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The small black notebook

And a triple mirror

By Anastasia FazalPublished 3 years ago 5 min read
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The small black book fell on the floor and disappeared. I couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere - under that ridiculous plush couch that converts into impossible-to-sleep-on bed. I looked under a desk that my son covered with a blue masking tape (long story). I looked under a rebounder (our neighbor downstairs has patience of a saint). “Well…” I exhaled, “it seems to be gone. But where on Earth did it go?”

When little Ana opened her eyes, she didn’t want to wake up. She heard her parents were fighting again. She covered her ears with a pillow stuffed with goose feathers. The tips of the feathers would come out of fabric and poke her nose. All she wanted on this Sunday is to leave the house and get to her bike. She moved in her bed and felt a book under a blanket. She was sure she put her book back on a shelf before she went to sleep. Ana digged under the blanket and took out a book she’s never seen before. It was black and felt very good to hold in hands. Feeling of strange familiarity came over her. Puzzled, she opened the book. “Oh my…” was all that she could say.

Little Ana was riding shiny red Kama with the speed of the wind. It was one of the coolest bikes in the Soviet Union at that time. She was waiting for it for so long and now she truly was in love with it. She immersed herself in the experience fully. Sunkissed, face covered with joyful speckles, she let the wind run through her wavy chestnut hair. She felt all encompassing warmth just by thinking about her magical find. It was almost hard to believe. Yet, she chose to believe it. After all, she was 9 and felt confident in her ability to manifest. She kept the book in her backpack until she got to her secret place.

Once there, in the middle of a pine forest, she dropped her bike on the ground and sat on a soft cushion of dry pine needles. Her lungs were filled with fresh countryside air and she felt excited to go through the pages of the notebook.

She opened it, almost breathless, and the stories, written and sketched on the pages of the small black notebook came alive. She saw a boy, running with a rainbow in his hand, birds flying in the flocks together. There were elephants and jaguars, mermaids and spirits of the forest. The drawings came off the pages, dancing, singing, taking little Ana in that same wonderland that she imagined every night before going to bed. She saw HER visions and HER dreams clearly, vividly, she was in them, swirling with those mermaids.

At the very last page there was a drawing of a pile of cash and “$20000” written on it. Little Ana wondered what that could mean as she was falling asleep surrounded by her own fantasies that came true.

My son and I got busy with soldering and completing circuits and for some time I haven’t thought about the small black notebook. In the evening, after he drifted into his delightful dreamland, I went to a bathroom and stood in front of a triple mirror. I folded it and kept my face in between two of them while I was looking at the middle mirror. I was witnessing infinity. My face was reflecting in the reflections of the reflections.

I got chills down my spine. I KNEW she was doing exactly the same, at exactly the same moment. I also knew that SHE got the book and was smiling now looking at the reflections of the reflections of the reflections.

Little Ana folded the mirror. She smiled at the infinity she was witnessing. She KNEW the I was doing exactly the same, at exactly the same moment. She said, “I know that you got it. I know that you’ll take me out of it, I believe that we’ll go on and achieve all that we ever dreamed of. I won’t stop creating, I got your message. I will persevere and keep believing in myself. For I know that one day I’ll be far from here and I’ll be creating freely. Thank you, grown up Ana, I love you. I know what you wanted to tell me - my gifts are my abundance. My treasure is what I’m passionate about. My way of connecting to that source is to keep filling up this small black notebook”.

I poured myself freshly made pineapple juice. I stood on a balcony bare feet and looked at the rising spring sun. Mountain air was crisp at that time but the day promised to be warm and beautiful. I went inside, my son was still sleeping. I opened a laptop, opened my bank’s application and saw the deposit of $20000 was made last evening. I smiled, I felt hot tears on my cheeks, I came to the fridge and saw two pictures - of myself and of my little self. I purposely put them together so I could always remember where I came from. So I could always be thankful for my blessings. So I could cherish that morning in May 10 years ago when I lended to JFK airport, with $200 dollars in my pocket and 5 credit cards to back my escape up. I knew I would keep creating. I knew nothing would stop me. And I meant nothing - no exhausting restaurant jobs, where a bunch of strangers in a kitchen were calling me “flaca” any time I would pass by with a tray of dishes to be handed to a dishwasher person. No pigeons coming through the hole in a roof or rats under my bed at my very first room on Avenue A in Brooklyn. Every day, I would pull the small black notebook out of my pocket and would fill the pages with my wildest dreams, with the stories most amazing. All was possible on those pages.

I knew that at some point the small black notebook got into hands of a publisher and the contract was signed. That deposit of $20000 was the first one of many more deposits to come.

Together, little Ana and I went on to create even more. We build an art school for all, where we could inspire children and adults alike to follow their heart and express themselves fully on pages of THEIR small black notebooks. We bought a land and planted beautiful organic garden where all could come and have food. We never forgot our small black notebook and our connection through years, time, space, countries and the triple mirrors.

For there was nothing impossible for the Universe. For the Universe kept creating though the hands of those who dared to play in their small black notebooks.

success
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