A Change of Seasons

For you, my soul: 

My mind is a concoction of thoughts and emotions that I often find myself daydreaming about. It could be nostalgia of a past memory or some place in my mind I would rather be lost in. I never shut off. Sometimes, my skin and bones become so permeated, I overwhelm myself with these reflections, and they weigh so heavy that I’m being pulled into the ground, unsure if I’ll be able to pull myself out. Then the strangest thing happens – so abruptly, everything stops. My mind is pulled into a black hole, almost magnetically, and I hear nothing, but ticking. Almost as if the universe turned on a stopwatch, and I only have so much time to figure out how to get myself out of whatever world I’m in that is ripping me apart. Treading lightly ultimately becomes a race against myself to get out. 

To escape these perplex delusions, I close my eyes – it is the only way I can make sense of anything. It is the only way I can feel. Do you understand what I mean? Waves of bewilderment of who I am come and go, and all I want to do is dive in completely and know what is underneath. 

I am always such an advocate of absorbing good energy, but the disorientation in my head becomes so cold, there is no fire to put it out. I keep trying to fight against it, but I am too weak. What is happening to me? I stay conflicted, so I hang on to the battle before me. I have to make sense of this, and I am not going to pay attention to the time left. 

I hear a voice – it becomes louder and louder, the ticking starts to fade. My fingers start to profuse with sweat as I slip from the edge slowly. “Let go, Nishima.” “Let go.” I have never felt so faint, and eventually, I have no other choice, but to give in. My eyes open up, and everything around me is mute. All my thoughts turn static. 

There is an awareness of peace, which is all I see and hear. I stop feeling, and I stop fighting. 

So, this is why the universe slowed time. For me to release. For me to flow. For me to understand that it is okay to not understand the layers of who I am, and who I am to become, at least not yet. Everything is a process, and the eagerness to have the answers to everything I ask will never come as quickly as I want it to. That thinking too much only leads to a heavy storm riled up enough to destroy anything in its wrath. 

The universe told me to fixate my soul on something as simple as seasons. “What does that mean?” I ask. Seasons are not naïve. They were not created for the sole reason of bringing rain or snow. Seasons cannot always stay fixed – they relish their time in the present, and patiently accept what is next. Seasons urge the weather to be different every day. They come and go every year, each time bringing transition and change. 

Suddenly, there is a sense of calmness behind this never-ending cycle of my cognizance. I smile back at the universe with profound appreciation for this unspeakable magic. 

The weather is not the only thing worthy of a change of season.

 
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