The Greatest Mission!

It was the beginning of a new world, when two boats mysteriously floated towards each other. From the furthest point at the horizon, one noticed, in the distance, a small shadow which slowly became a boat. His raised sails blew in the wind, and that’s how I made it out alive. Our body and mind were to start the greatest adventure.

Although, I may have been in a parallel universe when he saw me, possibly in a world somewhere, where the sun is a gigantic golden egg, there I was, sailing in the eye of the perfect storm, when, it lit me. Waves as high and deep as one could fear. My heart went upside down, then inside out. Walls of water were rising, surrounding me, vividly skyrocketing from the sea. I was bound to get drowned in this newborn city of sky scraped waves. I wanted to look, but my eyes were burnt from the harsh mixture of the wind and the salt spray. I wanted to scream: “I know I’m nothing, but a puppet!” Although, who would hear me through all this chaos? The water was hitting me from all directions. My body was being thrown, scratched by the vessel of my own creation. If I could have painted that scene from the colors of my feelings, I would have mixed the red of my blood with the dark grey of the sea. In all the turmoil, I couldn’t tell if true North was leading me to the sky, because maybe the far West would bring me to heaven. I aimed for the South sail, although at that second, I might have been heading down towards the center of the earth already.

All of a sudden, overpowering the loud noise from the wind and the crashing waters, I heard a huge cracking sound, so loud that my mind pictured an island’s ground shaking from an erupting volcano, as if it were right next to me. If this is where this storm had lead me, then, I was ready to be burned alive. My soul surrendered my body. It was all bound to happen.

The time had come for the cracking of the divine egg to unveil its long sought mysteries. From over there it came. The sun peeked through the clouds, and it shone directly upon me. Then I thought perhaps I should be ashamed, to have confused the idea of lava and burnt flesh, with the energies of the egg, the sun, summoning the birth of fresh life.

The sun was so bright that I couldn’t see a thing. I was completely blinded by the light, when, I realized the boat was barely moving now. Although I could still hear the water moving very loudly, it took a whole different form. It was presently pouring down, forming two walls on each side of me, like some neverending waterfalls. Droplets were dripping on me, as if fine delicate dew was caressing my skin.

I couldn’t see anymore, if it was the sky falling upon the earth, but clearly I was; I saw the sky touching the sea. The waters separated, splitting the ocean in half, thus creating a new horizon. There I stood on the starboard bow, staring off into gold and pink. For a second, the thought occurred to me, that if I go, I might be entering my own heaven, perhaps I am dead already, and the sea is beckoning me abode. How could I escape this impending death? The solution was so simple. I could just silently take afloat in the opposite direction, for the storm is gone, and behind me, the waves are pleasantly choppy, almost soothing.

The boat moved abruptly as it stabilized on the rocky seabed. I’m at the bottom of the ocean?! To my great surprise, I see the water sinuating along the rocks and the corals, cresting its way through the ocean floor. The water is running out! If I turn around and escape, will the water just continue to drain away? Will the ocean vanish astray? It felt like the protection of the ocean may be resting upon my sole decision. Without a second to lose, I stepped into the valley of waterfalls, darting from rock to rock towards the fading pink horizon. Then, the idea of the water closing up on me came rushing in my head. I got really scared. I declared: “Make of me the great pink pearl of the sea, for you are my shell and I do not fear!” By the time I finished my sentence, the water quickly started filling back up the crevices between the rocks, and the next moment, my feet were almost walking on water. I peeked down, for immediately after, the ground felt strangely steady. How can I be walking on snow? I could see the prints of my footsteps behind me. They shall be the evidence which demonstrate my faith in realities to be held. I only turned my head back forward, that at my great surprise, right here at my reach, another small sailboat revealed itself; exactly identical as mine.

It happened in assured expectation of things hoped for. I call it the cloning of the boat. An instant before, I was in the other one, and an instant after, it got swallowed by the giant mouth of the great big sea. I managed to cross, and nobody would ever notice, for the snow had melted instantly, leaving no footprint behind. I will forever cherish when we first met on the sea, we cheered: “To the creation of a stronger bond!”

As my very best friend read these words, the memory of that moment resurfaced. He reminisce the view from his boat: “Waves as far the eye may perceive, although not as rough as they may become during the largest of tropical storms. They’re pleasantly choppy, almost soothing. I stood on the starboard bow, staring off into gold and pink horizon. There I spot another small sailboat cresting the furthest visible point in the distance.”

I wish I had better words to say, for the message to be heard, or a better voice to speak it out, but when the voice is to be found behind the words, the message can also be heard through images, movement, dances and laughter.

Sometimes I thought I would never find my island. I barely had any more joy left in my heart and I probably pity on myself. Oh, but I found so many insights on the way! My island, I named after myself. I say it’s mine because I mostly live here. I have visitors too, and I like to think they feel at home when they’re here. The weather is nice. The air is salty. I’m wearing my sunglasses, and whenever I lift up my gaze to peek at the sky, the blue curtain shows up in shades of greys, and it looks as though it’s half way closer to me than it was ever before. I’m sitting on the sandy shore and I hear both; little waves unrolling to my right, and from behind, I hear the music playing, and my ears can both, feel and hear the wind when it blows. At times, it adds up a sharp sound, when the pages from my book rise in the air to dance a few seconds, before they lay back down in proper order.

Look. When I place them like this, they form the story of a very cool puzzle. Yesterday, I finished designing it. I didn’t count the number of pieces it has, for it’s irrelevant because it’s more about the pieces themselves, their shapes, and the way they connect together.

Surely, it says that when the time comes, I’ll leave again someday for some epic adventures. An explorer must, since the title was obtained, always stand willing, ready, and looking forward to tomorrow, forward to float like a lost buoy on the ocean. I have learned to trust the wind; we became allies as we fought for the waters.

I had a dream last night, and I entered it. And since I never woke up, in case you’re wondering why I’m writing, well I just wanted to say that I fixed everything on the boat. It’s good to go. That’s the first thing I did when I got here, on this island. Because I thought it should be ready for whenever the moment shall be The Moment to go again. The wind will tell me. I’ll wake up one morning with only what I need to pack, and I’ll be good to go.

And if we both feel like going together, then we could live the adventure by actions that match it so perfectly. This is how we planned to call it: Per-Fect-Ly. We’ll mix our footsteps together. We will leave no trace behind, for they’ll merge with the ocean and the sea, and the wind shall continue to push the clouds for the sun to shine.

It’s the day after tomorrow. That moment had already come. Now the wind is fading to quietly welcome the morning rise over the still waters. We raise our sights to the sky to let our soul light. Amen. All our friends rejoice and take to their boats. There are islands, unknown and unowned by anyone and everyone. Like a star lit explorer, anything and everything could potentially become part of the greatest art form ever and forever made.

Hand in hand, we shall arrive to that place where the wind blows a little less loud, and then, we’ll reign over the sweetest hilltop amongst the flowers and long herbs; and we’ll let our spirit dance.