Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday Tell this girl’s story
Since she was a child she had been aware of the light – the way it came in sometimes and illuminated the world so that everything appeared to shimmer and shine – to vibrate.
When she was young she had assumed everyone saw it and that everyone lived in a world where the edges sometimes disappeared in auras of vibrant white light. Her family though thought she was nuts. Her brothers with their toy guns and bravado thought she was a loon. They called her that, the Loon. ‘Watcha looking at Loon,’ they’d jeer. ‘Seeing fairies again?’ Her father’s attention would be drawn then. ‘Just snap out it,’ he’d snarl, his fist ready to ensure she did. He didn’t like difference. His reaction was to hit it till it squealed.
So, what with fists and jeers, she learned to hide from others those moments when the light came in so sweet and pure she was swept away by the wonder of it.
When she grew up she learned that the world was bigger than the world her father defined with his anger and his fear. The world of materialism and power her brothers marched in was only part of the story. There were people who loved the light – there were those who sought it.
Intrigued by this she visited their churches but found she did not like the walls and the way they sought to control the light with rules and fixed opinions. She visited the houses of spiritualists, New Age healers, gurus and shamans but rarely felt at home. At best she sometimes found a place to rest but knew her residence there was only temporary.
Always she marched to the beat of her own drum. Embracing the light, seeking it wherever it appeared was what she did but no one seemed to think that was the right thing to do. Most people wanted some kind of structure, some kind of belief system they could study, some rituals they could perform.
So, what with all the rules and rituals she felt alienated by, she learned to walk her own path alone. She took the solitary path of the seeker.
Others had passed this way before and left guideposts in the form of obscure writings.
Sometimes she met a fellow seeker and they walked in tandem for a while – discussed the way and the path as they saw it. Mostly though she walked alone.
In recent years all that had changed. There was movement now, an awakening, and a quickening. The light came in waves – tsunamis of light that transformed her consciousness. It wasn’t always pleasant – her body ached, her head vibrated, she saw strange flashes of light and her ears rang constantly yet the call to come into the light was insistent and difficult to ignore. Others felt it too. Thousands upon thousands. The solitaries, the seers and the seekers spoke out more openly now. The internet was their forum. Teachings came in channelled messages and were posted in blogs. Over time she learned to read only the messages that resonated with her. Although so many sought the light and felt its call they didn’t all walk to same path. Everyone walked their own.
Once she dreamt all those seeking the light were climbing a mountain. At the base many people gathered in groups. Further up the slope solitaries walked alone. She found herself in her midst. Once she stumbled and a man came to her aid. He offered his arm to lean on as she found her footing again then he smiled and went on his own way, alone.
On and on she climbed. As she climbed higher the light grew stronger. Beings of light and angels illuminated the way. The summit was obscured by an intense white golden light that radiated out from the peak in a vast network of geometric patterns. Home.
At last she knew what it was she had been seeking all these years. She had been searching for her way home.