Dr. Wayne Dyer
Gifts from Eykis
OceanofPDF .comTo the pr omise  of Eykis: a miracle for our time! and 
To the memory of John Lennon, who asked us to “imagine”  
that the world could be as one
OceanofPDF .comReality is not a concept; r eality is my daily life . —J. Krishnamurti
OceanofPDF .comContents
Epigraph
Introduction
Prologue
 
Part One  
 Uranus
Chapter 1. The Arrival
Chapter 2. Eykis
Chapter 3. Second V isit
 
Part T wo 
 Earth
Chapter 4. First Observations
Chapter 5. Eykis’ Final Observations
Chapter 6. Eykis’ Proposal
 
Part Three  
 Eykis’ Gifts
Chapter 7. Reality-Only Conversations
Chapter 8. Some Reality-Only Reactions
Chapter 9. Secrets of the Universe
Epilogue
 
Acknowledgments
Books by W ayne W . DyerCopyright
About the Publisher
OceanofPDF .comINTRODUCTION
Throughout history storytelling has been a significant avenue of
communication. From Aesop’ s Fables  and biblical parables to Jonathan
Livingston Seagull  and many additional ancient and modern sources, we
can learn readily by stepping aside to the position of objective observer . There the sting of criticism is not so painful. The action and resulting
consequences happened to the fox or bird or prodigal son. Y et with very
little ef fort we see how the truth and universal essence belong to us all. W e
are moved to new perceptions, emotions, and behavior through these
“fictional” examples. Science and technology have brought us forward into a grand new world
with greater possibilities than ever . But in many ways our attitudes and
feelings have not evolved equally . We are less equipped to deal with the
opportunities presented today because we drag along some unhelpful beliefs
and misperceptions of the realities of our world. What would be the reactions of an intelligent visitor from another planet
to our complex systems here on Earth? How would we view that visitor ’s
culture? Can we compare favorably? Are we ready to accept an objective
view? Gifts fr om Eykis  is an example of one exchange encounter between
an Earthling and a citizen from Uranus. Both are peaceful, open, life-loving
people who seek to enhance the well-being of all. Through them I have
been able to observe where we are in our societies and speculate on where
we might go should we choose the realities recommended. The parable
format may enable more people to slip into the role of observer , but
ultimately we all must look inward and see ourselves. As you will discover , Eykis lives. Long live Eykis! WAYNE W. DYER
OceanofPDF .comPROLOGUE
The library had been designated as the place to which rented academic caps
and gowns were to be returned. I stood among the stacks full of leather and
paper , the traditional symbols of wisdom, my hood of doctoral rank askew
about my shoulders like a limp noose, the rolled parchment certifying my
professional qualifications tucked under my elbow as I held a copy of an
essay by Bertrand Russell. It was about “happiness”—something which I
had searched for and never found among or between the lines of the
seemingly endless texts I had read on my way to this day . Behind me someone approached. I heard the quiet shuf fling and knew
who it was. There were those at the university who called him eccentric;
others, less kind, called him “senile.” But in the worldwide community of
scientists, particularly physicists, he was still recognized as a giant. His feet
shuffled slowly but his brain leaped and soared, occasionally to places no
one else could dream of, let alone follow . I turned and smiled a genuinely respectful welcome. “Good afternoon,” I
said. “Indeed, yes. And I have a Gift for you.” The professor ’s English was
sprinkled with more capitals than most of us used. He handed me a bundle
of mathematical equations which I did not recognize. “Long ago, in my early days of Experimentation, I had an Assistant. He
would not allow Acknowledgment, for he said that as a V isitor , his presence
might be a Disruption. Actually , he deserved the greater Credit, but he
explained the Responsibility was mine, and so should be all of the Results.”
“You’ve never mentioned him before that I can remember .”
“No. No. Nor shall I ever again. But he left me the Urantian Formulas . I’ve tried to understand them, but I have only a glimmer . He said there
would come a W illing Learner to take up the Journey . This was forty years
ago. I’ve looked and waited.” He sighed. “Y ou are the One.” A small smile
began to move across the wrinkled face and glowed in triumph finally in his
eyes.“Me? What did you say this is?” I asked incredulously . “The Urantian Formulas . It has to do with Molecular T ransport. My
journey is nearly done, but yours begins Here,” he said, tapping the typed
pages. “ Bon voyage , Learner . Perhaps one day—the T eacher .”
He smiled again, gently , and turned to shuf fle quietly away . “Thank you for the Gift,” I called, still puzzled. W ithout pausing, he
waved a slow farewell salute and was soon out of sight beyond the next
library stack. OceanofPDF .com Part One 
URANUS
OceanofPDF .com1 
 The Arrival
It was dif ficult to believe. This place called Uranus appear ed to be an exact
replica of Earth. After years of decoding the Urantian Formulas , I had
made my first successful self-transport to another planet, and as luck would
have it, I landed in a place that appeared to duplicate home. From all
outward appearances, everything on Uranus was precisely as it was back on
Earth. I had assumed that even though I would remain within my own solar
system, I would have an opportunity to see something new , something
genuinely differ ent, if I traveled to a very distant planet. I thought that
Uranus would be far enough from Earth for me to experience a whole new
reality—creatures made of gases who changed shape, or at any rate
something to equal the vivid imagination of the Star T rek writers whose
work I admired so much. I had pictured myself moving about in time warps,
leaping forward or backward millions of years by some magical ability to
transcend my body . The years of anticipation and hard work had not
prepared me for this shock: there seemed to be no dif ference at all! Authors and researchers who considered the possibility of a duplicate
planet usually imagined mirror images, reversals of good and evil and the
like. However , never , even in my most fanciful moments, had I expected to
find a literal  sister planet, a place that exactly duplicated Earth. It was
almost as if the residents of Uranus had undertaken to deliberately
reproduce our world, step by step in every single aspect. Their great oceans,
mountain ranges, and deserts were in exact proportion to those of Earth. They even had identical names. There was not only a Sahara Desert, there
was even a Sahara Hotel . I suspected they had observed us with a very
powerful telescope, and faithfully reconstructed Earth on Uranus. Certainly
they had every detail right. T raffic jams took place at five o’clock in the
afternoon in all the major cities, there was starvation in the “Third W orld,”there were huge shopping centers and fuel-ef ficient small cars imported
from “Japan.” They hadn’ t missed a thing. I was beginning to think I had been hoodwinked. Perhaps I had been
tricked into believing that I was the first Earthling to visit another planet
and in fact I had never even left home. Perhaps my secret research on the
Formulas had been penetrated, and I was going to be used as propaganda
bait to fool the Soviets—allowing the enemy to think we had achieved
some technological breakthrough that did not really exist. I thought I’d seen
a movie about this at one time. But somehow I knew better . I had felt the
impact of molecular transport. I had experienced  myself hurtling away from
Earth through the void of space. I was sure, but the doubt lingered. It struck
me that the only way to verify that I was truly on Uranus was to stop
looking at the external images, and to see if in fact the people themselves
were also duplicate Earthlings. From all outward appearances they seemed
to be. I decided to select one of these Uranus people to interview in depth; if he
or she turned out to be exactly like all the Earthlings I’d met, I would return
home immediately and develop the ability for travel beyond  our solar
system. I hadn’ t come billions of miles simply to see my own world. I had
begun this project with a desire for adventure and excitement. The prospect
of fitting myself into a new world of people identical to those I had left
behind was not particularly exciting. I settled into my room at one of Uranus’ finest Holiday Inns, flipped on
the television, and began to ponder how I could learn about the inhabitants
of this world that was at one and the same time alien and familiar to me. The irony of my predicament did not escape me. I was in a strange land,
and yet I felt as if I’d never left home. Even this hotel room was like those I
had seen a thousand times before—miniature soap bars, a tiny ounce of
shampoo in a brown plastic bottle, a kind of soiled cleanliness to the
bedspread, and an unread copy of the Gideon Bible in the dresser drawer . My mind was filled with questions, and yet I found myself struggling
with the “How-to-go-about-it” thinking that I often employed to avoid
taking any action. I had learned a long time ago that the way to make sure
that something got done was to start it. But I’d also learned how to combat
that notion, which required ef fort, sweat, and all those qualities I loved to
observe in others and to eschew in myself. Instead of taking char ge, I used
my predicament to keep my mind focused on what I should or shouldn’ t do.I moved to a more advanced form of evasiveness. I considered the questions
I would want to ask. Do you have wars? Are you preoccupied with rules? What about cancer , and how do you see this mystery we call death? Do you
have schools and do they emphasize grades and obedience? Do you wear
designer jeans, and if so, why? Do you have the same history as we do on
Earth? Do you know about us? W ill you ever visit, and if you did, would
you be friendly? Do you have nuclear weapons and a Jane Fonda? Are you
really the same identical creatures as we are inside as well as outside? Do
you have emotions, fears, anxiety , and tranquilizers? The questions were
bombarding my consciousness almost as fast as I could record them on my
miniature portable tape recorder . (Could I replace the batteries here? I
wondered.) As I said these words to myself into the tape recorder , the word “anxiety”
was repeated in the room. I couldn’ t believe it. Until then I had been
ignoring the television reporter , who looked exactly like all those I’d seen
across America. The Aryan model with “television good looks,” who could
have slid into the vacant seat of any local television newscaster in Seattle,
Minneapolis, Atlanta, or T oronto without anyone knowing the dif ference,
had been reading his lines so vacuously that I had tuned him out while I
pondered the enormity of the task that lay ahead. But just when I was
saying into the tape recorder , “Do you have emotions, fears, anxiety , and
tranquilizers?” I heard the first words on the newscast that made me realize
that everything on Uranus was not exactly as it was on Earth. It was almost
as if I had been slapped in the face. Segueing into the next segment, before going into a commercial, Mr . Aryan Good Looks had said, “That concludes the national news, stay tuned
for the local stories, to be followed by sports, weather , and the anxiety
attack reports.”
