The Visit
9am, the air stuffy with heat. The sun beating down on the asphalt and the AC barely able to keep the air inside the car bearable. My t-shirt damp with perspiration while the driver tries to negotiate the traffic. I will have to leave this haven of comfort soon and join the throngs that are making there way across the path that leads to our destination. The hot dry dusty air meets me as I step out of the vehicle, quite unusual for a coastal city
The pathway, a slab of concrete and rock, is only accessible at low tide. It is wet from the ocean that has barely receded and slippery from the algae that has attempted to lay claim to its rough surface. The limbless, the destitute, the homeless, anyone in need line the edges of the pathway, sitting or laying down, extending their hands or a cup or a piece of cloth in the hope of receiving some alms.
Looking on I think these are the fortunate, and unlike me, they are in need of the material, a need that can more easily fulfilled. For those like me it is more difficult. How does one fill the spiritual void, that emptiness that lies between the heart and the soul. How does one fill that which you cannot see which is hidden as if by a veil. The knowledge just out of reach of the mortal self. The yearning propels my being energising every step, hoping...hoping that at the end of the pathway lies the answer, the key to filling the void, that which has been veiled in secrecy.
A slight rise leading to the marble steps. Climbing up to meet the gates, nestled in the large courtyard the place of my destination. Through the pillared entrance to the place of gathering where the devout lay down their shrouds, strew flowers and make offerings in the hope that there pleading will be heard, that their wishes be made real.
Standing to the side I am overwhelmed by the sacredness of the place. Peace descends over me, a calmness that seems to penetrate my very being nay my soul. The whisperings of hope and the solace of being in the company of the holy touches me. I raise my hands in a humble offering of prayer to a Lord Most Merciful baring my soul.
With a renewed sense of being and a hopeful step, I walk through the pillared entrance, down the steps and past those in need. A sense of elation and gratitude fills my being overwhelming the void. I am in awe! My gratitude extends beyond the realm of reality and the tangible into the void, beyond the void. I am at peace.
I will return, I decide, not because of the returning void, but in spite of it. To remind myself what it was like living with the void, veiled and hidden not knowing how to fill it ;-)
The pathway, a slab of concrete and rock, is only accessible at low tide. It is wet from the ocean that has barely receded and slippery from the algae that has attempted to lay claim to its rough surface. The limbless, the destitute, the homeless, anyone in need line the edges of the pathway, sitting or laying down, extending their hands or a cup or a piece of cloth in the hope of receiving some alms.
Looking on I think these are the fortunate, and unlike me, they are in need of the material, a need that can more easily fulfilled. For those like me it is more difficult. How does one fill the spiritual void, that emptiness that lies between the heart and the soul. How does one fill that which you cannot see which is hidden as if by a veil. The knowledge just out of reach of the mortal self. The yearning propels my being energising every step, hoping...hoping that at the end of the pathway lies the answer, the key to filling the void, that which has been veiled in secrecy.
A slight rise leading to the marble steps. Climbing up to meet the gates, nestled in the large courtyard the place of my destination. Through the pillared entrance to the place of gathering where the devout lay down their shrouds, strew flowers and make offerings in the hope that there pleading will be heard, that their wishes be made real.
Standing to the side I am overwhelmed by the sacredness of the place. Peace descends over me, a calmness that seems to penetrate my very being nay my soul. The whisperings of hope and the solace of being in the company of the holy touches me. I raise my hands in a humble offering of prayer to a Lord Most Merciful baring my soul.
With a renewed sense of being and a hopeful step, I walk through the pillared entrance, down the steps and past those in need. A sense of elation and gratitude fills my being overwhelming the void. I am in awe! My gratitude extends beyond the realm of reality and the tangible into the void, beyond the void. I am at peace.
I will return, I decide, not because of the returning void, but in spite of it. To remind myself what it was like living with the void, veiled and hidden not knowing how to fill it ;-)
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