Redemption

I walk down this grey hallway. I can hear my steps, the humming sound in the walls, a moan, a murmur from deep within. I am alone but I am not alone. Here, I remember. I remember who I am.

Here, I do not ask, do not pray, do not want or need. Then I feel a kind of power vibrate. And I know without any doubt, that my choice to be alone, on my own, for this little time, in this space, is right and good and true.

I am influenced by nothing and no one. There is a protective layer so thick that surrounds me, one could mistaken it for a defense mechanism. This interpretation would be incorrect, though. It is just my voice shining through. Finally, that subdued voice has had a chance to come through in all its glory with purpose and meaning. It has barreled through the density of thought and feeling and in doing so, has helped this density become lighter. It disperses right before my eyes and I can sense the lightness from the inside too.

Do you want vulnerability? Do you want me to break down and open up, so that you can help me rebuild anew? Is this what you want from me or for me? I had better trust you first. This requires that you lead by example. This requires that you walk your talk. Otherwise, this protective layer does indeed become my wall, and rightfully so. I can’t rely on anyone who won’t make attempts to catch me when I fall, he who gives only that which he does not miss...

When you’ve had enough, your body, heart and mind look for refuge. The stillness within will not betray or lead you astray. One’s former self begins to dissolve and one can see things more clearly. There is one catch, though. You may not like what you discover, what you see, not only about yourself but about the other, too. In this space, we are equal. Out there, one must be cautious, must use discernment. The people we meet on our path will always be for our own learning, although, not necessarily for our own good.

It’s just the past catching up to me, the unsaid rushing in like a river demanding to be heard. The shades are raised and the sun is shining through in all its beauty. What was I thinking? Where was my sword? Why did I doubt its power in my time of need?

I am amazed how one night under the sheets can bring so much clarity in the morning. What workings take place during sleep? I underestimate sleep’s ability to awaken. May I never doubt again. I am grateful and in awe at how my helpers come. They are kind and merciful, only merciless when they need to be, when it is imperative I see that which must not be hidden from me any longer.

I must learn to discern when guardedness is appropriate, when it is for my own protection, when it is a reflection of the voice coming through as a form of help. I see now how my voice persisted, insisted because I had been taking far too long in accepting its advice. But still it was patient and unwavering and for this, I will forever be indebted. May I never falter again.