I had half listened to the national news, which, peppered with empty
phrases like “leading economic indicators,” “student protest
demonstrations,” and “presidential study commissions,” sounded much the
same as on Earth. The local news, weather , and even Joe Jock sports reports
were also familiar , and I now listened to the chronology of useless, dreary
information with unabated ennui, as I waited to hear the one facet of the
evening report that would give me my first clue to these people on Uranus
who had built a culture which, until now , seemed just like mine.“Stay tuned, after this report from a light beer , for tomorrow’ s anxiety
attack report.”
An anxiety attack report on the newscast! I felt a flurry of excitement. What the hell was an anxiety attack report, and what was it doing as a
regular feature on the evening news? The report was brief and to the point. “Hello, this is Eykis, with your evening anxiety attack report. Chances of
anxiety attacking are high in the upper altitudes, with a diminished
possibility within the city limits. There is an 80 percent chance of anxiety
on Friday , with a decreased likelihood on the weekend. By Monday the
forecast is for almost zero anxiety , even in the upper ranges 6,000 feet
above sea level. However , tonight’ s anxiety attack risk is exceedingly high,
so I would ur ge each of you to check your stock of preventive medicine
right away . You probably won’ t need it over the weekend, but by mid-week
the likelihood of a new anxiety front moving into the area is exceedingly
high. This is Eykis, signing of f. This report has been brought to you by
Nopain, the only product of its kind containing 850 milligrams of anxiety
prevention, to help you when you need it most—that is, when an
unexpected anxiety attack appears out of nowhere. Remember: Y ou get the
most value from Nopain when anxiety is attacking.”
I sat there in shock. An anxiety attack report on the evening news! This
was something I would never have imagined even in my craziest moments. Fortunately , I had had the presence of mind to tape the report as it came
through the television. I put my tape recorder into rewind and played the
report again, and again. On the third replay , I timed the message. The report
had lasted one minute. I listened to it over and over thinking that probably it
was a joke. Perhaps this Eykis person was an evening news satirist, similar
to characters on our newscasts who posed as social critics and made fools of
themselves, shouting into the camera with phony anger at some politician or
social evil that they found particularly of fensive. Y ou knew that if they
really believed in what they said, they would be doing something actively
about what they pretended to dislike instead of shouting aimlessly at their
enemies over the airwaves. I have always felt that by taking refuge in what
others are or are not doing properly , critics show that they themselves are
not doers. Eykis was nothing like that. She was direct, she appeared to be serious,
and she communicated personal concern about her anxiety attack report.The signal she sent me was very special; I simply couldn’ t believe that it
was a put-on. Nonetheless I decided to tune to the next newscast and see if
what I had watched was a trick or the real thing. Sure enough, thirty
minutes later on a competing network program, another anxiety attack
report was featured, with almost identical warnings to the populace. I made the decision right there that I was going to seek out this Eykis
person whose sincerity had touched me so deeply . I needed a sensitive
Uranus resident whom I could trust with my own identity . Something deep
within me said, “This is the person. She is committed to helping and she
speaks the truth in clear , simple terms.” I was certain about her because I
was already obsessed. Somewhere in the core of my being I always know
when someone is right and in this case I knew it instantly . Long ago I had
trained myself to ignore the rules under which most Earthlings operate, and
to consult only my inner voices. If anyone ur ged me to act, feel, or think in
a specific way , I simply ignored all of the “I don’ t know if I shoulds,” and
listened to my inner voice. Early in my life I’d learned that the only thing I
ever regretted was what I failed to do out of some self-inflicted fear or
prohibition originating in the rules of others. T o be sure, I did many things
which I disliked or which turned out wrong, but I never felt any painful
regret for what I did. I simply vowed to avoid repeating such behavior . Consequently , I learned a great deal from my errors. Regret came in lar ge
doses only when I wanted to act but did not out of fear of rejection or , even
worse, failure. Everywhere I went as a youngster I found adults following rules that had
been passed down through the generations. Many of them had no basis at
all in what was real. For example, I heard it said thousands of times that “It
takes a long time to really know someone, and even longer to know if you
love the person.” But my own inner voices always told me quite the
opposite. I could tell in a few moments that I loved a person and I knew that
I didn’ t need the “test of time” to verify it for me. Nevertheless, I was always being criticized for saying, “I love you” too
soon. “Y ou don’ t know me, how could you really know you love me? If it’ s
that easy for you to say , how can I know I am really special?” (As if being
special had anything to do with elapsed time, or , even more absurd, if one
loved more than one person, somehow neither , instead of both, was special.) I abandoned the rules to which others paid so much tribute, and I became
the subject of much consternation throughout my life. Nevertheless, despiteattacks on my character because I chose to live by my instincts, I found that
I was never disappointed in ME for trusting my first impulses when it came
to how and when I loved others. It was always others who had the most
difficulty with my quick assessments of whom I could or couldn’ t love. On
a first meeting, a first date, or a first anything, others were always careful to
say only the right thing while I blithely went my way trusting myself and
proud of my ability to ignore rules about how one ought to feel. It was this instinct for trust that was working for me in the bleak hotel
room on Uranus. I had only seen an image of this woman called Eykis on
the television screen, and yet I knew that I loved her . She was someone I
could trust to give me an insight into her people. Although she seemed so
familiar that she could have been from my home town, she was my first
contact on Uranus with anything dramatically dif ferent from what I had
known on Earth. The anxiety attack report that she delivered with such
concern was the new element. This was my first moment of genuine inner
excitement. Until then I was disappointed at this planet called Uranus,
modeled after Earth. Or vice versa. Did we model ourselves after them? I
ruled that out right away . On Earth we certainly had no anxiety attack
reports. I was going to find out, right from the person who delivered that
report, everything I’d need to know to file my own account of the residents
of Uranus. I was thrilled at the thought of it, since until then I had figured
that my final statement on this entire visit, this project of assessing Uranus
in all its many facets, would be summed up in a report composed of one
word: “Ditto.”
I knew that “ditto” would not impress my fellow Earthlings. If nothing
else, Eykis was going to save me from having the distinction of being the
first space traveler to file a one-word summation. I dozed of f thanking this
Eykis lady . My instincts were finely tuned. T omorrow I must find and talk
with this marvelous woman whom I knew instinctively that I loved. OceanofPDF .com2 
 Eykis
She was the most approachable person I had ever encountered. I called the
studio just once the next morning and we set up an appointment for four
o’clock in the afternoon. Neither of us made any clumsy ef fort to be polite,
and she didn’ t hem and haw about a busy schedule. I had planned an entire
scenario to make myself as convincing as possible, But she made
everything very easy . “Hello, is this Eykis, the person who gave that anxiety attack report on
the evening news yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“I’m a visitor here, and I’d very much like to meet with you as soon as
possible,” I said, of fering her every opportunity to refuse such a brazen
request politely . “What is it you would like to know?” she asked. “It’s very dif ficult for me to explain over the telephone. I would really
appreciate it if we could meet. Y ou can be sure there’ s no danger ,” I said to
reassure her . “I’m sorry , what is that last word you used?” she asked. “Danger ,” I repeated. “I’m not familiar with that word. What does it mean?”
“I mean I wouldn’ t cause you any harm. I simply want to talk with you.”
“Again you use a word with which I am unfamiliar . Harm? What is this
harm and danger you use?”
