Gently enduring my spirit, I sought to be found. There had been apprehension mixed with mischief in the hot breaths exuding from our forms. It was a class of warriors. Commonly known as humans, I suspected myself and each of them attending to be greater than we knew. Anyone who entered left a sobering outlier. Our selves too crisp now to be obsessed with the banal attempts to acquire any old thought. From this moment onward ulterior motives would wither for the juices flowing in our veins were crafting inconceivably sanguine sonnets to our souls.
This night was both similar and starkly different than any other California summer spell’s eve. By average accounting, it was a regular weeknight. On the one hand, I’d merely walked into a typical southern Cali liberal-leaning holistic workshop to get in tune with my body. On the same hand, I came to release any burdens off my mind and body. What became unique was the dominoes of serendipitous offerings life wanted to share upon my exit from this sacred event.
It’s a lively instance to be inaccessible to your own happiness, only to discover the confidence to beam you back to that secret space of cheery animation. With the simplicity of entering a portal of goodness, I’d chosen to place myself as a priority. What an opinion! Then slowly stepping a few feet out the door into the dark blue canvas of sky my eyes caught a discarded book laying on the sidewalk. Tattered corners and bent in half, the paperback beckoned me to pick it up. Accustomed to curiosity, I dove down with my left hand before even my noisy inner self could steal a beat to interrupt me. Glancing every which way, I determined the book’s owner long gone.
Nestled under all intuition and twisted amidst the wrinkles of our time snores a heart of lightness. I think we’re all calling out to a God in some way to relieve us of darkness as passionately as ocean foam crawls towards its land lover multiple times a day. We want to inhale and exhale the blaze of pure peacefulness. How dare a God or his nemesis demons give us so much darkness! We were born to gasp of bubbles or hushed quietude. Laughter ought to be our melody between the harmonies of thoughts and speaking. Luxuriating should be our toughest job, frolicking with Eve in the Garden of Eden. But this is not our usual lot.
Tales are turned by putting your noodle to work. As I flipped the soft and worn novel to its cover, a tranquility was revealed to me. In my hands lay Heart of Darkness. How fitting and ironic! I’d become one with myself again, deeply journeying to find the core of my serenity and lift to the light. I vaguely recollected the purpose of required reading this very book had bestowed in me originally during high school. Tonight’s unabridged gift from the ether became a talisman I poured through with verve. Reading is leisure and a lover to me same. Books prevent me from thinking too highly of myself while encouraging me to boldly comprehend beyond my own best estimate.
I fancied the murky words this book’s previous proprietor had chosen to underline. I began building a persona about why these lines and what made them cast off this torrid affront on humanity. With utter disgust, I could see someone mad at the world, at themselves, and choosing to throw off any parts that made one feel so naked against the cruel punishment of philosophizing that both the savage you think you know another is and your own being is far too close in proximity. The beauty of such darkness I took to heart to be an equalizer for the ages. We’re busy pointing fingers, call them shadows, instead of casting more stars to the heavens. Tearing others down has never ever achieved inertia. We must rise like the sun to be worthy of such light.
Soon after carrying grace in my mind and Conrad in my hands for a few days, I met with a similarly frayed and shabby leaf. The scraggly little thing was shaped like a heart. I found it along my path towards a broken human I was visiting. I knew I had to carry my light energy into this person’s space and here was that tiny compassionately starting back at me. I picked it up to place in the book for safe keeping. It quickly symbolized me to me — us to all, a sweetness surrounded by strife. The dichotomy pinched at my perceptions. Another layer of wisdom grounded me like gravity. Affectionately, I felt the urge to carry this song of promise into this story.
Your heart has a lightness of which hate and ugly cannot break. Lightness is the spirit where you are found.
Ever you be lost, may your highest heart guide you on.