Tuesday July 13, 2010 10:06 PM East Java Time
More reflection on the passing of my self beneath the sea, and on her, who comes to me in quiet dreams, and reminds me through her beauty of all that I must be…
I saw her again last night. Between fits of sleeplessness, I pursued her in my dreams and found myself saddened by her absence when I awoke. She was slender, this time with the complexion of a local - dark brown hair and light brown eyes, and far too good for me. I proposed to her, because she wanted me to, and in doing so I realized how much I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She was seductive, but only because she had the innocence I feel so long has escaped me. I was afraid to touch her, afraid even to speak to her, because I felt her beauty overwhelming and I, undeserving of her attention.
And yet the feeling of knowing that she wanted me, in all of my faults and inadequacies, was far more satisfying than the sight of her. She was pursued by many, and yet somehow I found the great fortune to catch her eye, to be chosen by her to walk at her side.
Why the insecurity, I can only confess that my dreams are only dreams. But in them, great truth reveals itself through subtle details. She was wearing a yellow dress, just below her knees, and her hair was straight and long. Why yellow? And why straight hair? I hope to learn more in my pursuit of her tonight. She was perfect, and she was standing before me, asking me to hold her hand and walk with her. Again, ashamed of my insecurity, I should know that there is none more worthy than me for her attention and affection. Still my doubts arise because she leaves when I can hear myself breathe, when the wind rasps at the window, and the sunlight filters through the curtains of the windows.
I have found her several times in the course of the last few years and yet in the stillness of the night I have lost her before morning. Last night she came to me, not I to her. And I believe now in my heart that all my travels have taken their toll on me. Am I ready to live alone? I have learned to do so just fine. But what she teaches me in the middle of the night is that I long to be with her, despite the calluses I have built around my heart. I am not made to be alone. But my past impatience has brought me pain, and she knows how hard I have searched for her among the others, only to be left alone and helplessly awaiting her next return.
I did not see her yesterday beneath twenty feet of raging ocean, but she found me in my sleep when I survived. And now I know that I am meant to live, partially in pursuit of her and partially in pursuit of a better me. She shows me, in holding my hand, that I have things that I must change about myself: my thoughts are unfiltered and words often insincere. Deliberate action based on deliberate thought, a slowing down of self and a focus on the small details in life that are just as beautiful as she. The fact that I am alive – that I can see and hear and feel and taste and smell the world around me – is the awareness that she seeks in me.
To have her means to have myself mended, and perhaps she leaves each time because this process has not yet begun. Like the whirling ocean that dragged me to my death, she leads me to confront the things that I most fear: Self-reflection and a change in self. But, in the torrent of my drowning, she also provides me the opportunity to begin again, and the beauty of that first breathe of air - the purity of its taste upon my lungs – is all that matters. She wants me to sense the fullness in every moment, to take each breath as unique and essential, and to forget my fears of what could come and regrets of what has been, and remember to hold her hand in this present moment.
I could have died yesterday. In a way I did. And this dream of her has reminded me of the beauty of life. I lost everything in my quiet moment alone. I lost my hope and I lost my fear. I lost my need for things, and the things I thought I needed. I lost my ambition and my laziness, my joys and my sorrows. And I have gained the present moment, as I was thrown about in helplessness, and I realized that now is all I have.
Words will never describe the clarity of thought I had when I finally gave up my fear and desperation, my arrogance and pride, and accepted that my body might belong beneath the sea. I felt alive, truly alive, and sensed the salty water upon my flesh and in my lungs, as though for the first time. And, had I better sense, I would have known this all along. But as she comes to me when I least expect, when I am most resigned to forget her beauty and seek comfort in the company of myself, these moments attach themselves like wind to the wings of butterflies, and escort me back to my reality.
Will she return to me tonight? I can only hope. I have thought about her much today, in reflecting on my death, in hopes that she might come again tonight. But if I sleep so sound as to escape her visit, I know one day soon I will see her again. And my hope is that I will feel secure in holding her hand, knowing that I have learned to live the beauty of life in the present moment, and that I will no longer feel as though her innocence is too pure for me. For I know that my past is behind me, and my future too far for now. Only this moment exists. Only now can I be the man that I have longed to be- the one who will propose to her to spend the rest of her life with me, as long as that will be, one present moment to the next. Because in this moment I am perfect, and suitable for one as perfect as she…
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