…and then the sun rose. Then he inhaled deeply and spread his wings to fly once again.
Figuratively of course, but he did fly. It’s a great feeling when your heart is finally released from the shackles that have weighed it down. Suddenly it beats stronger. Suddenly it beats louder. Suddenly you begin to feel alive again. With a smile and a growl of gratitude he peered at the light just beginning to peek over the horizon, breathed deeply the crisp, clean morning air and turned to face the world he had all but ignored in the imprisonment in which he had exiled himself to.
The Ghost had held him in a place where he failed to see his value. She had created in him beliefs that were untrue. Finally, however, it created in him the conditions for that great journey toward the figurative heavens we call healing. He began to recognize the truths of his time with the Ghost, and he began to recognize the illusions he had created during that time. He had lowered himself to a place of servitude, a place where he ignored his needs and a place where he began to be a weakened version of a once-stoic figure.
My, how the ego loves to see the stoic figure of a strong man quiver beneath its feet! A sorrowful voice echoed out within his mind…he craved the idol that was the Ghost. He craved the attention. He even craved the drama to some extent and yes, he craved the sex. He could journey there and feel peace; a strange mixture of stillness and desire wrapped in a blanket purely of his own making. Now, the voice, the idol, the blanket were all uninvited to the vast clearing that was his New Earth. Here he ruled his kingdom with a sense of purpose the Spirit herself determined irrelevant.
In some respects his time there had been a blessing. He had learned again to trust his intuition, and that the stories people tell are a mask of their own design that they must learn to deal with. Even as he wondered about the stories the Ghost told now he discovered he didn’t care. The truth has a miraculous way of rising to the top of any river regardless of how quickly or chaotically it flows. He now knew the truth and knew that the truth and the Ghost could not live in the same place. If he wanted to live the truth he had to banish the Ghost to that world where only she could reside, where only she could exert control.
The sun moved even more over the horizon. The pink and orange tinged clouds began to announce the coming of a new day and a new moment. He looked to the left and there was no one. He looked to his right – again no one. He raised his hands and looked at their emptiness. No sadness. No remorse. Nothing but a smile at the knowledge that he was free. There would be no drama this day. There would be no lies to deal with. There’d be no question in his mind of where he stood. He looked down at his feet solid on the beautiful, green Earth and he found that familiar warmth in his heart. He closed his eyes and where the Ghost once came to life all he could see now was the light of the sun coming in through his closed eyelids. He had been exorcised and where the scar existed that announced her departure there was nothing but smooth skin. He could now again hear the voices of possibility echo in his heart. He could sense the beginnings of something wonderful rumble in his Being. He was free, and he was feeling the beauty of all around him. The smile was his, and the emotion was him.
In the turmoil of “The End” he had often wondered if his soul would ever heal. As the quakes subsided and the truth was revealed he understood something even more simple than he could have ever imagined. He was healing from the very beginning. The End was the culmination of a process. It had brought him to the realizations he needed to move beyond the turmoil and to once again find a trust within him that counted more than the stories some Spirit had told him.
He could hear other spirits calling out to him and he would follow. They were the winds of his kingdom, and he meant to sail them to whatever worlds they had meant for him to see. The freedom of an eagle who would dare spread his wings to summit a mountain, or glide just above a prairie, is as exciting as it is awe-inspiring. There are no false idols in the eagle’s nest, only a sense of the wind, the air, and the sky itself. He had never felt this freedom, and he meant to experience it. There would be a “yes” in every questions of “should I?”. There’d be a sense of limitless in the vastness of his kingdom. There’d be a story in every moment and a truth in ever breath. He was truly free, and he was truly home.
Now, he just sat still in as the sun finally made its way completely above the horizon. He turned to those who truly loved him and smiled. He embraced them in his heart as he touched them with his mind. Romantic love would come as the river in his heart ran cleaner and purer with ever beat. For now he would be happy with the touch of his friends, the embrace of his partners, and the love of his soul. His new vow had become a simple one. He would just be happy and he would be free. That would be enough and anything else would be promptly uninvited to his Earth. If it didn’t make him smile it wouldn’t stand the trial.
With that the wind took him and with that the sky itself opened up to…