11: As the river flows, so the Wanderer goes

All I ever wanted was simple. A husband who hugged me close. A child on my lap, laughing with full abandon. The worries of everyday life in the land of the normal.

All I never got was that.

I am the wife of no one. I am the mother of no one. My womb is empty, my arms are, too.

Instead I embrace the wind as I walk.

I am the Wanderer. Forever cursed to travel alone. Or. Maybe not cursed, it just feels that way, when my road takes me close to sandboxes of grimy, happy kids and coffee shops with lovers discreetly holding hands as if nursing their own hidden secret of a love.
 
I am the Wanderer. My road takes me away. Always away. Always towards. In the horizons hope lingers. Maybe it could still be? Maybe I could still become them? The wheels of the Dream Factory grind into gear and the fabric of starlight and long forgotten tales flow effortlessly into the night: Maybe I could be whole, healed, my broken pieces finally in place. Maybe then I could be accepted into the flock? Maybe my anger would lessen, my acid-like resentment evaporate, my mistrust bow to a new life of love? Could I?

I love the dream, I linger in it, the feeling of safety like afternoon sunbeams on my beat-up soul. But in my bones I know I was meant to walk.

I carry the light, it shines from my lantern. I cover my head with the dark hood. I have walked for centuries, when I died at the road side, I came back again.

This time around a fear deep within me, irrational, or maybe not; Being old and tired, poor. No shoes, no food, no shelter. Trying to sleep in the ditch of a dusty road. Alone.

But then also this: It is ok. I don’t need the shoes. I don’t need the shelter. I don’t need the food. I am radiant. I let the light flow through me, into this world. It is so strong, it tears me apart, always taking a little of me with it. That’s ok. It is just the form, my body is breaking down, but I will have a new one.

The light comes from the other side. It is leaking into this world from where I came from. It is peace. Love. A thousand little bells ringing all at once, like the laughter of all the worlds children the second before they were born.

It is breaking this world apart as well, a flood like the original flood, tearing all structures down like they were made out of cardboard and sticks. The destruction feels dangerous to the part of me that forgets. The part that dreams of a husband and child. It feels soothing to the other part, the part that knows the cycle of time; None of this is real anyway. Everything is made of dust. Nothing lasts. Let’s let in the light.

When it all get’s unbearable, when the pressure of normal feel like a straightjacket and you fear disintegration and the eternal scream of the hollow inside - let’s look for the light. A tiny, tiny little speck of a flicker of a flame. That is the birth of the new world. That is our Universe’s becoming. It is you. Springing into existence, being the tiniest of Big Bangs. Just watch it unfold out there in the distance - watch you unfold. Slowly, in an instant, be the borderless all. Be the beginning of super novas and black holes alike. All the wonders. Northern lights and dust bowls.

This is why I am here; I am here to be of service. I am here to help you remember. I am waiting for you at the cross roads, and you find me every time.

So many times we have done this; You’re at a juncture, you don’t know which way to go. So you stop and go no where. Or you know, but you don’t want to know; which way is yours. So you close your eyes tight, that way you can’t see the light, you won’t. You rebel against it. I rebel against it. It is not easy to let go of this world, to remember it’s demands are not all there is. Maybe they are not even necessary to follow at all. It stirs fear. Can I? Leave the herd? Go a different route? Maybe steer of the path all together?

I am here to help you open those eyes again, ever so slowly, peaking through your fingers at first. Is it night? That’s ok. I am here to hold up my lantern for you, while we walk a little together. I walk alone. But I am there to keep you company when you need a little light to find your way again.

I am always here. I am the Wanderer. I hold up the lantern. By this light you see the cross roads. You remember that this light is your light.

I am you.

I stand trembling before the choice; do I go left, or do I go right? I am the one, who feel the song in my heart, the gentle voice calling: ”You know the answer already. All of your being know it already. You have always known. The right way is the way that leads to freedom". It is the one where fear falls away like ashes of an old bonfire, when you blow at the flame to awaken a new one.

You sit at the bonfire at the beginning of time, and the flame is your soul. The breath is me, and I am waking you up. I am blowing gently to light your embers, and you will become a fire so magnificent that witnessing your force will make me smile. I am you. You are me. Together we will remember why we are here. To wake the others up and to help them find the bonfire, so we can sit together under the stars like in the beginning again.

I am the Wanderer. I walk alone. But I am never alone. We all walk together. We’re on the way home. We’re always already there.