He lies in the middle of his bed in the early morning, alone, somewhere around 3:00, except for his cat purring at his feet, the darkness all consuming.
The birds and wild animals sleep because it is so quiet; a peaceful silence...a calmness.
Then, out of nothing, an overwhelming feeling of happiness and love fills the room and his body is filled with grace...a tremendous Light.
It is nothing he has ever felt before or remembers.
I've arrived, he thinks. I have found my way Home, yet knowing deep inside, Home is so far away.
There is no rationality to his feelings.
He knows he floats, at times, aimlessly, in this vast ocean, an innocent, a child, like so many before him, merely passing through, and never knowing the reason, he feels EXILED and must find that distant shore...Home.
He knows this in his soul.
A voice enters his mind and says: "There will be signs, wonders and miracles along your journey and always keep your eyes on the morning star."
He feels: "I'll find a way ..."
The feeling of Home slowly falls away and the coldness fills his heart like ice from a terrible winter he once experienced as a child.
He knows Home is a far distant shore, but these fears and obstacles, he feels, like the torrents and waves of the Atlantic ocean, can be overcome.
"Why have I been exiled?" he wonders.
"What have I done?"
He closes his eyes as the sun rises, hearing the birds sing, as he falls into a deep sleep, those memories, those ancient memories, come back to him, strong, so clear, so beautiful, he yearns to sail towards the shore, hoping he will see those he has lost over so many lifetimes and will always love....and the Light.
He knows he cannot sail, cross over...too much time remaining...fixed in exile.
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Seneca – On the Shortness of Life – Comment.
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