“Would it be all right if I explained them to you when we meet in
person?” I asked. “Certainly ,” she responded, as if she were confused but still willing to
discuss the matter . “What time is convenient for you?” I asked. “I’ll meet you at four this afternoon. I’ll come to your place, since you
are visiting and perhaps unfamiliar with the transportation.” There was nota trace of suspicion or doubt in her voice. I gave her the name of the hotel and that was it. In three hours I would be
holding my very first conversation with an inhabitant of this place called
Uranus. It was becoming increasingly obvious to me that my initial
assessment of Uranus as a replica of Earth was incorrect. I jotted down three items in my notebook:
1. Anxiety Attack Report? 2. No concept of Danger? 3. No concept of Harm? I thought about the phone conversation with Eykis again. She hadn’ t
doubted me for a moment. There was absolute trust implicit in her voice,
and she had made it all so easy . I spent the rest of the afternoon walking about the city . Again I was
searching for anything that would provide me with a clue to the uniqueness
of Uranus. The dif ferences that would have made my discovery more
impressive were minimal and not really noticeable without careful scrutiny . I did not want to spend my time as a tourist, and the idea of uncovering
subtle distinctions was obscured by the excitement of my forthcoming
meeting with Eykis. She was the person I was counting on to give me
honest answers to my questions and unlock the mysteries for me. I began to
see the folly of looking for external dif ferences. I had noted some, but I
decided I would stop looking for outward appearances on which to base my
investigation. I would follow my own instincts and listen to the people
themselves. I would focus on Eykis. I simply could not get her innocent
honesty out of my mind. We spent three hours together that afternoon and evening. When Eykis
left, my faith in the old bromide “Don’ t judge a book by its cover” had been
renewed. Uranus might have all the external trappings of my home planet,
but in fact it had almost no resemblance to Earth. Before meeting with
Eykis, I had spent my time trying to unlock the secrets of a culture without
looking into the one thing that constitutes a culture in the first place, the
people themselves. I had stared blindly at the externals, instead of going tothe source. All the information we have about Earth’ s prehistoric people is
based on the same mistaken principle. W e leap to conclusions about these
people on the basis of their artifacts—their pottery , hunting tools, homes,
and so on. W ould I want to be assessed and understood on the basis of the
car I drive or the shape of my eating utensils? Does a fork tell anyone
anything about me? I use the fork because I was taught to do so, but I could
also use my fingers, or anything else available to get the food into my
stomach. When the car isn’ t working I walk or hitchhike. But what does any
of that tell you about me? Very little, of course, yet we make many absurd
assumptions about Neanderthal Man without having any more information
about them than our forks reveal about us. I knew that our collective knowledge about all cultures prior to our own
was infinitesimal, and yet I had begun my visit to Uranus with the same
erroneous assumptions. I had studied Eastern philosophy extensively . I
knew about looking inward, I had even said many times to acquaintances,
“It’s not what happens around us, or to us, but within us that really counts,”
but when it came to applying it, I had slipped miserably . After three hours
with Eykis I would never for get that truth again. By seven o’clock at night
on my second day on Uranus, I had stopped looking at the external
similarities between our two worlds. They had become meaningless. I shall never for get my first conversation with Eykis. I asked her if she
would mind if I taped our talk. She had no objections. In fact, during the
more than three hours we were together , she did not object to anything. I
decided to begin with total honesty . I explained who I was, how I had
arrived, and what I was doing on Uranus. I devoted several tense moments
to trying to explain as clearly as possible, hoping that she would believe me
and that she would not feel threatened, or want to turn me over to the
authorities, who would subject me to endless questioning. (I simply
couldn’ t get rid of my parochial habit of seeing the inhabitants of Uranus as
I was, rather than as they were.) Eykis did not appear surprised at what I
told her . Without flinching, she asked me what I wanted to know . I
suppressed a strong desire to tell her all about Earth and, instead, asked
what I thought would be a startling question. “Why do you believe me? How do you know that I’m not lying and
haven’ t come to exploit you in some way? I could be a kook of some sort.”
She looked genuinely puzzled. “I don’ t know what you mean by lying,”
she replied. “Please explain.”Suddenly I was on the receiving end of my own clever salvo. “L ying, you
know , not telling the truth,” I responded. “But the truth is all there is,” she answered quickly . “How is it possible
not to be truthful?”
“Well, if I were trying to hurt you, and as a way of deceiving you I said I
was an Earthling here to learn about you, when I was actually intent on
harming you, that would be lying,” I responded. “Well,” she replied, “you now have the first dif ference that you can
record for your report. On Uranus, people cannot do that. W e are not
equipped for , as you say , lying. Everything that everyone says is the way it
is. Here on Uranus we can only operate from what is real. Why would
anyone ever even want to lie? W ouldn’ t that make talking with each other
impossible?” she asked, looking perplexed. “But people on Earth don’ t always lie,” I said. “Only sometimes when it
is necessary or convenient.”
“If people lie to each other sometimes, how do you know when they’re
lying and when they’re telling the truth? Do they announce beforehand
which is a lie and which is truth so that they can communicate with each
other?” she asked quite seriously . “It would break down the purpose of lying if one announced it
beforehand,” I said. “Well then, I take it that people don’ t communicate truthfully on your
planet. I wonder how that’ s possible,” she said. “Let’ s move to another area,” I suggested. “Are you lying or telling the truth?” she wanted to know in all
seriousness. “I’ll give you my pledge,” I answered. “I won’ t lie to you ever .”
“Welcome to Uranus,” she said. “But could you please tell me what you
mean by a pledge  and also by ever.”
“Well, a pledge is a promise to tell the truth,” I of fered. “So now I understand why we have no such word here. And ever? ”
“When I said I won’ t lie to you ever, I meant from now on. As long as we
know each other . Forever I will never lie.”
She seemed even more bewildered. “This idea of ever and forever is new
to me. All I know about is now , and it’ s enough for me to know that you
will not lie to me now . I can’ t imagine how you can know what you will do,
as you say , forever. But if that’ s how you feel now , it sounds fine to me.Please know , however , that if you change your mind before forever arrives,
it is also fine with me.”
“But forever never arrives,” I protested. “It is forever .”
“So if it never arrives, we’re both talking about the same thing, the now . I
guess we needn’ t discuss it any further ,” she concluded. I was becoming exhausted because of my inability to phrase my thoughts
and questions to accommodate her strangely sensible perceptual mentality . I
was becoming bogged down in my own confusing questions and answers. She showed no exasperation, only mild befuddlement at my inconsistency . Her logic was inescapable, but surely they couldn’ t have built an entire
planet so identical to Earth and still be so reality-based that she didn’ t
understand simple concepts like lying, forever , pledge, danger , and harm. Of course, if they didn’ t exist for her , could she understand them? But wait,
I was capable of understanding concepts that didn’ t exist for me. Perhaps
Uranus people were inferior after all. I certainly knew about war , and I had
never been in one. And I knew about God without unquestionable evidence. I made a note to ask about these things at a later time. For now , I wanted to
get back to the business at hand, without becoming stalled in a maze of
petty discussions about obvious language barriers. (Or were they my limited
thinking barriers? I was beginning to consider this a genuine possibility .) “Just what is an anxiety attack?” I asked her out of the blue. “Anxiety sweeps over us quite regularly . It attacks in substantial amounts
when the winds are right. W e broadcast the likelihood of anxiety attacking,
and in what amounts, as a public service,” she stated matter -of-factly . “But what is it?” I asked incredulously . “Anxiety travels in the air in the shape of tiny microscopic particles
shaped as little As, Ns, and Xs, hence it derives its name, anxiety . These
anxiety particles were discovered by a scientist working with a powerful
microscope. His name was Nopain, and therefore the most famous antidote
for warding of f anxiety attacks was named after the discoverer .”
“But what happens if the anxiety attacks and you are without your
antidote, as you put it?” I asked. “Anxiety can take many dif ferent forms. If it attacks in lar ge quantities
and you are without your medicine it can actually break down your nerves
into smaller pieces, causing what we call an N.B.D., or nervous breakdown. Generally , though, it attacks in milder proportions and the ef fects can vary
from a general feeling of uneasiness, to nervousness, fear , paranoia,stammering, increased blood pressure, tension, and so on. Since the ef fects
of an attack can be devastating, all newscasts announce impending anxiety
attacks, so that people can take the proper precautions. Does this answer
your question?” she asked with obvious concern. “Yes, yes, it does, but it creates a thousand more.” My mind was racing
with thoughts. I’d never expected such an explanation. Anxiety actually
attacked people on Uranus, and she couldn’ t be lying because she didn’ t
even know how to do it. A strange, strange land indeed! “How often does it
attack?” I asked. “It’s very dif ficult to predict. W e can never make prognostications for
more than a few days. It tends to almost sneak up on us. Therefore we have
to be ready at all times. W e can go for months without any attacks and then
have three or four in one week,” she responded. I was beginning to see that this was a really singular phenomenon. I
made a two-part decision on the spot. First, I would ask Eykis for another
meeting as soon as possible, and if she were willing, I would then invite her
to visit Earth, so she could see how anxiety was produced in another reality . But I would have to break that to her gently . Before I could launch into the hundreds of questions swirling around in
my mind, she turned the tables on me. “Don’ t they have anxiety attacks on
Earth? Y ou seem so flustered by my description.”
“Yes, we do have anxiety attacks,” I attempted to explain, “but anxiety
doesn’ t attack exactly . In fact there is no such thing as anxiety per se. People just have anxiety attacks without anxiety actually attacking.”
Now she was definitely puzzled. Y et she did not judge me, or appear to
be agitated. “W ell,” she continued, “do they have antidotes for this
mysterious anxiety that doesn’ t attack?”
“Yes,” I replied, “we have tranquilizers, sedatives, therapy , and many
drugs to cure our anxiety attacks.”
