27 July 2013

The Quest to Rise

He looked over at her and froze, an animal trapped in the brilliance of her gaze. The world split in two, the high and the low, spiritual and physical. Frightened, he turned away.

But he would return many times in his memory to the blank, angelic face that had so briefly lifted him. He would expend much time and energy in search of, not her exactly (though if only . . .), but of that higher plane she'd revealed to him, the place where love flowed freely between beings. He liked to think he existed in that place; he even made himself believe it, that he was above in some way. But at the core of him was the fear, the place where the physical world intruded on his ability to rise. He was a coward at heart.

Because in order to live on that plane, he was required to open himself. The love could only flow freely if he put up no defense.

To be shown something lovely and have it disappear is life's greatest sorrow. The retracing of steps, the reaching for that grail, is life's greatest purpose.

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