SPIRIT WINDS

The desert is dry, caked from the lack of moisture of any kind.  Even the normal desert life is absent in the stillness.  Those that once roamed here leave evidence of their existence..bones bleached white by the sun that is white hot fire in the sky beating down on all that dares to enter this space.  The traveler continues walking..putting one foot in front of the other, his mouth parched with thirst and his skin feeling as if it is on fire.  If only if he could find a patch of shade, a respite from the heat, maybe some water gathered in a crevice somewhere to slack his thirst…but all he sees is the open vista of nothingness, that scene that seems to stretch on forever.  So he keeps walking.  It wasn’t always this way…this aloneness ,out in the middle of nowhere.  Once he had things..tangible things that he called his own..He isn’t sure how they all managed to slip through his fingers into nothingness.  So he finds himself here, in the barren wasteland, walking for an eternity it seems.  After what seemed like days, but might have been only hours, the traveler soon reaches an oasis of sorts…a small patch of green in the brown, cracked, earth.  it’s not much to look at really, a few scrub cactus, brown desert grass, their parched fronds, waving feebly in the stirring of air created by the traveler himself.  But it is a small modicum of shade..a respite from the harsh sun searing his brain.  So the traveler sits down..grateful for the rest…He leans back on a rock under the tall cactus that throws its shadow like tossing its hat into a ring, thinking that he will perhaps rest a moment, close his eyes…. disappear.  “Feeling sorry for yourself are you”? says a voice coming from above him. Eyes wide open now the traveler looks around to see who said that since he has seen no one  since he began this tedious journey.  All he see is a great black bird sitting in the cactus.  “I am hallucinating” he thinks to himself…sighing heavily, he again closes his eyes.  “So, tell me”, again speaks the voice,”why are you here”? Once again the eyes of the traveler opens and again he sees there is nobody but the bird.  “I am losing my mind” he chuckles self-consciously.  As he beings to prepare to close his eyes yet again..the bird speaks.  “Did you not understand the question” he asks?  “You speak english, yes?””I have gone too long without food and water” says the traveler…”birds cannot speak”.  “And who spoke that?” asked the bird.  Shaking his head slowly, the traveler looks at the bird warily.  “You really speak”? he asked.  “Apparently since you seem to be comprehending my words”, said the bird.  The traveler sits up and wraps his lanky arms around his bent knees.  “So what did you ask” he asks the bird.  “I asked you why you were feeling sorry for yourself when you are here by choice”, said the bird.  The traveler nods wearily..”It’s true”, he said.  “I was doing well when I thought that things could be better if I went another direction…I was wrong”, he sighed.  “Clearly” said the bird.  “Did you show up to bring that to my attention” asked the traveler sarcastically…”or was there another purpose for this visit”?  The bird chuckles..”still have spirit I see”, he laughs…”that’s good..you’ll need it”.  “I don’t know why”, says the traveler…”I’m stuck out here in the middle of a wasteland, nothing to see or do, no clue why I would need anything”.  The great bird looks at the traveler for what seems hours, but was just moments in time, then speaks slowly as if to a child, “You create your time.  Whether it’s spent chasing reality, or wandering off in dreams…it is all created by you.  Sometimes there are moments that make you hold your breath, either from fear or because they are so magical that to breath seems to break the spell.  You create it all.  You manipulate your environment, changing the scenery within every moment.  It is your here and now.”.  The traveler sat silent looking at this bird marveling at the wisdom that had been spoken and then he realized, that yes he had created this desolate place, this nothingness that had no beauty, no place to slack his thirst in his quest for living.  It was all his creation.  So how to change this, he wondered. As if reading his thoughts, the bird begins to speak again.  “To change one’s reality, one must be ready to change their perspective.  Not everything is absolute nor carved in stone.  Life isn’t black and white..there are varying shades of grays as well as the other colors that resonate as yours as you weave it into existence.  It is up to you to find something that is yours..that speaks to you..whatever that may be in your life, whatever path.  Changing direction in mid stream often overturns the boat, and if one is still carrying stones in your pockets you will drown”.  “Or ends up in a no man’s land” says the traveler speaking his thoughts aloud.  “Yes”, agrees the bird.  “So what are you going to do about it?” the bird asks.  “I think”, begins the traveler”that I am going to begin where I started changing direction and rethink an alternate route”.  As if by magic, the scenery began to change.  The once scabbed piece of shade began to transform into a true oasis, with lush greenery, running water.  The traveler marveled at the change, as he glanced at the bird.  “I did tell you that the reality was yours” said the bird.  The traveler who had been wandering for eternity it seemed, jumped into the small pool, putting his face under the running water as it cascaded over the rocks.  he drank his fill then stood letting the water wash over him, washing away the dust, the pain, the emptiness, filling him yet again with renewed purpose.  When he finally felt refreshed, made whole, he walked out of the pool and sat down on the bank.  “Thanks bird”, he began but as he looked around, there was nothing there but him.  Thinking about the conversation, the traveler began to think he had made it all up.  yet here he was, wet, sitting on the greenest, purest place on earth he had ever experienced.  As he looked around again, he spied next to a tree where once a cactus had been, a feather, the blackest, shiniest one he had ever seen.  The traveler smiled.  “Many thanks bird…I won’t forget the lesson”.  With that, the traveler turned and continued on his way, renewed and filled with true purpose.