The Common Blackbird

Dear Kylie,

 

I hope this letter finds you well. I rubbed my face with water before removing the make-up on my eyes -again-. A Halloween costume in mere seconds, behold.

 

When I thought of you in the past, I used to think of fear as well. Of blues and bitterness and pebbles by the sea. But I am trying not to suffocate on anxious doubts and conversations that will never occur; one baby step at a time.

 

As a child, I remember vaguely being told the story of Beginnings from Nothingness; Allah could have created a million more Earths and suns had he willed. No amount of creation could have exhausted Him.

 

Six days of 'let there be light' would seem like a snap of a finger to an All-powerful God; but he spoke of Earth as if it were His only child, one which He had slowly watched as it grew and learned; the planets and suns he hung in heavens like lanterns and of seeds that break open and shoot in lush greens and sweet flowers from the rain-kissed mud.

 

An unforgettable friend of mine once told me that change and growth happen gradually. If they were to rush and wash over us overnight, our minds would not grasp the suddenness and we would go insane.

 

That is why I will take my time as I tell you: I'm afraid of you, Kylie; afraid of what you might say if you ever travel back in time and coincidentally pass by my letters. I'm afraid of many other things too, just so you don't burden yourself with the blame of being my only source of distress; I fear leaving my home and family and I'm terrified by the idea of not leaving at all. I fear making friends with my Heart like the book advised me to and end up staring at a wall beyond which exists nothing impressive. 

 

"My heart is a traitor," the boy said to the Alchemist, "It doesn't want me to go on." (1)

 

I know this letter has been pessimistic from the start, but I would still want you to know what chains me in the dark and holds me back as equally as I want you to know about my passions and dreams that compete with the heights of mountains.

 

Kylie, I'm afraid of falling asleep to see the other side of my mind. I'm afraid of dying and living again only to find that you do not remember me, or worse: find that you do remember me. I'm afraid of becoming wise and old. I'm afraid of becoming one that teaches others how to heal, forgetting to learn it for myself in the process!

 

I'm afraid of the emergence of the False Messiah. I'm afraid of wedding songs and vanilla cake and poodles.

 

I'm afraid of the child and more so of the grown-up, of the friends that left me behind and more so of the ones that say they would not leave me.

 

I'm afraid of having been slain as a dragon in a past life. This could possibly explain why I cried over the lizard my mother killed with a slipper years ago. And the other lizard I accidentally killed while trying to find it behind the box on the kitchen shelf. I know that lizards aren't dragons, but I'd like to think they're distant cousin cousin…cousins.

 

I'm afraid of travelling the world and returning home with no stories to tell except of: Evil, barbaric tribes or uncaring citizens.

 

I'm afraid of the continuous dying out of bees, of the melting ice-caps and of world wars three and four.

 

I'm afraid of being alone and unimaginably afraid of journeying through life with a partner.

 

I'm afraid of envy and black magic and unanswered prayers.

 

And I'm very, very afraid of waking up one morning to hear all the sounds of the birds take turns in our garden except the song of the sweet blackbird. This reminds me of earlier today, during my lunch break; I watched one slightly hop on the side of the road in between the small houses. He glanced at me from afar and flew away and he was as silent as the trees.

 

Although it begins to slow down and rationalize, my aforementioned storm of fears whenever I remember my younger self around eighteen years ago… When I was first introduced to the concept of passing away, I would imagine my small body immobile, cradled by the dark of my eyelids. And the longer and harder I tried to see how 'dead' I would be, simply not there or anywhere, the more naturally my child-mind refused to believe it. "It doesn't make any sense," I'd think to myself, "I would still be here, where else would I be? I would be here…among all those who loved me, in a different body."

 

At that time, Kylie, the rave and lifestyle of the New Age folks hadn't reached us yet.  But still I was able to see through the lies of our misinterpreted dogmas; there was no death. We carry within us dusts of everything and a breath from everyone.

 

It eases my all my monstrously colossal fears in ways only the heart can understand, my friend, whenever I picture an infinity of light and dark smiling motherly at an insignificantly small planet such as ours.

 

"When we look up at the stars, the Universe stares back at us." (2)

 

I know that you're hurting over unanswered questions, Kylie. Please, remember whenever you feel like you've been foolish, you are actually a source of inspiration to me. I'm jealous of your choices when it comes to loving someone. No one is immune to fear, I have begun to realize. Still, you stand before yourself as you shake and tremble saying: I choose to be soft and vulnerable, this is my heart.

 

Time fails to hold any importance as your light shines and it blinds me!

Sincerely,

 

~ Rain.

Author's Note

(1): The Alchemist in this part of the book teaches the boy how to follow his heart in order to understand the Soul of the World and find his hidden treasure. -The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho.

(2): Dillon Ross was my friend and spiritual guide whom I loved and trusted very much. He stood by me in my good times and in my self-doubt and confusions. He was a brilliant philosopher, always thirsty for more knowledge and enlightenment. He was the one who said some of the words quoted in this letter and they stuck in my head ever since. God bless his road, wherever he may go.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is the height of imaginative, mystical, emotional writing. I've never seen the heart poured out quite like this! I am in awe of your writing, but even more so, of your emotional landscape! I never even think this stuff, altho I loved being taken on a journey thru some intense pondering. I used to ponder this intensely when I was young, but never this artistically. I've read a bunch of spiritual stuff from all different religions, dogmas, new age or psychic whatevers, & I've never heard ANY of this . . . this is 100% original sounding to me. I read The Alchemist twice & I struggled to grasp the deeper meanings. Your writing is much more clear & packed with palpable earnestness (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Barbara Walker]

Absolutely beautiful. I love your choice of words. This makes my fears more acceptable to me. We all have them, don't we? I'd love to read more.

[StarNinja]

Incredible. I've got to say, what a comeback, Rain. You touch on a lot of things in this letter, but the fears we all fear is something I think a lot of us forget. We revere heroes but forget they're afraid just like us and really it's not so bad to be afraid of things. That's how our ancestors stayed alive and what not! Keep up the good work!

[Coyote Poetry]

I'm enjoying the story. The letter form make the story feel personal. I like the honest tone and the topics shared in the letter. This story had great possibilities. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter. If you write more. Please send me read requests. Thank you for sharing the outstanding chapter.
Coyote