The Will to Change

I stepped into the darkened parlor, only a candle illuminated the room from the piano in the corner. A sound like a clock ticking trailed off in the distance.  Each tic coincided with the beat of my heart. I moved deeper into the shadows trying to unfold the mystery that lingered, invisible in the air.

I touched the cool wood of the table and felt the soft velvet that covered the sofa. My senses were tingling with anticipation. I felt faint, almost out of breath, I felt as if I had been battered by the tenacious waves of the ocean. Something was coming over me.

I was met by a vision; something loomed heavy in the corner. I knew that there was a messenger here. He had come for me to impart his wisdom. “Show yourself!” I protested. But nothing came from the darkness.

Catching my breath, I sat on the sofa. I pulled the warm air into my lungs and let the scent of musk and roses fill me. There was something different here. Something I had never felt before. Or maybe I was never open to its mystery.

Suddenly it came to me. The figure appeared like a bead of light moving through a dark sky. It was the spirit of change. Some may call it death, others may call it life, but I simply call it change.

The figure held out its hand. I could only make out the slight structure… tall, thin, and able. I felt with every fiber of my being that it was time. Time to let go of the worn-out and the old. Time to move into the future, fearless and alive. I knew it wasn’t the end, but actually the beginning.

Loud and clear I heard from within the body of light, “Dance! The secret of life is to dance!”… and then the light receded back into shadows like the dying embers of a fire. Darkness absorbed all traces of light until only I was left, with this vision and this message to carry on in my head.

I closed my eyes. Startled. Moved. Changed. I knew that everything would be okay.

Dancing With Freedom, As Death Dances Away

The night has grown around me, dark, velvet and gentle and with it comes a graceful coolness that subtly creeps into the hollow parts of me… reminding me of what has been lost. In my life I have seen dark things, dangerous things, things that have cut me so deep that not even time can take their sting away. And yet I’ve danced with so much passion and beauty that I often wonder what can come to rival what’s been before.

I sit here and I am reminded of the beautiful lights that I’ve lost along the way. The ones, who’ve touched me, loved me… who have felt me in the deepest, most tender places of my heart and soul. Many hands have held my own, but very few have really lived in my world. So as their lives have faded away I try to keep alive the memories of the love they’ve given to me.

On a lonely night in July I pass through memories by candlelight. Faces that I’ve missed in my life, voices I will never hear again and the warm feeling of fur brushing against my sullen face. I try to close my eyes and reach with all my sense the feelings of being with them. But only the faintest of feelings can be experienced now. Its not as if real life can be recreated in pictures and memories… our thoughts can work backwards but they will never truly turn back time.

I myself have spoken to spirits… I have whispered to shadows… but I’ve never walked the time line back to a place where I could rekindle the connects which I’ve so desperately longed for. They are shinning stars too far from my reach too touch, but close enough that I still see them. And in that vast universe of possibilities I will hold them like precious gems… cherished forever.

Death is a reminder to us that everything is in constant motion; an endless dance that moves us from one phase to the next. Passing through doors you remain a part of the changeless change. As a caterpillar dies to the beauty of a butterfly, so does our soul here on earth shed it shell to fly with something a little more spectacular, brilliant and gleaming. Death is the teacher, the keeper and the lover. Death gives us the gift of living… if only we see it before our time.

I know that no matter how much it hurts that all of my angels are by my side. They stand tall with me and my tears become the sea and the boat of my dream floats gently with their guiding winds. There is nothing to fear no matter how alone I am. I look into the water and there next to my reflection are all those who have ever loved me. So I hug myself tight, trying hard once again to soak up that ephemeral memory… knowing that at some point it will come again… no matter how different it may be.

To these feelings I assign two cards: The Death card and the 6 of swords.

Death, which is the keeper of change and the dance of the universe. Death is the one who reminds us to find our feet in the dark and just give into the sway, the grind, the wild twirl of everything that is. Death heralds change… but change is not destructive its alchemical.

The 6 of swords is the card that shows us the wisdom in contemplation, mediation and just drifting away. Those whom we love and have loved will come and go. Some will leave intentionally and others unexpected, but its all part of the beat that we are dancing to. If you were to veil your face in black lace, step onto a candle lit boat and glide effortlessly into the foggy sea you would find the meaning of this card. It is here in this silent place, where everything moves with the tides and the moon, that we find what really lives in our souls.

Don’t forget those whom you have touched and who have touched you… remember we are all lights trying to lift the darkness. There is nothing that has to separate you… not color, gender, race or religion. Rely less on form and more on feeling… when we live through are spirit we truly find our way.

To the gypsies,

Shaheen

 

© Shaheen Miro 7/11/2011