This has been a full yet mundane sort of week. I have immersed myself in a variety of tasks that are essential to complete but seemingly incomplete able. I am frustrated, exhausted and feeling no sense of accomplishment! Can you tell I'm a little cranky?
I also haven't felt like writing this week. I'm afraid the back to school and reality mode I am in has left me little time and energy to ponder the color of the sky or why certain things that happen in my day play out in the particular manner that they do.
I had this odd little scene pop in my head a few weeks ago and I wrote it down, but I couldn't finish it and I couldn't really understand from where it had manifested. It’s a part of a story, I can tell, and I've never been driven to write any kind of story. I think I'll put here and see if it takes me anywhere. Its not honed or edited, and as I said before, it isn't finished. Or... it may not go any further than this entry. We'll see. Here it is.
Alone, Vinico faced a united pack that swiftly and skillfully ripped away his noble breastplate. He had been commanded to come alone and he had obliged, leaving him fully exposed for their attack. Their agenda was clear and had been well plotted. They pummeled him with stones and then, like hungry ravens, pecked at his very being. Years earlier the sovereign warned that when he was gone, this would be the way of the elder he. Vinico understood his position in the flock and slightly protested, but only out of a primal instinct. Trusting this encounter would be brief and the status quo would return in a few short hours, he took his blows dutifully. Knowing it would always be his role; he resolved to carry the fault. When they flew away to their protected nests, Vinico gathered the feathers that had been so violently plucked and returned to his own shelter. He found his family anxiously awaiting his return. Seeing them, he let his grief come in and collapsed into them. They wrapped him in their warmth and ministered to his wounds. He recounted the degradation, and together they wept. They wept for the stinging wounds that would surely leave profound scars. They wept for the loss of their cherished flock and because they knew they would now be left to carry on alone. He was innocent but forever accused, with all knowledge of his qualities ignored by those whom he had first loved without condition.
Vinico's confidence now wavered and he questioned his ability to endure what he knew lay ahead. He had never known such fear and doubt. Self-doubt had always offered a personal challenge to which he welcomed and valiantly and skillfully arose, but this recent encounter had been overwhelming. He found himself standing at the edge of a unfamiliar ocean that beckoned him to jump into its salty darkness. The sky and the water had become a blackish green and the air seemed putrid and thin, lacking in oxygen causing him to gasp for breath and feel disoriented and confused. Vinico couldn't understand how these waters, that had always been his sweet salvation, now betrayed him. On this day the depths were dark and menacingly unpredictable and he no longer trusted them. He sensed powerful creatures swimming beneath its cloudy surface, waiting for the chance grab at him and swallow his every effort. Suddenly, his body lifted from the earth and began to float above the water. He was in a terrifying state of limbo, paralyzed, unable to turn back, reluctant to go forward. He imagined the weight of all for whom he felt accountable and again struggled to catch his breath. He was aware of a persistent draw from the once calming water that now seemed so unreliable, and he resisted. The more he resisted, the higher he lifted. As his altitude increased he could see his beloved family shrinking smaller and smaller as they reached upward toward him and shouted for him to jump in. Why were they so sure when he, for the first time, was so afraid? He focused his gaze on Oamiare. She looked so certain and so ready. The air was becoming increasingly thinner and the pressure was closing in on his chest. He breathed heavily. She looked so eager. While he dangled there in the sky, feeling enormous amounts of fear and the squeeze of the thinning air, he studied her. She had caught his eye and his heart a lifetime ago, for a multitude of reasons he could not put into words. They had made a life together and were connected by all of the events and circumstances that make two people live in perfect tandem. She had a gift of insight and intuition and was skilled at adaptive thinking, making her a valuable council. At this moment he didn't believe her, but he knew he could trust her. He knew he should trust her. She loved him and they shared one soul. He could lead her or follow her and she would always be there to begin again and again for as many beginnings as he ever needed. He had to squint to just make out her face and although he was too far above to hear, he could see she was shouting, "Its time! It won't be easy but you can do this! Its time! Jump in!" He looked from the dark waters to her face and to the faces of his babes. He sensed that he would be pushed upward no farther, but this discomfort would never cease. He would be alive, but never be allowed to live without this pressure bearing down on his lungs and heart. He had no choice, he had to jump in.
Vinico looked down at the ocean and saw waves breaking over a wide peninsula that had not been there before. They were long and powerful waves that built up then crested into perfectly hollow tubes that eventually broke over the land in a perfect rhythm. They came in sevens and he watched them in awe. He wanted to touch them and to feel their power, but he knew he would have to jump in at the right time. The current pulled and the bottom was jagged with coral and sharp rocks. He could see the waves building in the distance and knew he had to hurry and be smart. Timing along with his strength and intelligence would be key. He wondered if he would be able. He would have to avoid the dangerous rocks and the coral reef, not to mention the fierce creatures that lurked there in those waters. The swim out to the waves would be long and tiresome but all at once he was on a mission; becoming focused and motivated by this massive challenge. He counted each breaking wave, “...one...two...three...four...five...six...seven.” He thrust his body out into the waters and swam for his life.
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