SOL Magazine Issue # 2
January 2009.
With her shiny eyes open wide, she looks at the curly clouds, watching
them whirl in the blue-blue sky. "If only I could rise to be with them",
she longs, "...maybe not forever, maybe only for nine minutes."
Nine…that is her favorite number. Although, of course, she would agree
to sink into those magnificent clouds even if it was just for a single
moment.
She closes her eyes and
stretches her hands to the sky, pulling herself upwards with all her
might… Flight, wind, and a sudden urge, the serenity of faraway heavens,
glitter of the stars, rebellion of the thunder-storm… all of them making
her tremble in deep happiness. A little lizard slips by her bare foot,
interrupting her dreams, and playfully and quickly disappears under a
cover of fresh grass.
What a bliss it is… walking
barefoot on the grass. First, moving carefully, probing every step…then,
getting more confident... feeling safer now… beginning to run, to hop,
to fly.. and finally dismissing the need to look underfoot and not
afraid any more to get hurt. Oh, just running in a dancing gait, singing
an unknown melody, one that just pops into the head or maybe wafted in
with the sounds of some marvelous serenity….
So she flies above the grass,
dancing her wonderful dance, each movement easy and playful …laughing,
she falls into the grass, stretching her hands... and looking into the
sky. Suddenly, the curious little lizard is back, scurrying on her knee,
unafraid. But alas...it has already lost its tail.
"Tail," she thinks..."if I
could only cast away all my old tails that hold me back and down. This
is so simple to cast away the tail and start living a new life, watching
a new-one grow and taking care of that instead!! New life, new emotions,
new Me! What a wonderful world! And it is not as dangerous at all as
they told me!"
"I’ll be a fairy… a little,
light, free and weightless fairy," she decides. "Like this little
curious lizard, I will cast away all unnecessary things that so
frightened me before…yes I'll try to protect myself… but I protected
myself from myself. I'll learn to make friends with myself in a whole
new way," she promises, falling back into the grass.
"Yes, yes, I shall learn to be
like a fairy…"
Enjoying her solitude, she
spins and dances for awhile in the light cloud of grasses, picking up a
clover blossom and pinning it into her golden hair… and then her feet
run off toward the sound of water.
Was this a streamlet or not
quite? A drying pond or not really? A rivulet or not any more? A little
bog or not a bog…or maybe some tired, underground springs? Whatever its
name, her bare feet found it.
There is a lone, timid duck.
"Should I feed it?" she wonders, but mostly she just wants to watch
it...in awe. But the duck does not dare to swim closer although it seems
to long for this stranger's gifts...but prefers to stay hidden in the
rushes, its neck furtively straightened… "Scaredy duck, waiting for
love, afraid to trust, just like me sometimes." The little fairy-girl
smiles a sad smile: "The lizard… the duck...they are just like
me,"...and then, carefully steps back, so as not to disturb the shy
little duck, leaving her there...safe and protected.
Caution, she knows, can be a
great thing. "But cowards are cautious, too and so are heros...,e and
you..." she hums. "What if… what if..?" sounds like an awful song.
"Mushrooms here, mushrooms there, poison or food is everywhere!" These
thoughts make her laugh. Yes, you can get lots in the forest and die.
Too much caution will turn into madness. For one person, even leaving
home is too much and for someone else, "what ifs" are just a big bother.
Lost in her thoughts about "ifs" and "what’s," she never notices living
the forest behind.
It is time to go back to
the “stoney” world, where people do not drop off their old tails but
rather jump about like madmen… trampling on the grasses with their heavy
boots. "Oh, dear...," the little fairy wonders, "is it time to go back
…there?"
Shooosh...her thoughts scatter, like dandelion seeds floating above the
glade, on to the streamlet, wrapped in clover florets and fresh grasses,
buzzing along with a cloud of tiny flies. Her thoughts are here, not on
perfect, multi-colored sidewalk, straight-lined and sharply-edged lawns
with well-groomed, vainglorious flowers sitting proudly in their beds.
Flowers, but none of them to be picked nor pin it in one's hair…
Grey-blue clouds have
gathered since and she is glad to see them. "Rain!! How nice! Rain and
thunder-storms are my friends." She welcomes the storm, loves the cold
wind, trembling with joy deep inside. "Why do people run from it,
grumbling and indignant, hiding under their umbrellas?"
She wants to get wet in
the rain, down to her bare threads. She wants to merge with the clouds
and to shout out at the thunder in reply, to have a good cry together
with that cloud which the wind brought to her and then, suddenly, to go
on further, running, suddenly to realize that she is not afraid...no
more fear - to be scared, to look silly, even to be misunderstood.
"Oh, to be My-Self and to
be different every time, just to Be and to feel happy - just because I
can." And it is so easy to shout out with that thunder-storm...loud and
silly!
"It is GOOD to have a
chat with Life," she thinks. "It is good to feel Life! Everything comes
and everything goes - especially clouds!"
Copyright © Lyudmila Tur and
SOL Magazine, 2009 All rights reserved
|
