It was the most comfortable summer night I can remember- perhaps others may have considered it to be a bit too warm, for myself, however, I have a very high tolerance for heat so, were this the case I would have been just as comfortable. As my memory cues in I realize that this notion of it being too warm must be dismissed, for I specifically remember having a blanket. The blanket is composed of the colors brown, blue and green and is woven together in a stylish fashion that makes it seemingly already well used.
I had spent that entire day adjusting my body on the couch on the back screened-in porch as I read. These past few days I had found myself in a reading frenzy, averaging about three hundred pages a day and few hours of sleep. The book was The Alchemist written by one Paulo Coelho; it’s the type of book that makes one go, “Oh! I see- that must be the way the world works.” (But only in a less elementary nature.) What I learned from that book completely morphed the way I viewed the world in a variety of aspects; most significantly it taught me what I was to do for the rest of my life. As I rested there, curled up with my knees comfortably on my chest and wrapped in this blanket, I diligently read the last line: “Because now he knew where his treasure was.” I continued to lie completely still in my comfortable position, rereading that final sentence, attempting to juice the last possible drops of meaning from it that I possibly could. Finally, I had it.
Now, being one who dwells in the abstract I know not how many details I have to offer, but I will try. I closed the book in a definite manner and let out the sigh that one reserves for letting out at the end of a good book- the deep, mouth-closed and contented “hmmm”. Due to the fact this was the moment when everything from the past crazy three hundred and sixty five days finally made any hint of sense, I was soon joined by a feeling of an unending, complete and passionate elation. It came from an off-centered chasm in the core of my being, and even now I can access and harness this infinite energy. I stood up, tripping over the blanket and pushed through the screen door; releasing me into my backyard. The hinges squealed and I knew it was because they felt my delight.
“Namaste,” I yelled to the universe at large, knowing that this feeling was only the result of its work. “¡Qué un año!” (What a year!) I proclaimed in my disbelief.
Resting on these long legs, standing tall and feeling every possible aspect of the moment, I smiled. An old and stubby tree, about thirty feet away from my position, (whom I have come to know as Trrüpah) had a long branch that lingered over my head; I reached up and stole from him a few leaves. I used the waxy surface of one to caress my beaming and hairy face. I crushed a few to smell what smelled rather like what a leaf is supposed to smell like; fresh, poignant, and… what you would expect life to smell like. I held the remaining leaf in my palm and pressed it against the flesh covering that vital organ that distributes my blood.
That moment began to tie everything together. It was the climax and turning point in my summer. This feeling I had gained from reading that last sentence allowed me to just “be.” With this newfound ability I felt ready for the complicated falling action that was to come. I attribute the rest of my crazy and fantastic summer to that moment.
I soon understood what more I was meant to do that night; I was to fulfill a childhood fantasy of mine and I was inspired to do it. Feeling so inspired I left my house later that evening to embark on a relatively small “Personal Journey” (as Coelho would call it)- I was home by three in the morning to pick up Voltaire’s Candide.
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