“You keep saying that the anxiety doesn’ t attack, yet you call them
anxiety attacks.”
“Correct,” I countered, almost ashamed to say anything else. “So how do you know when you are being attacked by anxiety , if by your
own admission it doesn’ t attack?”
“We feel an anxiety attack coming on,” I responded. “From where? How? What are your clues?”
“We start feeling nervous, tense, and out of sorts,” I of fered.“But these are the results of an anxiety attack, not the cause,” she ar gued. “How can you feel tense when you don’ t have anxiety to attack you?”
“As I said, we feel it coming on.”
“From where?” she asked in an exasperated tone. “From within, I guess,” I answered hastily . I was not at all certain of my
logic by this time. “But if it comes from within, it isn’ t an anxiety attack at all, but is simply
anxious thinking. Y ou wouldn’ t need medicine for this. Instead you’d need
to change your thinking, wouldn’ t you?” she asked. “It seems so simple. What a blessing it would be never to have anxiety attacking us. T ension,
fear, anxiety , and the like would all be gone if it didn’ t attack. Why do you
choose anxiety on Earth if there is none to attack in the first place?” she
asked, this time pausing long enough for me to answer . I couldn’ t give her an intelligent reply . In fact, I had the distinct feeling
that I had yet to give her any answer that could be termed intelligent. “Can
we pick up this conversation on anxiety attacks at another time? Can we
talk tomorrow , or is tomorrow a concept that doesn’ t exist for you, since
you are only here now?” I asked, not wanting to be sarcastic, but still
feeling a bit shaken by her anxiety attack repartee. “Of course tomorrow exists,” she reminded me firmly . “But one cannot
live or feel there. On Uranus, one can only live this moment. Even when we
talk about tomorrow , we still only get NOW, but we can use up our NOW in
any way we desire. Unless of course you’re af flicted with worry-war es, or
you can af ford to purchase a guilt-pr odder , which are the only two
exceptions.”
I almost laughed out loud at her worry-wares and guilt-prodders, but I
could see that she was speaking in all seriousness. “Before you tell me about worry-wares and guilt-prodders, would you
agree to meet with me one more time?”
“I’ll meet with you as many times as you like, but only if you’ll tell me
all about your place called Earth. It seems very strange, almost as if you can
live each day in a reality that doesn’ t exist for me. I want to learn as much
as I can about your odd homeland,” she said. I was about to protest, but I stopped myself and instead agreed to tell her
all about my planet. I spent an hour telling her everything I could think of
that really seemed significant about Earth. I told her about the seemingly
duplicate proportions of our two planets regarding all external objects. Sheaccepted this without the least reaction and never brought it up again. T o
her the fact that Uranus and Earth looked exactly alike on the surface was
reality . Yet when I began to tell her about the people and our behavior , she
appeared incredulous. She looked mystified when I told her about wars and
prejudices; and when I talked of marriage, divorce, religion, and education,
she looked at me as if I had three heads. As I rambled on about the pursuit
of money as a way of getting ahead, she interrupted me. “Do they have neurotics like we do here?” she inquired, almost as if she
were following a line of questioning. “Of course we have neurotics. W e have a world full of them.”
“And do they have the symptoms of neurosis, as we do here on Uranus?”
she asked impatiently . “I’m not completely sure about your symptoms, but neurosis tends to
afflict almost everyone on Earth in a variety of ways.”
“Such as?”
“Some people worry about their lives and they end up with ulcers,
hypertension, headaches, cramps, and other ailments,” I said. “And they don’ t have worry-wares?”
“I’ve never heard of worry-wares, so I’m assuming that is something
unique to Uranus.”
“Well, if there are no worry-wares…” but she stopped herself, having
already participated in this illogical discussion and having seen it go
nowhere. “T ell me about your neurotics.” She chose to learn rather than
lecture or ar gue with me on this point. I told her as much as I could about how Earthlings tend to live in either
the past or the future. How they swallow tablets to cure depression and how
most of them are dissatisfied with themselves. I went on about how people
are interminably chasing success and are rarely satisfied, how they are
troubled with the af fliction of acquiring more. How so many suf fer from
unnatural fears called phobias and how few genuinely love themselves and
even fewer are able to give love to others without qualification. I told her of shrinks (a word she’d never heard except as a treatment for
hemorrhoids) and how millions of people on Earth go to therapists for help. I talked on and on about anger , procrastination, free-floating anxiety , and
self-contempt. She took it all in, and each time I talked about a dif ferent
kind of neurotic behavior , she seemed to relax. But she was taking notes
herself, and as seven o’clock approached, she asked me for another session.“We have all of those things and more here on Uranus,” she replied. “I
think where we dif fer dramatically , if I am deciphering these past few hours
correctly , is that on Uranus we seem to have a reason for all our neuroses. From what I can discern from this brief session, you also have neurotics on
Earth, but I’ve yet to see that their neuroses have causes based in reality . I
don’t wish to jump to conclusions, so let’ s hash it all out tomorrow and
then, if what I suspect is true, perhaps I could go with you back to Earth and
see for myself. Since I’m exclusively reality-based, perhaps it will do me
good to see how one can actually be neurotic without a reason based in
reality . I’m puzzled by all this, but I’m willing to keep an open mind if you
would like me to accompany you.”
She had actually invited herself back, almost as if she knew that was
what I’d been thinking. W e said goodbye, and when she had departed I lay
back on the bed unable to contain my delirium. I had much to think about in
preparation for our meeting tomorrow . I dozed of f with her words ringing
loudly in my head. “Perhaps it will do me good to see how one can actually
be neurotic without a reason based in reality .” Now that was a thought I had
never considered before. OceanofPDF .com3 
 Second Visit
I had made my decision in the middle of the night, after spending hours
dissecting our initial conversation and replaying her strangely logical
statements. I had to encourage her to make the trip to Earth so she could
experience the vast dif ferences in thinking between our peoples. I would do
everything possible to persuade her to visit Earth, but before doing so, I had
to learn as much as I could about her and what to me was an alien way of
thinking. I had made peace with the external geography of Uranus. I accepted it as
a virtual carbon copy of Earth. But all the talk yesterday about having a
reason to be tense, neurotic or unhappy left unanswered questions. I just
couldn’ t understand that her reality could be so dif ferent from mine. I had
seen her people acting in a multitude of self-defeating ways and I was
curious beyond description as to how she would explain what I had
observed. I had done some reading overnight. I had also observed a wide
spectrum of Earthlike human behavior in the people of Uranus. I had
watched them in traf fic jams, supermarkets, and family restaurants. I’d
taken careful notes and placed an asterisk next to behaviors which
paralleled those I had seen so often on Earth. I was aware of an entire
catalogue of neurotic or self-deprecating behavior by her people, and I
could hardly contain my self-praise as I contemplated questioning her about
the flaws in some of her logic. She claimed to inhabit a totally reality-based
world and yet I’d seen a great deal of remarkably Earthlike neurotic activity
since I arrived. The items that I would raise during the interview were well thought out,
with many examples to indicate that the reality-based world described by
Eykis had its own share of unreal, neurotic casualties, just as we did on
Earth. W e decided that this interview , in the course of which she would
answer all my questions and collect my contrary observations about herpeople and her assertions, would take place over dinner in the hotel
restaurant. She appeared bright and full of smiles as we sat down at our table. “I’m
sure you have many questions to ask after our marathon session yesterday ,”
she said before I had an opportunity to say a word. “I certainly do. I’d like to get started immediately , if you don’ t mind. I
accept what you said yesterday about anxiety attacking and I can see why
your people would use such a phrase as ‘I’m having an anxiety attack,’ if in
fact anxiety does attack. Moreover , I recognize that anxiety does not attack
on Earth, and people are still subjected to their own anxiety attacks. If
you’ll accompany me back to Earth, perhaps you’ll find the answer to that
puzzling question. As for me, I’ve never had an anxiety attack, so it does
not apply to my life. But would you please explain what you meant by
worry-wares and guilt-prodders, before I do have my first anxiety attack?”
“But there is no possibility of an anxiety attack tonight, I’ve double-
checked the forecast,” she reminded me thoughtfully . “All right, for get it, what about worry-wares?” I asked. “Don’ t you have worriers on Earth?”
“Yes, almost everyone worries at one time or another , and we even have
compulsive-neurotic worriers who do it all the time.”
“And you don’ t have worry-wares on Earth?” she wondered aloud. “I’ve never heard of a worry-ware in my life,” I replied emphatically . “So what is it that causes you to worry on Earth?” she asked. “People just do it. They worry about getting sick, about airplanes
crashing, about their families. It’ s a way of life.”
“But what causes people to worry?” she asked, growing more impatient
at what she must have thought was evasiveness on my part. “Well, people cause themselves to worry , I suppose.”
