Reality dawned on me like the harsh sunrise after a long and cold night; when I found something I had lost today as I walked home from the church building. It was somewhat off to the side, in my favorite part of the city. If I had not sat down beside that fountain, and if it weren't for that very hour of that very day, I might have missed it because the sunlight hit it ever so slightly and sent its shine my way. It was so familiar even though I had not seen it in years. It was a decent size, well, the same size it was when I lost it. So I picked it up and put it in my pocket until I could figure out if, and how, it worked after all these years.
I had been strolling through my beautifully cultured hometown soaking it deep into my skin. It has been so long since I was here, not just physically but emotionally. I walked up to my favorite "praca" in the whole city (where they held the weekly Hippie Fare every Sunday morning) and sat on the ledge of a fountain where the water pours out of a stone horse's mouth into the fountain pool; but today, it was dry. I was surrounded with towering Cathedrals, hundreds of pigeons, the brightest buildings you have ever seen, a giant clock made of flowers and the sunlight that reflected its heat off the cobblestone. The construction workers were on their 32nd break today as they stopped to watch the women gracefully swagger by on the uneven cobblestone, perfectly in the highest and skinniest heels you have ever seen. It was not but seconds following that moment when the misplaced object caught my eye.
I picked it up hesitantly, because it had been so long and it had become unfamiliar to my touch. However, the longer I held it, the more familiar it grew. With the object secure in the pocket of my jeans, I got up and began my journey through a trail of meaningful spots, knowing that those places would trigger my knowledge on how to navigate this familiar trinket back into my life. I carried it with me, eager to finally be able to use it. It had belonged to me before and when I found it, I could not believe I had lived so long without it. It burned a hole in my pocket as I walked, and I wished I could take it out and use it already. But this thing...it didn't work that way; there were things I had to do first. People commuted through the city like ants scattered from a disturbed ant hill. The city bustled, it was so alive. The beauty and the simplicity of the people are stunning and it moves me. Allowing that simplicity and beauty to flow into my heart and break down all the unnecessary and complicated poisons that had built up over time must be what finally opened my eyes to that object I had lost.
I checked on the object on the inside of my pocket, and it felt like it had grown a little since I held it last. I stopped at the first stop of my trail, and sat on a small wall. Just the feeling of the object sent excitement through my veins. As I had predicted, the trail began to inspire old feelings and thoughts. This specific stop was obviously a personal invitation for ghost number one, because it popped its gloomy head into my peripheral and grinned at me. I felt the object in my hand, and realized that this time; there were things I had to say to this ghost. So I did: “For some reason when you described your love for the smell of this city, and the sewer, I thought of this street; this exact one. Maybe it's because of our friend that lived in that salmon colored building. Either way, I brought you here with me...and I am leaving you here when I go. Ironically, there is a cemetery right across the street, so you won't be alone. Now you can dance with all the ghosts of this street, of this city, instead of mine; because I am taking mine off the dance floor. I found this...thing I had lost. So I am leaving your ghost here, and taking this with me instead.”
As I moved past the skate park, on my way to the second stop on my trail I checked on the object in my pocket, and it had grown a little more. The sound of skateboards hitting the concrete echoed past the music in my headphones and the boys without t-shirts whisked by the girls who sat on the railing hoping to be noticed. I sat on the bench and sure enough, ghost number two appeared on the bench and stared at me quizzically. It surprised me that I had anything to say to this ghost at all, especially after all this time. But I did, so I did: “You know, we parted ways here once, holding our pride ransom to another huge fight. This journey began with you, and I will always remember that piece of time and how it felt. I allowed you to make me crazy and push myself past the breaking point. But you were always comfortable, a reliable ghost to fall back on when the others were busy. But I don't need a fall back anymore. I have carried you with me too long now, and I think we are both ready for a new place to live. The cemetery is across the street from here too. So I know that you will not be alone either, when I finally leave you here on this bench after all these years.”
