“So…..it seems to me that there are forces of darkness and evil, always busy, always creeping over, much like the world map they show you in flight , with the curve of the day and night and the little dotted flight path. The forces of darkness are always trying to tip the balance and unlike the inevitability of the rotation of the earth, the forces of light cannot depend on tomorrow when they will prevail.
We need to work at it every day. In small ways which may not even seem to be……mmm like a ‘warrior of light’ but simply vanilla. Boring vanilla. Just a person who follows certain rules, maybe has good manners, honesty, does not throw litter, does not cheat on taxes. Maybe that is all it takes to keep the darkness at bay in small ways?
But of course there will be times when the battle lines are more obvious. When it is not enough just to not break the rules of decency. When it is important, even critical, to step up and call out those who are breaking them. To speak out against injustice. To stand up for what you believe in. To create an army simply by stepping up and thus giving courage to the rest to follow you.
And then maybe the forces of darkness fade into a sort of grey. At least for a while. And then life would have been worth living…..
What do you think ?” she said.
He held her hand and smiled at her. Right into her. There was no need for words. But he said them anyway. I love you. Why won’t you let us move in together? We could talk like this all day, all evening, into the night. And then when we wake up the next day, we can do it all over again. And she saw in his eyes a reflection of an entire life well lived. Not quite walking into the sunset but sitting aside by side and enjoying it in each others company.
She sighed. The baggage of our bodily existence ……maybe these conversations will soon become all about what shall we make for dinner. Is it your turn to do the groceries…..
I am afraid of that. Talking with you like this is like a kite flying on the high winds, under the beautiful sun and the silver moon. Would moving in together tie a stone to this string….will we fly so free ?
He looked at her with such sorrow in his eyes but a smile on his lips. Of course. She had forgotten again. He had been given two weeks to live. But he had no regrets. He was already 90 years old. She was almost 80. Advanced Alzheimer’s they had said. Her brain had frayed to a gossamer they told him. It astounded him that she still had so much left in her. What would she have been like before this?
He had resented being moved to an old age home but then his son was also 65 now, retired. He had been there for a year when she was brought in by her daughter. The first time he saw her, he knew. He had been moving towards her his whole life. She had smiled at him that first day and said— if all of existence is a dream, when the sleeper awakens, will he or she still remember us? When she sleeps again, will the same dream continue as it sometimes does for us? When we die where do we go? Do we remember our thoughts? Can we move on to new levels like in a game ? Or do we have to re start?
He still didn’t know the answer. But in two weeks or less, he was about to find out.