“And what do they get out of worrying? Does it keep them from getting
sick? Or their loved ones from having an accident? Does it prevent planes
from falling out of the sky?” she wanted to know . “No,” I replied. “W orry doesn’ t stop anything from changing. People
have just learned to do it. “Why would they use up their precious moments for living by worrying
about something they can’ t do anything about? It seems so pointless.” She
was clearly perplexed.“So what are these worry-wares you’ve mentioned? Are they some kind
of invisible bacteria, like anxiety , that force people on Uranus to worry?” I
asked. “Oh, no,” she replied, almost startled at the absurdity of my conclusion. “Worry-wares are a technological advance on Uranus. If something is going
to happen in the near future, such as an airplane trip, or a sickness, worry-
wares can give you an exact forecast of what will happen if you follow a
particular course.”
“You mean they can actually change the future, these worry-wares?”
“Not at all.” There was a tone of exasperation in her voice. “They work
like this. Let’ s assume that I will spend a few minutes worrying about my
plane trip next week. I will write down the worrisome thoughts and
program them into the worry-ware computer terminal. The computer will
tell me how the flight will turn out. If I’m told that it will crash, I can alter
my plans and avoid that particular flight.”
“But why doesn’ t everyone simply use the worry-ware computer
terminal? If they did they would never have anything to worry about.”
“Of course almost everyone does use the information in the worry-ware
computer , but it still doesn’ t eliminate the need to worry .”
“How so? Please explain,” I implored her to continue with this odd
explanation. “I’ve just told you. Y ou must first worry in order to get the information
you need. Thus on Uranus we all have an absolute need to worry in order to
avoid having catastrophes befall us. Doesn’ t it work like that on Earth?”
“Not exactly ,” I replied, knowing that this was the highest level of
understatement one could ever achieve on any planet. “You did say that almost everyone on Earth worries, didn’ t you?”
“Yes, that’ s correct, but on Earth worrying can never aid anyone in
looking into the future. That is quite impossible in our reality system,” I
said. “Then why do you worry?” she asked again, with that all too familiar
tone of befuddlement in her voice. “Perhaps we had better wait for your visit to Earth,” I stalled again in my
cleverly evasive way , so as to avoid appearing outright stupid by stating the
real answer that was turning over and over in my mind: I just don’ t know . “So worry actually serves a great purpose on Uranus,” I of fered in my
superfluous way of summing up.“Tell me about those guilt-prodders you mentioned earlier ,” I suggested. I
was hoping that I might find something there that I could use with my own
family , since they were almost all veritable guilt machines themselves,
either dispensing it on the one hand or unabashedly embracing it on the
other . As usual, Eykis first asked me if we had such a thing as guilt on
Earth. “In enormous amounts,” I replied. I assured her that few people on Earth
had escaped the clutches of guilt and that it ran the full gamut, from feeling
horrible about having disappointed members of one’ s family to feeling
awful about getting a free ride by failing to push when going through a
revolving door . “Well, guilt on Uranus is very common also, and without it I can’ t
imagine how we would survive. It is a most useful and sought-after
commodity indeed,” she answered, leaving me sitting there with my mouth
wide open, trying to predict what she would say next about the virtues of
guilt on Uranus. “How can guilt be useful?” I asked, wondering what she would throw at
me this time. “Without guilt, we would never be able to go into rewind, and hence
we’d be forever stuck with our behavior as it occurred the very first time.”
“Rewind!” I exploded. “How can you accomplish rewind?” I almost
shouted, drawing the attention of other diners to our table. “You can’ t tell me you don’ t know about rewind. I’ve seen you use it
repeatedly with your tape recorder . Whenever you want to go backward and
replay something, you go into rewind,” she ar gued. “Yes, but that’ s on a tape recorder . People can’ t do that!”
“Not exactly as you do, since your rewind button restricts you to
replaying whatever transpired exactly as it was done originally . A guilt-
prodder is not a limited one-dimensional machine like your tape recorder . It
enables you to go into rewind when you feel bad about something, and you
can correct your error .”
“Do you mean that people on Uranus can rewind their life experiences
and correct them at will?”
“Not without guilt they can’ t,” she replied. “So that feeling guilty can actually put you into this position called
rewind and then you do something over?” I asked, hardly believing what
was coming out of my mouth.“Of course,” she answered almost laughing at my incredulity . “If you
couldn’ t do it over , what good would it do to feel guilty about it in the first
place?”
“Hold it right there,” I insisted. “Where does one get one of those guilt-
prodders?”
“You don’ t have to ‘get one,’ as you put it. All Urantians are given one
on their third birthday . I just don’ t see how we could survive without them.”
“How do they work exactly?” I demanded, becoming impatient with her
cool, almost superior tone. “If you do something that you dislike, such as use abusive language to
your parents, you close your eyes and just feel guilty for forty-five seconds,
then—”
“Hold it,” I interrupted. “Y ou just feel guilty , what does that mean
precisely?”
“You know , you think guilty thoughts. That’ s all guilt really is, thoughts
that give rise to particular feelings and behaviors.”
“What kind of thoughts, for example,” I asked. “Thoughts such as…I wish I hadn’ t said that…I feel terrible about having
been short-tempered…I’m really a bad person, and soon. Y ou know , guilty
thoughts,” she said. “Then what happens?” I wanted to know . “Your guilt-prodder activates your rewind button and you can go back to
the initial encounter with your parents.”
“And you mean to tell me you get to re-do the abusive conversation?” I
had almost shouted again. I would have to control the volume of my voice
or risk having the meeting ended by a maître d’. “Certainly , only this time you speak as you feel you should have the first
time, and then it’ s all behind you.”
“And what purpose does the guilt fulfill?” I asked, wanting to make sure
that I was hearing correctly . “That’ s quite evident,” she said, “without guilt you can’ t activate the
guilt-prodder , and without the guilt-prodder you can’ t go into rewind. Consequently , we all need guilt in order to correct our behaviors.”
“But what if you do something really terrible, like steal, or even hurt
someone?” I asked. “Same principle applies,” said Eykis. “Y ou use your guilt-prodder , go
into rewind, and re-do it. Then you learn from your behavior and programyourself not to do it again. But people do not hurt each other on Uranus in
the sense of causing them what you call harm. Y ou see, with the small
exception of rewind, our reality dictates that we live only in the present
moment. When people are living fully in this moment, there is no need to
cause hurt or pain to others. There are times when we say or do things that
we’d like to correct, hence we have guilt and rewind. But actual harm is not
possible, since there is absolutely nothing to gain from it. W e have only this
moment, no more, no less.”
“That’ s incredible. On Uranus you actually need guilt in order to learn
from your past,” I said. “Of course,” she of fered. “And don’ t you have rewind for people, just
like you do for your tape recorders?”
“No,” I said solemnly . “But you do have guilt,” she asked with emphasis. “Yes, we do,” I said even more solemnly . “And guilt is painful, just like it is here on Uranus?” she asked,
apparently wanting to be certain that we were talking about the same
commodity . “Very much so,” I replied. “People on Earth are often obsessed with guilt
over what they’ve done.”
“But if they can’ t go backward and correct the behavior , what’ s the use of
feeling guilty?” she wondered. “Well, the guilt helps to remind them how bad they feel, which in turn
teaches them to avoid repeating that behavior ,” I of fered feebly . “But,” she countered quickly , “if the guilt is painful and it doesn’ t help
you re-do what you did, why don’ t you simply learn from your mistakes,
bypass the guilt, vow to avoid that behavior in the future, and have no guilt
as a bonus?” she asked. “I—I don’ t know ,” was all I could think of to say . “Doesn’ t your guilt simply immobilize you?” she asked. “Yes.”
“And no amount of it can ever get you to go into rewind to correct what
you’ve done?”
“Yes again.”
“Then it seems to me that it’ s one thing to do something you dislike and
feel bad about it, and it’ s quite another to do something you dislike andcarry guilt around with you. It’ s double jeopardy , for crying out loud, and it
also seems irresponsible to me,” she said. I had never thought of guilt as irresponsible before. I asked her , “How is
it irresponsible?”
“Obviously , if you are just going to choose an emotional reaction which
is going to be painful, and at the same time isn’ t going to lead to a
correction of the behavior you detest, then guilt immobilizes you and keeps
you feeling terrible to boot. T o me that’ s irresponsible.”
“But isn’ t your guilt also irresponsible?” I asked. “Don’ t you feel bad
when you do things you dislike, and isn’ t that called guilt?”
“Guilt on Uranus is necessary in order to correct what you have already
done, therefore it is a most responsible choice. On Earth, from what I can
gather from your questions to me, you can’ t replay your past, so I would
think it essential to learn from your mistakes, correct them in future
encounters, and sensibly shun the painful guilt. But then, I have dif ficulty
imagining a world without guilt. As painful as it is for a few moments, it
still serves such a wonderful purpose. No one on Uranus would be without
his guilt-prodder , I can assure you.”
I was impressed. I must say , greatly impressed. Just as with her worry-
wares, she was able to make an eloquent defense of guilt because it was
functional. I was beginning to see what she meant by being in a reality-
based culture. If an emotion didn’ t serve a purpose, she simply didn’ t use it. All the guilt that I had heard defended throughout my life seemed utterly
pointless in the face of her logic. I asked Eykis about conversations I had overheard on Uranus in which
people said the same foolish things I had heard so many times back home. I
gave her a list of sentences which included:
“You should have done it this way .”
