#68

It’s raining out. I was sitting in my recliner not that long ago when I heard the sound of the outdoors. I didn’t know if it was the wind or if it was the rain….and I was suddenly struck with a memory. The kind of memory that makes me want to write. I ignored it to begin with and kept doing what I was doing….but in between I kept getting interrupted, interrupted by the sound of the outdoors. I decided that perhaps that was a sign that this is more important, so I put down what i was doing and opened the doors to my balcony and stepped out into the scenery awash in the rain.

Glorious water falling everywhere, quietly drenching the earth and all that’s within it. I looked out over to the lake and I saw the myriad of patterns emerging and submerging under the rain’s influence and I remembered. Yes, I remember that day…the day of the lightning and the day I realized something more important than most everything else. The day I realized the earth, the earth and all the substances that make up the material of what we are, of what everything is. The day I realized the water and life that flows in our bodies. The day I realized the fire that gives us conciousness, force and will. The day I realized the air that breathes and gives form to our thoughts and intellect. And the day I recognized the forces that push us together and pull us apart. I remembered that, looking out onto the water. I rememebered that I remembered the patterns that the falling rain makes and the stories that it tells.

Jacinta. I was right about her. I was always right about her. She’s something special; the world cries out to me and supports me in this. She is something special. I can’t forget this. There was something integrally important for me and for her in our relationship, in our harmony and in our union. Our union was a very profound and amazing one…it’s so much more than I’ve ever experienced and am apt to ever experience again. The world tells me so. I read it in the patterns in the rain. It’s important that I hold her always in my heart and to always remember her memory; I won’t forget. I will honour her. It’s something I have to do; the wind whispers this in my ear. I don’t yet know what it is…what I’m supposed to do…perhaps we’ll get together in the future and that’s all there is to it; fated love and fated union. Or perhaps the realization that accompanies the patterns in the rain can be taken a different way; perhaps the blindfold is placed not temporarily, but for the rest of my life. Perhaps it’s my fate to never be with her ever again. Thus, blinded. But that’s ok, I’ve learned much from her. I can walk without my eyes because my body will show me the way, my spirit will guide me in the right directions now that I’m tuned to the world around me, tuned into what it’s trying to show me, what it would have me do. I no longer need my eyes…my trust is beyond simple things like fear and apprehension. It’s beyond, too, all the cost that might be to me as well. This is just a life…just one life in the step of many. If i die, then perhaps that is what was meant to be. I’d gladly lay down my life if that was what was called for. All my own wants and desires are just that; for me and me alone. There is a great deal more to this world than just me; it’s simple better to move in tandem with the world and to make the world better for everyong. That’s what’s called for of me. I’ll do it. Blindfolded and alone; I am not afraid.