The Glass Box

  It was a sad and torturous moment. Something that happened that didn't seem real to me. Something it seemed as if I was watching from the outside or on a movie screen. Who was that girl and what was happening to her? But that's how I look at all things...everything is just an event tucked away neatly in a box and every now and again it gets pulled out.

     The box is big and heavy and full, events from long ago and recent past. To the lay person it would seem like a box of junk. Nothing more than yard sale trinkets at best. Luckily the person holding the box is able to see so much more-a torn picture, a book of poetry, happy faces and sad ones, events that can't be changed, but held onto forever. I hope I don't lose that box of events.....good or bad, sad or indifferent. They developed a life lived with many people in it and although I frequently look at the box as it is made of glass, I find myself perusing the thought that it will become alive again. Somehow the box of meaning would be understood and valued its worth.

     And alas! The box opened and the energy that released was colossal! At first, everything around this perfect square of glass did not move…almost frozen in time. Nothing had changed but everything was so different. The vivid pictures and the meanings exploded violently in powerful surges that just couldn't be contained. So many times, over and over and just when it seemed the box had purged all of its content I stepped close, hesitant but wanted to look inside. Although the box was made of glass, it seemed it was boundless....no bottom or no end. I wanted to look inside. I wanted to see...

     Nervous but with great anticipation I peeked over the edge of the box and was shocked at what I saw. A familiar face was looking back at me. Almost like a picture painted of many heart-aches, joy’s, sorrow and pride; a collage of many colors, shapes, pretty and un-pretty. The box was empty and only the reflection remained. The image showed the heartless wear of time.

     Every moment in the life was etched in the face staring back at me like lines etched in glass with perfect  simplicity, it made you wonder if pieces would fall out suddenly to the floor. Pieces would shatter and that piece of life would be no more. Would it be forgotten? Would it simply be swept away by the ever-changing winds that forever blow? Surely each box has a memory to hold each moment in time. Surely the precious items in the glass could not be etched away and forgotten. Wishing I was ten minutes younger, I wished I hadn't found this glass box. I pushed it away saddened by the rush of feelings that still permeated the air. I became angry at what the box had become and what the image was inside. The anger within me boiled to a hate. Why did I get this particular box? I yelled at it, cursing its existence as if my voice would be heard or that my rant would make a difference in the choices that were made.

     Sitting in my own puddle of tears I looked up and all around me... as if I were looking for someone to explain my contempt. I needed someone to rationalize the wave of emotions that washed over me like the ocean on the beach, with every tide pieces of sand being washed away. Bit by bit the pull of the tide took more each time except now the waves were quicker and time moving faster. I looked at the glass box and wondered why it was chosen for me. How much more would it hold? Was it truly endless or would it eventually be closed tight and sealed....forever?

     Crossing one leg over the other, I decided to stand...to regain balance in an unbalanced moment. As I stood, I realized that I wasn’t alone. There was a bird sitting in a nest on the lowest branch of a tree watching me. After brushing myself off, I looked at the bird and said, "Good Day". The bird did not answer and in fact turned its head as if it didn’t hear me. I walked closer to the bird in the nest and I said again, louder, "Good Day!" The bird ruffled its feathers and came to its feet. Making deliberate, unnecessary movements the bird finally spoke. He said, "I guess you think because you are new here you feel the need for a personal guide...well, I’m not your guide. But I will tell you that you need to pick up your box and carry it as far into the forest as possible". Wiping the dirt off my knees, I picked up the box and without a word I carried it deep into the forest. I figured the only way I could find out the true meaning of the box was to find the source....the source was deep within...deep within the forest that held all the answers.

     As I walked further into this seemingly untouched and overgrown pastoral scene, my vision instantly became sharper.  My surroundings were so vivid with life and color, so many things to see.  It’s as if someone had placed corrective glasses over my eyes as the clarity was too impeccable.  The sprawling branches of the trees covered in dew, in the most perfect verdant with a majestic canopy in which seemed to envelope me.  Quiet but inviting I held my box close.  Not really sure in which direction I was to go, I just followed the natural habitat of beauty.  Yes, this was right.  With each step onto the lush forest bed, I realized my auditory senses were much stronger.  Each step I took resonated to my very core.  Was this Heaven?  Would this be what a Heaven would be like?  The further I walked the forest began to encompass me.  Now I knew I didn’t know where the true beginning or the end was which frightened me because my box was becoming very heavy.  Coming to what seemed like a fork in my path I put down my box and sat on it.  “Am I crazy?” I thought to myself.  “I have this glass box I’m carrying into the middle of nowhere because a talking bird told me to?”  Resting my elbow on my knee, cupping my chin in my hand I began tapping my lip with my finger like I always do when I’m nervous or deep in thought when I suddenly hear this calamity of noise.  The sound was so intense and loud it was as if a thousand cymbals were crashing together at once!

      Spinning on my toes while holding myself close, I turned to locate the noise.  Holding my hand over my squinting eyes I scan all around me, moving slowly and cautiously suddenly afraid and now only hearing the thump, thump, thump of my heart beating nearly out of my chest.  Fearing I'm not alone in this desolate place, on this personal conquest into a place unknown, I felt the sudden urge to run and to hide but I knew that no matter where I tried, there would be no stopping the need to know.  Could I hold myself back?  I could just run in the direction I had just come and hope someday my questions will be answered.  I could stay here, tired and afraid with my box the way it is and relive the events over and over again dwelling on the content inside, unpacking and repacking hoping that somehow that would make a difference.  Or, I could pick up my box and move forward, in the direction of the noise, the unknown, to try and find what it was my soul was searching for.  Standing in deafening silence now, I bend over and pick up my box and move forward knowing that somewhere out there in this remote adventure there are eyes all around me.  They are watching.

 

Walking as if my life depended on it, I could hear the forest bed crunching underneath every step. Why did it seem so quiet now? It's as if I was moving through a time that stood still. At this point in my journey I had no sense of direction, did not know where I was going or why ...and it really didn't matter. The decision had been made and the urge to keep going was unforgiving. The air thick with scrutiny, it seemed each breath became more difficult. Each rise and fall of my chest was a monumental gain. Happy with my progress though despite the obstacles, I know what I have done is right. I know that answers I had been needing were being answered and the blanket of doubt had been lifted. I was sure now. I was sure that my direction, no matter how far and how treacherous would lead me to that place of comfort I longed to be.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uL9PGrDXw4c