“You wouldn’ t be having this problem if you’d only listened to
me.”
“You shouldn’ t have done it this way without consulting me.”
When I confronted her with the absurdity of such postulations, she acted
surprised at my having pointed them out.“Should-have, would-have, and could-have are very valuable tools,” she
explained. “They influence someone to activate the guilt-prodder and
ultimately get into rewind.”
“In what way?” I asked. “By saying ‘you should have,’ obviously people are telling other people
that they didn’ t do something as well as they might have. The recipients
may then choose to feel guilty and re-do it, so as to please themselves and
behave more ef fectively in rewind.”
“But what if a person feels that he or she did it just the right way and
doesn’ t like that should-have,” I asked. “Why , the recipient simply ignores the ‘you should have.’ Y ou see, the
purpose of ‘you should have’ is to give the option of re-doing. If one were
unable to go into rewind, there would be no sense in telling another person
‘you should have.’”
“But, Eykis,” I protested, “what if you really disliked what someone did
and you felt that person would have benefited by doing it your way? How
would you possibly inform anybody of the need to improve?”
“You mean, assuming the person can’ t go into rewind and re-do it?” she
asked. “Yes, yes.” I had for gotten about that damned rewind thing here on
Uranus. “The answer is so simple that it hardly bears saying. Y ou would tell the
person to work at not repeating that foolish behavior in the future. Y ou
would never say ‘you should have,’ since it serves no purpose. But a life
without rewind is dif ficult for me to imagine.”
“How do you handle criminals if you have no use for guilt?” I asked. “I didn’ t say we had no use for guilt, you are the one who apparently has
no use for it. On Uranus, guilt is quite useful and criminals do not exist. Anyone who behaves in a way that is contrary to the law is required to
accept responsibility for his behavior . Guilt helps. It makes one rethink
what he or she has done, then go into rewind and correct the wrong
behavior . Anyone who refuses must take responsibility for it.”
“Just how would a person do that?” I asked. “Quite simply ,” Eykis said. “Someone who has stolen property must
return it and pay restitution. Those who refuse are incarcerated and
permitted to work on construction projects that benefit everyone, such as
roads, libraries, schools, and all sorts of public service. Those who refuse todo such work live in solitary confinement until they choose to be
responsible. But our prisons are virtually empty , since going into rewind
through guilt eliminates the need for incarceration. It is a rare occasion
when a person chooses not to go into rewind in order to act in a law-abiding
manner the second time, or to be responsible through work projects. Since
these are such sensible choices, solitary confinement is almost never used.”
“But what about violent crime, in which someone elects to harm or even
murder another?” I asked. “These concepts of harm and murder don’ t exist here, since we are
strictly reality-based. No one on Uranus is capable of even wanting to hurt
anyone because it serves absolutely no purpose, unless there is a rare
dependency-diode malfunction which I’ll soon explain. W e know
intuitively that each person has a right to be what he chooses for himself. Consequently no one can choose to alter anyone else’ s humanity . I assume
by harm and murder you mean altering someone. W e can’ t do that, it simply
isn’t within our reality to think and behave in the ways you’ve described as
harmful.”
“But don’ t you think a person who could do that, and there are many on
Earth who can and do, should be made to feel guilty?” I asked. “Not if the guilt cannot activate rewind,” she said almost instantly . “But shouldn’ t they be made to repent and correct their ways?”
“Now you sound like you live here on Uranus. Repentance is internal and
voluntary , behavior is external. Changing a person’ s ways in the future is
possible. But why should that have anything to do with guilt? Can’ t a
person learn, repent, and grow , or even be confined, without the
accompanying guilt?” she asked. “I’m not sure,” I replied. “Well, I can tell you for certain that if guilt didn’ t lead to rewind, it would
never exist here on Uranus. Even if we had violent crimes against each
other , guilt wouldn’ t help to rehabilitate anyone and would very likely
encourage repetition of the of fensive behavior . As I said earlier , either you
go into rewind and correct the behavior while learning from it or you suf fer
society’ s punishment. However , the guilt won’ t correct anything when you
don’t have the rewind option.”
“If everyone is reality-oriented and can go into rewind to erase mistakes,
why did I see signs of the same social problems on Uranus that we have on
Earth? What about your prisons and abortion clinics?” I asked.“Those particular terms may apply on Earth. What you saw were houses
of correction and women’ s centers. On Earth perhaps these titles are merely
euphemisms for the coarser terms. On Uranus they are quite literal. People
occasionally commit acts which cannot be accepted by society; they would
correspond to ‘harming’ someone on Earth. Because of malfunctions in
dependency diodes or other explainable dysfunctions, a person may refuse
to go into rewind. He will need counseling to see why his actions were in
error . A house of correction is a rewind counseling service in a live-in
establishment. It is a house . It is for correcting  errors in thinking. In reality ,
the people are not bad, they’re just wrong. “Women’ s centers deal with all phases of a woman’ s life. There are
programs for physical fitness, sex education, general medical problems as
well as gynecological needs, fertility , pregnancy , nursing, and child care. There is something of interest to any female of any age for body , mind, and
spirit. W ith rewind, we don’ t need abortions, but there are classes and
counselors to help women think things through so they don’ t have to make
rewind decisions on a regular basis. And, I might happily add, there is no
social stigma against anyone who chooses to bear a child, regardless of the
circumstances. The child will not suf fer, either .”
“Explain why the news report I saw when I first arrived carried stories
about drug centers. Why would such places exist in your culture?”
“Again those are literal, descriptive titles. All chemicals not acquired
from food are available only through a drug center . The doctors and
pharmacologists keep track of medicines prescribed for illness, and of
vitamins and other aids for people on holistic programs for maximum levels
of vitality and health.”
This made some sense to me, and I didn’ t want to get bogged down in
having her “defend” her reality . But I still had one nagging question about
that evening news report. “What viable reason could there be for all that military equipment? I saw
film clips of military academies where young men and women in uniforms
were training, and why did I see aircraft carriers and submarines along with
swarms of troops using what looked like artillery , if you have no concept of
harm in your world?” I was proud of my keen observations, and I almost
hoped I had found a discrepancy in her otherwise flawless logical
explanations of the behavior of her people.“My, my. Appearances are deceiving, aren’ t they? Y our descriptions are
most vivid—and, I’m delighted to say , truly inaccurate. Through science
we’ve controlled the instincts for territory , aggressive protection of the
species, and the need for combat as a proof of strength and power to select
the dominant leaders. That may have been important originally for survival
of the fittest, but in rational moments we know that it is not how we want
our society run today . To give the ‘inner animal’ a chance to express itself
without causing injury to others, we have war games, which are run like our
Urantian Olympics. The military academies you thought you saw are not
for training fighters but athletes. The aircraft carriers do carry aircraft. It
saves fuel in getting the equipment to the competitions. And some of those
planes are only good for short-range flights; they’d never make it across the
ocean. “Submarines participate in undersea competitions, but the skilled crews
are really training for future employment at oceanic fish farms where subs
herd the schools of tuna the way cowboys herd cattle. Other marine crops
growing on the sea floor are cultivated and harvested by submarine. The
Games are very good and practical training grounds. “As for the artillery troops, you may have seen shooting, but it was at
targets, not people. They take turns covering the same territory so the points
can be given fairly . The big artillery , pointing skyward, shoot fireworks
displays. They are judged on originality , variety of color and form, theme,
combined ef fects of sound and light, and so on. The finals are always at
night. Y ou must have seen a film clip on practice drills. The timing is so
complicated. It’ s really very technical, intricate, skillful…Why are you
laughing?”
“I’m just imagining what would happen at the next summit if we
proposed doing away with all nuclear arms and substituted a fireworks
display .”
Her thinking was always so impeccably sensible. W orry and guilt existed
on Uranus because they were useful. Inhabitants of Uranus did not harm
each other because it served no purpose. Anxiety attacked and therefore the
need for tranquilizers. W e moved away from all this talk of guilt and I
asked her about something I had noted everywhere on Uranus—people
talking about their phobias. “Of course we have phobias. They’re a terrible problem, but we’ve
learned to tolerate them. It’ s part of our reality , if you know what I mean,”she said, referring to her reality in a cute manner with the slightest hint of a
smirk. “I overheard someone on the bus say these exact words to her friend,” I
said. I reminded Eykis that I had recorded the conversation on tape so as to
be exact. “The lady said, ‘Elevators really frighten me, I’m afraid to ride in
them anymore.’ Now I ask you, how can anyone who is reality-based, as
you put it, say something so unreal? Obviously elevators don’ t scare
people.”
“Have you ever ridden in an elevator on Uranus that was programmed to
scare you?” There was not even a trace of a grin on her face as she spoke,
so I knew for certain that she wasn’ t joking. “Programmed to scare you—why? For what purpose?” I asked. “Here on Uranus elevators are built with speakers in them. When the
programming shifts to ‘scare,’ and it can do so without warning, the speaker
emits a frightening sound, sort of a creaking, high-pitched wail. It can really
give you the shivers.”
