Just like I imagined it

Sitting in the hospital dining room, looking down at the floor, wondering what would be the last book my loved one would read. Reading new stories was our hobby, and maybe this would be the last. I wanted it to be the best. I looked for several books, but none were inspiring compared to the ones we've read. I gazed towards the window; perhaps the peaceful sky would honor me with an answer. As I was staring at it, my peripheral sight caught a man dress in black sitting at one of the tables. He seemed to be writing something on the last page of a little notebook. He closed it and placed a sticky note on the front cover. He took a breath, reached his carry-on bag, got up, set the notebook in the center of the table, and left. I was puzzled. I exchanged sights between him walking away and the table. Should I catch up to him to let him know that he forgot his black notebook? I froze.

After a few minutes, my curiosity could stop staring at this little notebook. I stood up from my seat without looking too obvious; I approached the table, pretending to look out the window. I peeked my eyes down and read the note the man had left on top of it. The message read, "To whom it may concern." I turned around to see if anyone was looking, but everyone was doing their own thing. So I sat down and scrolled through the pages. It was handwritten. I took it to the first page, and this is what it said:

"To understand yourself, you only need to know you are like the Silence. It doesn't matter what you do. We are all part of this simple musical collision. Look around you, these are all composers that chose to be musicians to play a role in this life. There is no rush since everything surrounding you does not really exist. The reason I am telling you this is so that you can free yourself from thinking that you only belong to this beautiful Symphony; this way, you can go back to simply being. Play from the heart as you are it. Feel each sound until the last measure. When you let go of this composition, you'll finally fulfill the score in the arms of a new beginning. I imagine it must be the most extraordinary feeling since it is the very last you'll experience.

The moment you leave, you will feel it; it will allow you to open yourself to any possibility. You will return to the center of everything to be able to connect again with that sleeping part in you, the one that tucked you in and kissed your lips with the tip of its index finger, wishing you sweet dreams.

It is a dream. We jumped into the abyss where we can achieve the unexpected. We find ourselves in the core of everything and nothing.

There, is where Silence begins to crochet, interweaving the millions of strings of different thickness and timbre, the wrinkly emptiness wise to be.

Feel each string and pluck it, it will create a particular emotion. All are made with love. "Feeling is the way of thinking."

Sow a new melody in time if you wish. Take a few steps back; you will appreciate the entire piece.

Among the silences of each score you compose, it's always present. The body is only the instrument. Silence lives in you, and you live in it. However, the same might make you feel hollow. So sing if you may, in its pure essence, you will hear again how it created this beautiful Repertoire you listening to. There are plenty more scores, relax. If you look into the eyes of Silence, you might see at first a fearful child with the need to gain more experience. Let yourself free from what you need to play and just play. Get lost in the music.

"I'm in love with you, though you think you must be more than a grain in my dusty silence," it repeatedly says throughout the journey. Listen to its constant singing between your notes. It is the only way you will distinct each sound.

When you hold its hand, your instrument will tremble. You will not be able to think of anything other than hugging and hiding behind it. You will want to contain yourself, but the force of your heart will push you. You will seek to find the truth, and in time again, you will take the initiative to express your piece entering that part written. Know that the most important part will always be the one you sustain in the Here and Now.

When the baton absorbs heaven and earth in its gravity, that's when sound in its perfect balance. The subtle moment the baton caresses its lips. Your lips are the center of its masterpiece. Your beating heart in its presence will consume everything you think you are when you choose to return.

You will wake up. In that instant, you will know that you did not live a reality, but a dream. Your heart will want to beat again and giggle love once more.

Live the romance between the Silence and the sound, when both become one. The entire performance can be seen on each pair of pupils. Though not all have pupils, they do contain a negative and positive aspect. Will be together, always. Each melody carries a world of its own with no end or beginning, only imagination. There is where the truth lies.

By releasing the Orchestra, your composition, and the composer, you will become infatuated with Silence. It will soon disappear, like Silence itself; it will cease to exist, never to know more about it. You will once again fall into that deepness. You will get rid of it to compose for a new instrument in a new section, falling in love like never before, putting a score in motion to play love through its separate parts.

As you become open and ready for anything that comes your way, the voice of the maestro will conduct the echoes. Between your sighs, with nothing to hold, nothing to write, or the desire to do so, the loudest truth will resound: There is no composition. Relax, You are the composition.

There you will understand that everything arises from the Silence, which unconditionally accepts all possible scores without intervening. On the other hand, sound expresses in its hundreds of harmonic aspects, seeking more and more options of itself. Each direction in which it travels creates one more, and in the scores, writes the notes to be played. Its focus is the light at the end, the fruit, but in its polarities, the opposite extreme will seek to reach the other side, creating conflict, resistance, limits.

We live thinking about the Repertoire, about the sounds, continually striving to fill in the Silence in various compositions, retuning and modulating. This is how we feedback the reverberation—a constant evolution.

So there is only one possible answer: return to Silence, where there is no such conflict. And for that, life, the Great Symphony, your instrument, shows it to you in practice, ripping and rewriting what you have created throughout your path until you recognize that only the love for Silence will lead you to understand it. When you fall in love with it, then disappear since you would have placed your sound on it.

Stay calm, then you will understand the answer:

You are the purpose.

The question was never,

Why do I do all this?

The question is,

"Who are you?"

"You are"

Who is the composer?

"You are the composer."

What is my purpose?

"You are the purpose."

What is the meaning of it all?

"You are the meaning of everything."

What is the truth?

"You are the truth."

Why should I have fallen in love?

"Because you are love."

If there is no purpose other than being, then why create new pieces?

That is the purpose. Music in space, the Orchestras members look for bittersweet compositions, great composers, but the greatest is found in the simplest. You cannot transform the Great Symphony from its parts but from playing together. To do this, you must understand what the Great Symphony is.

And what is the Great Symphony?

I believe you know .......

All that exists is a simple perspective of a single reality, a dream, a pulse, and a heartbeat: both beat, one in, one out. Everything is then replicated through the idea of ​​an inner world and an outer one, one in which we discover ourselves while in the other, we find out what we are capable of doing. One is the question, and the other is the answer, and yet both are One. Therefore, all the sounds that we sustain externally are reflected internally to recreate a new score from its integration.

When Silence is divided into its sounds, and the composers spread themselves in all these Orchestras, the Repertoire creates the Great Symphony. But when we get lost in its movements looking for Order again, it must return to our intention, attracting the Orchestras and composers. Sound expands in the form of a sphere, and it contracts towards its origin.

Each score is a fundamental harmonic of it. The Great Symphony is everything that exists and nothing at the same time. Each Orchestral aspect, which makes up the Great Symphony, has expressed itself in infinite possibilities to create its own versions. But as more significant the separation, the more chaos. For this reason, each score must go back and contemplate the center, tune in harmony with the rest: the only way to stop the tension is by not exciting the strings. Thus, the only way to connect the center of each aspect is to return to its origin.

Thanks for being.

Thanks for coming.

End of the writing."

I reached the last page, and a cashier's check fell down the little black notebook. It landed on the floor on its backside. "A new beautiful beginning is coming your way," the check read. I picked it up and flipped it over. It was written for $20,000.

"Just like I imagined it," the last words my loved one gently said, smiling.