at how temporary peace was in the realms without and the realms within, but he savoured the tender moments of sunlight in the train-driver’s garden.