“So why not just eliminate the eerie noises and rid yourself of this
phobia?” I wanted to know . “Because scary elevators are the antidote to that stupefying taped music. Elevators are built that way and most people learn to adjust to them and it
isn’t really that bad. But for some, elevators really are terribly frightening.”
She looked puzzled again. “Don’ t people have phobias like fear of elevators
back on Earth?” she asked quizzically . “Why yes, of course, but the elevators themselves don’ t scare people. It’ s
the attitude people have toward small, closed spaces,” I of fered, knowing
what was about to be asked and knowing also that I wouldn’ t have a
sensible answer , again. “So that’ s why you were so surprised to hear our people say ‘elevators
scare me.’ Y ou never heard it stated like that, right?”
“Wrong, my friend Eykis,” I replied. “I hear it all the time.”
“But you just said that elevators on Earth are not programmed to scare
anyone, and if that’ s the case, why would anyone on Earth ever blame the
elevator for a fear of enclosed spaces?” she asked, almost dumbfounded at
the direction the conversation had taken.
_OceanofPDF.com_Gifts_from_Eykis_-_Wayne_W_Dyer.txt
Summarize the following text section accurately and concisely. Maintain specific details and numerical information, and use anti-repetition mechanisms:

        Dr. Wayne Dyer
Gifts from Eykis
OceanofPDF. comTo the pr omise  of Eykis: a miracle for our time. and 
To the memory of John Lennon, who asked us to “imagine”  
that the world could be as one
OceanofPDF. comReality is not a concept; r eality is my daily life. —J. Krishnamurti
OceanofPDF. comContents
Epigraph
Introduction
Prologue
 
Part One  
 Uranus
Chapter 1. The Arrival
Chapter 2. Eykis
Chapter 3. Second V isit
 
Part T wo 
 Earth
Chapter 4. First Observations
Chapter 5. Eykis’ Final Observations
Chapter 6. Eykis’ Proposal
 
Part Three  
 Eykis’ Gifts
Chapter 7. Reality-Only Conversations
Chapter 8. Some Reality-Only Reactions
Chapter 9. Secrets of the Universe
Epilogue
 
Acknowledgments
Books by W ayne W. DyerCopyright
About the Publisher
OceanofPDF. comINTRODUCTION
Throughout history storytelling has been a significant avenue of
communication. From Aesop’ s Fables  and biblical parables to Jonathan
Livingston Seagull  and many additional ancient and modern sources, we
can learn readily by stepping aside to the position of objective observer. There the sting of criticism is not so painful. The action and resulting
consequences happened to the fox or bird or prodigal son. Y et with very
little ef fort we see how the truth and universal essence belong to us all. W e
are moved to new perceptions, emotions, and behavior through these
“fictional” examples. Science and technology have brought us forward into a grand new world
with greater possibilities than ever. But in many ways our attitudes and
feelings have not evolved equally. We are less equipped to deal with the
opportunities presented today because we drag along some unhelpful beliefs
and misperceptions of the realities of our world. What would be the reactions of an intelligent visitor from another planet
to our complex systems here on Earth. How would we view that visitor ’s
culture. Can we compare favorably. Are we ready to accept an objective
view. Gifts fr om Eykis  is an example of one exchange encounter between
an Earthling and a citizen from Uranus. Both are peaceful, open, life-loving
people who seek to enhance the well-being of all. Through them I have
been able to observe where we are in our societies and speculate on where
we might go should we choose the realities recommended. The parable
format may enable more people to slip into the role of observer, but
ultimately we all must look inward and see ourselves. As you will discover, Eykis lives. Long live Eykis. WAYNE W. DYER
OceanofPDF. comPROLOGUE
The library had been designated as the place to which rented academic caps
and gowns were to be returned. I stood among the stacks full of leather and
paper, the traditional symbols of wisdom, my hood of doctoral rank askew
about my shoulders like a limp noose, the rolled parchment certifying my
professional qualifications tucked under my elbow as I held a copy of an
essay by Bertrand Russell. It was about “happiness”—something which I
had searched for and never found among or between the lines of the
seemingly endless texts I had read on my way to this day. Behind me someone approached. I heard the quiet shuf fling and knew
who it was. There were those at the university who called him eccentric;
others, less kind, called him “senile. ” But in the worldwide community of
scientists, particularly physicists, he was still recognized as a giant. His feet
shuffled slowly but his brain leaped and soared, occasionally to places no
one else could dream of, let alone follow. I turned and smiled a genuinely respectful welcome. “Good afternoon,” I
said. “Indeed, yes. And I have a Gift for you. ” The professor ’s English was
sprinkled with more capitals than most of us used. He handed me a bundle
of mathematical equations which I did not recognize. “Long ago, in my early days of Experimentation, I had an Assistant. He
would not allow Acknowledgment, for he said that as a V isitor, his presence
might be a Disruption. Actually, he deserved the greater Credit, but he
explained the Responsibility was mine, and so should be all of the Results. ”
“You’ve never mentioned him before that I can remember. ”
“No. No. Nor shall I ever again. But he left me the Urantian Formulas. I’ve tried to understand them, but I have only a glimmer. He said there
would come a W illing Learner to take up the Journey. This was forty years
ago. I’ve looked and waited. ” He sighed. “Y ou are the One. ” A small smile
began to move across the wrinkled face and glowed in triumph finally in his
eyes. “Me. What did you say this is. ” I asked incredulously. “The Urantian Formulas. It has to do with Molecular T ransport. My
journey is nearly done, but yours begins Here,” he said, tapping the typed
pages. “ Bon voyage, Learner. Perhaps one day—the T eacher. ”
He smiled again, gently, and turned to shuf fle quietly away. “Thank you for the Gift,” I called, still puzzled. W ithout pausing, he
waved a slow farewell salute and was soon out of sight beyond the next
library stack. OceanofPDF. com Part One 
URANUS
OceanofPDF. com1 
 The Arrival
It was dif ficult to believe. This place called Uranus appear ed to be an exact
replica of Earth. After years of decoding the Urantian Formulas, I had
made my first successful self-transport to another planet, and as luck would
have it, I landed in a place that appeared to duplicate home. From all
outward appearances, everything on Uranus was precisely as it was back on
Earth. I had assumed that even though I would remain within my own solar
system, I would have an opportunity to see something new, something
genuinely differ ent, if I traveled to a very distant planet. I thought that
Uranus would be far enough from Earth for me to experience a whole new
reality—creatures made of gases who changed shape, or at any rate
something to equal the vivid imagination of the Star T rek writers whose
work I admired so much. I had pictured myself moving about in time warps,
leaping forward or backward millions of years by some magical ability to
transcend my body. The years of anticipation and hard work had not
prepared me for this shock: there seemed to be no dif ference at all. Authors and researchers who considered the possibility of a duplicate
planet usually imagined mirror images, reversals of good and evil and the
like. However, never, even in my most fanciful moments, had I expected to
find a literal  sister planet, a place that exactly duplicated Earth. It was
almost as if the residents of Uranus had undertaken to deliberately
reproduce our world, step by step in every single aspect. Their great oceans,
mountain ranges, and deserts were in exact proportion to those of Earth. They even had identical names. There was not only a Sahara Desert, there
was even a Sahara Hotel. I suspected they had observed us with a very
powerful telescope, and faithfully reconstructed Earth on Uranus. Certainly
they had every detail right. T raffic jams took place at five o’clock in the
afternoon in all the major cities, there was starvation in the “Third W orld,”there were huge shopping centers and fuel-ef ficient small cars imported
from “Japan. ” They hadn’ t missed a thing. I was beginning to think I had been hoodwinked. Perhaps I had been
tricked into believing that I was the first Earthling to visit another planet
and in fact I had never even left home. Perhaps my secret research on the
Formulas had been penetrated, and I was going to be used as propaganda
bait to fool the Soviets—allowing the enemy to think we had achieved
some technological breakthrough that did not really exist. I thought I’d seen
a movie about this at one time. But somehow I knew better. I had felt the
impact of molecular transport. I had experienced  myself hurtling away from
Earth through the void of space. I was sure, but the doubt lingered. It struck
me that the only way to verify that I was truly on Uranus was to stop
looking at the external images, and to see if in fact the people themselves
were also duplicate Earthlings. From all outward appearances they seemed
to be. I decided to select one of these Uranus people to interview in depth; if he
or she turned out to be exactly like all the Earthlings I’d met, I would return
home immediately and develop the ability for travel beyond  our solar
system. I hadn’ t come billions of miles simply to see my own world. I had
begun this project with a desire for adventure and excitement. The prospect
of fitting myself into a new world of people identical to those I had left
behind was not particularly exciting. I settled into my room at one of Uranus’ finest Holiday Inns, flipped on
the television, and began to ponder how I could learn about the inhabitants
of this world that was at one and the same time alien and familiar to me. The irony of my predicament did not escape me. I was in a strange land,
and yet I felt as if I’d never left home. Even this hotel room was like those I
had seen a thousand times before—miniature soap bars, a tiny ounce of
shampoo in a brown plastic bottle, a kind of soiled cleanliness to the
bedspread, and an unread copy of the Gideon Bible in the dresser drawer. My mind was filled with questions, and yet I found myself struggling
with the “How-to-go-about-it” thinking that I often employed to avoid
taking any action. I had learned a long time ago that the way to make sure
that something got done was to start it. But I’d also learned how to combat
