Moonlight Serenade

From a distance you see the twinkling in the pond light, cool breeze on your skin, stars illuminating dark night.

Holding hands with a shadow of a former self – a dark teacher wrapped around your legs. You’re standing at the edge of this clearing looking out over a mirrored, watery field of knowledge and growth – Most dare not request to see its center.

There are mind lights throughout the  mucky swamp – the fireflies of existence – set around the pond of the mind. Life grows here. Youth is maintained here. There is no end to how deep you can explore. Cat tails waving among the tall grass, frogs and crickets and the creaking pines are writing your serenade.

You walk toward that sparking pond, and realize the moon is directly above – draping this landscape in a pale blue hue. Strip down to your self, you, and show the waxing lady how deep the human psyche is.

The water is cold – refreshing and awakening as you wade into the thick slippery muck. Seeping up between your toes like worms within a rotten apple. Up to your knees in past thoughts and decisions. Don’t let this be as far as you make it.

You notice sticks protruding out of the water around you, some painted with tribal, others with flag colors or family crests – angling toward the centre of the pond. Each stick was placed by ancestors before you, each stick represented how far your lineage has come.

The time has come for you to make your mark on the collective consciousness – you dig deep, wading out until you can’t touch the bottom. The feeling of vast, dark emptiness below your feet like you’re hanging by a fish hook – the threat of being devoured by some mythical monster with a gaping mouth and rows of sharp teeth, just far enough below the surface to hide beneath you – but you tread on.

You can’t do it- your mind starts to reel – no one has ever made it to the very centre of their being, what were you thinking!! Why did you even try! – your mind whips you with anxiety, panic and lies. Ego is the worst enemy of mankind.

The ego is cold and the pond is beginning to freeze – with you inside. You look down, tears in your eyes, and see the frozen faces of all those that fell victim to indecisions, prides, material worlds – faces of those that would never plant another peg. They died while living, masks in tact, their precious past defining them and possessions at their feet. Stagnant and frozen – a mental hell of sorts, in this pool of life.

You are limitless, buoyant, warm and forgiving – you can surpass those before you, you have their collective wisdom all around you, others who dared to venture further. Just see it.

The ice is receding and warming the waters the more you realize that only this moment matters. Decide now, try now, live now, forgive now. To forgive does not mean to forget – you forgive for you, not others. Forgive yourself – utilize every new moment.

Treading water – You grab the  longest staff, which happens to be the one closest to you – and drag it, puffing and panting, to the center of your mind. It is the heaviest – roughest – most awkward thing you’ve ever handled. It scars you hands, it steals your breath and yet you do it alone, and succeed. This is meditation.

That voice is no longer fighting you – you did it. You made your mark, and now you can grow into it. Every time you hear the word can’t – come back to this pool and swim out in the dark star lit mirror of your successes, and live in sync with the wax and wane of many moons – dying to each day, and living every given breath with vigor.


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