The Awakening

“First, you’ll forget everything, you’ll be a hollow shell, but your spirit? Your spirit is free.

There’s an empty black space, with shooting stars racing past. You’ll want to follow them, do it, go. Follow them, all from the comfort of your own bed. The softest cushions surround you, fluffy, white as anything and as you fall back, they’ll cushion you. A welcoming, warm, comforting embrace. Trust yourself to fall. Wave at the stars and bright lights, they look so clear with nothing but emptiness in between.”

This part always gives me such a rush, a break from a hectic day, I’m in a place where nobody knows. Wind rushes through my hair and past my ears, the sharp blasts of cold hit me and I open my eyes, unaware they were even closed. I land in a street and grind to a halt, there’s a strange screeching sound which I quickly realise is the bed frame scraping the concrete. As my eyes begin to refocus, a busy little street, filled with neon signs, shows itself, guiding me to look into its windows. Before there’s even a chance to do that, I’m overcome with a sense of familiarity. I’ve been here before, I can’t remember when or why or how, but I have. And so have you, so have we all. I was wrong, everyone has been here, or will come here, at some point in time. Sweet sugary delights tickle my nose and like a bloodhound, I find myself locking onto the scent.

As I walk along this narrow street for what seems an age, I am confronted with a wide window, stacked high, low, left and right with freshly baked doughnuts of every colour, flavour and combination you could picture. I stand in awe of this beautiful display, the tasty little treats dancing in front of me. As I go to grab one, I’m swept up and discover I'm now standing on a bridge. Looking down, I notice there’s water below, I glance up to see I’m stood over a canal. I look at myself in the water, wondering how long I’ll be gone this time. Deep down I know the answer, and I know what I have to do. I allow myself to listen to the tiny movements of the water, the small ripples sweep over my brain and allow clarity and peace as you have never been able to experience.

My big puffa jacket encases me and I feel like a toasty burrito, I can’t help but feel at peace. I’m secure, stable even, in body and mind. There are bridges ahead and bridges behind, all delicately decorated with fairy lights. The reflection of them prances along the skin of the water, entranced by their performance, I sink to my knees. It is my time. I speak of my truths, the deepest truths hidden, the one’s buried in the darkest part of one’s soul. As each light passes, I whisper my truths, my secrets, my lies, setting them free. They seem to disappear, but you can feel them around your soul, lifting you up as you grow, reminding you of who you were, who you are and what you are to become.

There’s a change in the movement of the water, and I sense I’m not alone. I’m locked in place, kneeling on the cold, cobbled bridge. I didn’t think my time would come to such an abrupt end, but here I am. And so, to you I say, do not follow the light, but explore the darkness.