that notion, which required ef fort, sweat, and all those qualities I loved to
observe in others and to eschew in myself. Instead of taking char ge, I used
my predicament to keep my mind focused on what I should or shouldn’ t do. I moved to a more advanced form of evasiveness. I considered the questions
I would want to ask. Do you have wars. Are you preoccupied with rules. What about cancer, and how do you see this mystery we call death. Do you
have schools and do they emphasize grades and obedience. Do you wear
designer jeans, and if so, why. Do you have the same history as we do on
Earth. Do you know about us. W ill you ever visit, and if you did, would
you be friendly. Do you have nuclear weapons and a Jane Fonda. Are you
really the same identical creatures as we are inside as well as outside. Do
you have emotions, fears, anxiety, and tranquilizers. The questions were
bombarding my consciousness almost as fast as I could record them on my
miniature portable tape recorder. (Could I replace the batteries here. I
wondered. ) As I said these words to myself into the tape recorder, the word “anxiety”
was repeated in the room. I couldn’ t believe it. Until then I had been
ignoring the television reporter, who looked exactly like all those I’d seen
across America. The Aryan model with “television good looks,” who could
have slid into the vacant seat of any local television newscaster in Seattle,
Minneapolis, Atlanta, or T oronto without anyone knowing the dif ference,
had been reading his lines so vacuously that I had tuned him out while I
pondered the enormity of the task that lay ahead. But just when I was
saying into the tape recorder, “Do you have emotions, fears, anxiety, and
tranquilizers. ” I heard the first words on the newscast that made me realize
that everything on Uranus was not exactly as it was on Earth. It was almost
as if I had been slapped in the face. Segueing into the next segment, before going into a commercial, Mr. Aryan Good Looks had said, “That concludes the national news, stay tuned
for the local stories, to be followed by sports, weather, and the anxiety
attack reports. ”
I had half listened to the national news, which, peppered with empty
phrases like “leading economic indicators,” “student protest
demonstrations,” and “presidential study commissions,” sounded much the
same as on Earth. The local news, weather, and even Joe Jock sports reports
were also familiar, and I now listened to the chronology of useless, dreary
information with unabated ennui, as I waited to hear the one facet of the
evening report that would give me my first clue to these people on Uranus
who had built a culture which, until now, seemed just like mine. “Stay tuned, after this report from a light beer, for tomorrow’ s anxiety
attack report. ”
An anxiety attack report on the newscast. I felt a flurry of excitement. What the hell was an anxiety attack report, and what was it doing as a
regular feature on the evening news. The report was brief and to the point. “Hello, this is Eykis, with your evening anxiety attack report. Chances of
anxiety attacking are high in the upper altitudes, with a diminished
possibility within the city limits. There is an 80 percent chance of anxiety
on Friday, with a decreased likelihood on the weekend. By Monday the
forecast is for almost zero anxiety, even in the upper ranges 6,000 feet
above sea level. However, tonight’ s anxiety attack risk is exceedingly high,
so I would ur ge each of you to check your stock of preventive medicine
right away. You probably won’ t need it over the weekend, but by mid-week
the likelihood of a new anxiety front moving into the area is exceedingly
high. This is Eykis, signing of f. This report has been brought to you by
Nopain, the only product of its kind containing 850 milligrams of anxiety
prevention, to help you when you need it most—that is, when an
unexpected anxiety attack appears out of nowhere. Remember: Y ou get the
most value from Nopain when anxiety is attacking. ”
I sat there in shock. An anxiety attack report on the evening news. This
was something I would never have imagined even in my craziest moments. Fortunately, I had had the presence of mind to tape the report as it came
through the television. I put my tape recorder into rewind and played the
report again, and again. On the third replay, I timed the message. The report
had lasted one minute. I listened to it over and over thinking that probably it
was a joke. Perhaps this Eykis person was an evening news satirist, similar
to characters on our newscasts who posed as social critics and made fools of
themselves, shouting into the camera with phony anger at some politician or
social evil that they found particularly of fensive. Y ou knew that if they
really believed in what they said, they would be doing something actively
about what they pretended to dislike instead of shouting aimlessly at their
enemies over the airwaves. I have always felt that by taking refuge in what
others are or are not doing properly, critics show that they themselves are
not doers. Eykis was nothing like that. She was direct, she appeared to be serious,
and she communicated personal concern about her anxiety attack report. The signal she sent me was very special; I simply couldn’ t believe that it
was a put-on. Nonetheless I decided to tune to the next newscast and see if
what I had watched was a trick or the real thing. Sure enough, thirty
minutes later on a competing network program, another anxiety attack
report was featured, with almost identical warnings to the populace. I made the decision right there that I was going to seek out this Eykis
person whose sincerity had touched me so deeply. I needed a sensitive
Uranus resident whom I could trust with my own identity. Something deep
within me said, “This is the person. She is committed to helping and she
speaks the truth in clear, simple terms. ” I was certain about her because I
was already obsessed. Somewhere in the core of my being I always know
when someone is right and in this case I knew it instantly. Long ago I had
trained myself to ignore the rules under which most Earthlings operate, and
to consult only my inner voices. If anyone ur ged me to act, feel, or think in
a specific way, I simply ignored all of the “I don’ t know if I shoulds,” and
listened to my inner voice. Early in my life I’d learned that the only thing I
ever regretted was what I failed to do out of some self-inflicted fear or
prohibition originating in the rules of others. T o be sure, I did many things
which I disliked or which turned out wrong, but I never felt any painful
regret for what I did. I simply vowed to avoid repeating such behavior. Consequently, I learned a great deal from my errors. Regret came in lar ge
doses only when I wanted to act but did not out of fear of rejection or, even
worse, failure. Everywhere I went as a youngster I found adults following rules that had
been passed down through the generations. Many of them had no basis at
all in what was real. For example, I heard it said thousands of times that “It
takes a long time to really know someone, and even longer to know if you
love the person. ” But my own inner voices always told me quite the
opposite. I could tell in a few moments that I loved a person and I knew that
I didn’ t need the “test of time” to verify it for me. Nevertheless, I was always being criticized for saying, “I love you” too
soon. “Y ou don’ t know me, how could you really know you love me. If it’ s
that easy for you to say, how can I know I am really special. ” (As if being
special had anything to do with elapsed time, or, even more absurd, if one
loved more than one person, somehow neither, instead of both, was special. ) I abandoned the rules to which others paid so much tribute, and I became
the subject of much consternation throughout my life. Nevertheless, despiteattacks on my character because I chose to live by my instincts, I found that
I was never disappointed in ME for trusting my first impulses when it came
to how and when I loved others. It was always others who had the most
difficulty with my quick assessments of whom I could or couldn’ t love. On
a first meeting, a first date, or a first anything, others were always careful to
say only the right thing while I blithely went my way trusting myself and
proud of my ability to ignore rules about how one ought to feel. It was this instinct for trust that was working for me in the bleak hotel
room on Uranus. I had only seen an image of this woman called Eykis on
the television screen, and yet I knew that I loved her. She was someone I
could trust to give me an insight into her people. Although she seemed so
familiar that she could have been from my home town, she was my first
contact on Uranus with anything dramatically dif ferent from what I had
known on Earth. The anxiety attack report that she delivered with such
concern was the new element. This was my first moment of genuine inner
excitement. Until then I was disappointed at this planet called Uranus,
modeled after Earth. Or vice versa. Did we model ourselves after them. I
ruled that out right away. On Earth we certainly had no anxiety attack
reports. I was going to find out, right from the person who delivered that
report, everything I’d need to know to file my own account of the residents
of Uranus. I was thrilled at the thought of it, since until then I had figured
that my final statement on this entire visit, this project of assessing Uranus
in all its many facets, would be summed up in a report composed of one
word: “Ditto. ”
I knew that “ditto” would not impress my fellow Earthlings. If nothing
else, Eykis was going to save me from having the distinction of being the
first space traveler to file a one-word summation. I dozed of f thanking this
Eykis lady. My instincts were finely tuned. T omorrow I must find and talk
with this marvelous woman whom I knew instinctively that I loved.
Wayne W. Dyer
Who is the author of the book "Gifts from Eykis"?
To help people take the proper precautions to avoid anxiety attacks
What is the purpose of the anxiety attack reports on Uranus?
The people on Uranus do not harm each other, as they are reality-based and do not believe in the concept of harm
What is the main difference between the inhabitants of Uranus and those on Earth?
It does not exist in the reality of the people on Uranus, as they do not believe in the concept of harm
What is the concept of "harm" in the context of the story?
It is used to help individuals correct their behavior and learn from their mistakes, and then go into rewind to change their behavior
What is the purpose of the guilt-prodder on Uranus?