A leap of faith

I have been wondering and wandering, looking and finding, listening and watching in readiness for this moment. I have read of horrors, fact and fiction. I have witnessed tenderness, humour, integrity, generosity, care and the irrepressible resilience of the human spirit. I have ‘lingered in the chambers of the sea’ in an effort to observe without being noticed. I have eased myself in and felt comfortable, paddled my canoe, dipped my hands in the water, swayed bull-rushes and brushed aside the milk white petals of giant lilies floating and drifting.

                 Time has passed quickly, demands….not made; my pace has been leisurely, indeed I would have to admit to a degree of sauntering soft-shoe shuffle. There hasn’t been so much as a word of reproof for this casual loitering, I have been indulged. Daily digests have appeared and disappeared, comments here, suggestions there, skimmed or ignored, not my bag - I  simply carried on browsing. Lovely jubilee, easy peasy having a good time, having a ball, pass me the quiche, until, suddenly, bang - the ball burst!
              

                    There was a loud, no, a crashing sound and I juddered to a halt. My brain went into overdrive. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No. No. Oh, nothing so fabulous. It was some woman, sprite, Lady of the Manor, top boss personage who singled me out, rooted me with a steely gaze and said, ” Time to give something back darling, your free loading days are well and truly over.”

                                  My dear reader, it came as rather a shock. I felt ….indignant. I stood there doing the teapot, stared back, gave her the look and asked her what she was playing at, turning up at my party, uninvited, with all the tact of a sonic boom. My look was returned with interest and she said it again, ” It’s pay day sweetheart, you have an outstanding debt, you are in the red, in short - you owe.” Well, as you can imagine, that required the double teapot and I planted my feet firmly to launch an attack. ” I owe?” “I owe.” ” I owe.  What, who, how? This is a freebie, on the firm, part of a deal. I don’t owe a penny so take your odd glowing witchy hat shaped handbag thing and boom in on some other poor, unsuspecting innocent. OK, you got that lady, take a hike. I owe nothing and no one. Ugghh.”

          I turned to walk away, as one does when people barge in with outrageous and fictitious demands, only to find that I could not move. My limbs were frozen rigid and probably made me look a little too much like that tin man, ‘I need a heart and a can of oil’ dude from ‘The Wizard of Oz’. In the meantime the intruder, who had an uncanny knack of melting into the background and wore what can only be described as a kaleidoscopic number, still favoured by ‘arts, crafts and fans of Cat Stevens’ hippy cloak, stepped a little closer and whispered, ”You owe me.”

      I did not know what to say but thought under the circumstances silence had to be golden. I was there, glued to the spot and she seemed to be in no hurry so I kept it zipped. I half wondered if she’d been stalking me because she suddenly looked familiar but I was tired, confused, and assumed I must be hallucinating. Do you know what was really strange though, incredibly and bizarrely strange? I was never frightened. Not once, zero, zilch.

            We seemed to be in some kind of bubble that set us apart from the other guests ( they must have fully paid up ) because I knew they were all going about their business as though we weren’t there:I felt tempted to ask her if she’d made us invisible but refrained and made a mental note to seek therapy at the earliest opportunity. Finally, she turned her full attention back to me and told me what was going to happen and where we were going. We. Not her or me - we; I had no say in the matter. I was extraordinarily relaxed for a person whose life had been commandeered without warning so I tuned in and listened carefully. She began.

“I have had my eye on you for some time now; you have helped yourself to the goodies available which was fine but you must learn to give and for that you need tuition. You are extremely fortunate because I have placed you in the midst of forgiving and kind-hearted people. They will lend a hand but you must pull your weight, give of yourself and accept the truth. This is a journey that must be travelled with good grace and determination. There will be many new roads to walk down and you will have to answer to your companions and me for choices made which are based in any way on selfishness, for your own gratification. Success will make you eligible for entry into the first level of Divine Gardens because you will have felt, at the very core of your being, what it is that giving, unobtrusively, without fuss or recognition, brings to the soul. Do you understand?”

          Reader, I nodded my head, which was quite a relief because it meant she had returned the gift of movement, and told her that I had known for a long time this task had been waiting for me. I looked at her again and knew that I was just one of thousands in her destiny; as she had waited for everyone else so too had she been waiting for me.

        I must have been in a dream state or one hundred percent asleep because I woke up and realised that we had come through a huge and exquisitely carved oak and rosewood door. I was surrounded by flowers of every possible shade and at my side, on a plain white tray, there was elderflower tea and cinnamon toast. I was still bemused and dazed; please don’t think for a second that what took place was anything less than bewildering, but it was not scary. Everything that had happened was undoubtedly akin to white water rafting without the actual raft but I felt at peace with myself and was happy to sit there alone and quiet with my tea and toast.
In keeping with ‘the spirit’ of my quest I decided to look for a place to wash the cup and saucer. I had heard what sounded like the spluttering gurgle of a stream and set out to find it. I hadn’t walked far when she appeared, as if from nowhere. She smiled, I stared and, as one of us had to speak first before it got embarrassing, I heard myself say, ” le Enchanteur….hello.”

Jan