I crossed the street and entered the cemetery to the third and last stop of my trail. It was always so eerily quiet in this cemetery, even though it sat on a main street. The noises of the city remained outside this little village of the deceased and their house sized graves. Silence clung to the walls, as the cats quietly slinked by as if they were rubbing against the leg of the old patriarchal ghosts. I propped up my elbows on one of the grave “buildings” and the hot marble warmed my skin. I heard footsteps behind me, far too close to me, especially when I'm alone in a cemetery. I turned around abruptly and caught the eye of a very sketchy looking man whose gaze lasted a little too long. I shuddered at how creepy the scene had become of all a sudden as Mr. Sketch continued on his way down the cobblestone road towards the back of the cemetery. I turned back around to face the marble grave top, and though it caught me at a creepy time, I was not surprised to see the third ghost sitting on the marble, shaking its cold head at me. The warm marble suddenly served no purpose for the chill that ran down my spine. My heart skipped a beat and trapped my breath; I was not as prepared to face this ghost. So I hurriedly reached for the object in my pocket for reassurance. It wasn't there.
How could it not be there?! All I did was cross the street, and I haven't even messed with my pock....oh! Ok, wrong pocket. I told myself to calm down as I breathed through my nose, and I felt reassurance wash over me as I found the object where I had left it, and it had grown again. I felt my head spin as the words came to me. The ghost cocked its head at me, daring me to find the strength I always promised to find, but never did. Regardless of whether or not I had the strength, I still had something to say to this cocky ghost. So I did: “We walked through this very cemetery together, holding hands, amazed at how beautiful the graves were. We were corpses, except that we didn't know how dead we were at the time. Ironic, I know. I held out as long as I could, holding onto you and letting you haunt my heart and convince me to keep my grip on to your friend Potential, as well. But Potential has slipped from my grasp, so you are all I have had to cling to. Remember when we watched that man carry that box of black magic and pig pieces to the back of this cemetery? I've tried everything else, so I was thinking that maybe the pig's snout in that box could bring some life back to your eyes, but I can't; I don't practice black magic. Plus, being the stronghold has lost all its glamour. I will leave you here, in this cemetery to chase after all the things that might heal what's eating you. I have been waiting too long to live, to die here with you.”
I continued my walk home, past the naked angel fountain, past the hospital, and the gas station. The walk seemed lighter, almost like I was gliding. But I know these moments, we go way back, and they don't last ever forever. Soon there would be new ghosts. But I hoped and believed that this thing in my pocket was the answer to all those ghosts, and like a compass it would guide me.
I had heard a line in a song recently, and I had never realized the significance it held until I arrived home from this walk. The line read "Sometimes goodbye is a second chance." Personally, goodbyes are like a bruise on my heart that never ever leaves, and every time it is touched, it stings. I have been saying goodbyes since I was six, so that bruise...it just grows deeper and deeper. But this line, it gave me a new angle on goodbyes that was fabulously enlightening. I realized that I had been given this SAME opportunity before. I had been back in this SAME physical place and the SAME emotional place, with a future ahead of me and fire in my heart. However, within 6 months I had lost that fire and I had begun the building process of a home for of a new ghost. I had to do things differently.
I looked back in time and put the pieces of the puzzle together by tracing my mistakes and analyzing my failure. As I finished the puzzle, I realized it was missing a piece. So I took the object from my pocket. It grew to be the same shape, same height, and even the same weight as me. The puzzle was lacking that object and could never be complete without it. I gazed at this object wondering why it had taken me so long to realize it was missing. But the object was mine now, and I wasn't letting it go. It's a rare occasion that people are able to find their self worth when they lose it. So I placed the long lost self worth in the missing part of the puzzle, and it fit perfectly. I looked at the finished puzzle and saw that the missing piece not only completed the puzzle, but it also brought out the self respect and value out of the puzzle, thus making it shine so much brighter. I was amazed at how simply everything fit together when I added that piece, and I realized that I didn't have to do things the same way this time around. The goodbyes this time are a second chance, and I fully intend to take it. And the missing object was a gift, and I fully intend to use it. My spirit relaxed as it dawned on me that times would never be as rough because God game the sight to complete this puzzle. I hope those ghosts like their new places, because they are definitely not missed by this one. Reality set down on me giving me relief, like the cool dark night after a long hot day.
No comments:
Post a Comment