Room? What room?!?
I wasn’t in any room that I could see. How could this be a “room”? I was outside. I mean the room I had been in was great and all that, but this just all began to seem too weird. I could not explain how I got to be outside. And how had i gotten dressed so? I didn’t remember changing clothes. And what of my familiar clothes? Where were they? And then a fear gripped me; where was my suitcase?
Panic ensued. The music began to fade and then stopped, along with the singing-without-words. The light faded into a twilight darkness, the field I was in lost it’s warmth and I became cold. I looked upon myself and found that I was once again dressed in the old tattered garb I had on before. I seemed so far from anywhere. Fear and panic throbbed so hard within me that my body began to shake. The growing silence of my surroundings became so deafening that I thought I might go mad. I felt so lost. So alone.
It was then I noticed beside me my old suitcase. My suitcase! At last, something familiar. Something tangible, sound . . . concrete. A connection. Sitting down, I pulled the suitcase up on my lap. Opening it, I carefully began to go through it’s contents. My “treasures”. I ran my hands around the contours of it’s battered surface, gingerly touching the stickers of all the places I had been, recalling with reverence the memories. Even though most of those memories contained fear and pain. At least they were something real. As real as the suitcase and the tattered clothes that I wore. The fear and panic began to subside and I grew into a comfortableness of the familiar. Into what “was real”. “I must have banged my head or something” I thought to myself. Or maybe it had been some sort of weird dream. But at least now I had awoke and was back where I belonged. Though exactly where I was , I was not quite sure.
It was then I heard His voice again;
“Oh, you are still in the Room of Grace. A dissonant note within you threw you out of sync with the reality of where you are at. This often happens when a person first begins to experience the dance. But that’s okay. You are not alone or lost, although you may feel like it. the Dance, the music, the singing-without-words continues. it goes on. In fact, it never really stops. Only your perception of it all can become obscured. We can, at any time you are ready, get ‘right back into the swing of things.’ as they say.”
“You are mad!” I yelled. “What you say is not real. This! This is real!” I shouted as I grabbed and held aloft my suitcase as evidence. Around me the grays and shadows grew in their starkness. Grasping my suitcase even tighter, I endeavored to shut out His voice. I did not want my comfortableness disturbed. What I had heard and seen before was an illusion. It was not real. It could not be real! It could not last. Iron earth and brass skies were the only reality. My tattered clothes were the reality. They were me and I was them. The beauty I had seen and heard was the illusion. Remembering it brought a strong moaning sadness that seemed as though it would smother me. It was painful. At least the sorrow and pain that I packed around with me in my suitcase was mine. It was at least familiar. It was what gave me existence. What the stranger had said and shown to me could not be real. And it was dangerous . . . scary. It made me feel afraid. Give me the shadows and the grays . . . it was where I belonged.
Again, His voice . . .
“You need not fear! You are not alone. Only believe . . .”