Mystic Passage

The sky was dark, and the moon was huge and round. Its light spilled a silvery glow over the landscape. Right after dinner my dog, Doc, and I went on a stroll in the neighborhood. The air was crisp, and each inhalation felt like I was sipping ice cold water.

I usually take a small flashlight with me onto our walks. Not so tonight, because the light of the moon illuminated the night. Our shadows reflected elongated on the sidewalk, seemingly walking ahead of us.

Doc and I walked on our usual route. The neighbors had their Christmas lights up and we enjoyed seeing all the colorful ornaments and lights. As we came to the corner of our street a sudden gust of wind curled into a small little funnel of air. I watched our shadows disappear in the whirl of the gust.

Doc and I walked around the funnel and our shadows on the sidewalk reappeared. We kept walking to the next street corner. Suddenly Doc began to bark. I turned around and saw that the small funnel of wind had grown and was right behind us.

"WOOOOOOOOSCH," was the sound I heard next and the wind funnel was now touching my shoes. Then the gust of wind blew at us vigorously and enveloped us completely. We were momentarily blinded and disoriented. It seemed like Doc and I were standing in the middle of a cold thick fog.

When we regained visibility, we were standing in a strange yet so familiar area. The gust had left us behind. We were surrounded by silence so thick that I would have needed a sharp knife to cut through it.

This silence was filled with gentle reminders of the past. In my mind I heard my grandmother's voice whispering: "Welcome home darling." The neighborhood which stretched before our eyes felt eerily familiar. It was my grandmother's hometown. This neighborhood was familiar to me and yet so strange. It was covered by a vail of lights.

We heard the sound of Christmas carols and children laughing somewhere in the distance. The buildings seemed to breath their windows covered in condensation. Some windows seemed they were staring at us with their bright yellow glow. Doc gave a low growl and then pulled me toward a Christmas tree in front of a yellow house.

We stood there staring at the house for a long while. "That's granny's house," I exclaimed. I focused on the door which suddenly opened, and a figure came gliding out and down the stairs. It was my granny's ghost woven from my memory.

My granny's eyes had a warm glow, and she looked at us welcoming. I had tears in my eyes whispered: "Oma, I have missed you so much." My words felt fragile like thin glass.

Granny did not speak at first and I am not sure if she spoke at all or we just had a psychic connection. I saw the wind gust enveloping her figure and the wind carried her voice. She asked me to follow her into the house.

I looked at Doc and said: "Are you ready let's go." We followed my granny's figure into the house. In the living room was a table and the entire family was seated around that table. They laughed and had a great time. "Oh, how much I miss this," I said. My voice was quivering and I felt sad.

The familiar surroundings now were no longer ordinary. Actually, these surroundings meant the world to me. In this moment the living room became the threshold to the past. My grandmother had guided me to see how our lives used to be.

I smiled and looked at Doc. My granny's present was an embodiment of memory itself. She reminded me of what was lost and what I could still find. I was still able to build a chosen family, and I could work on developing worthwhile friendships. I was a vessel, and my choices had gotten me to this point.

This moment was a teaching, and my state of mind was what mattered the most. This peace was the culmination of my journey and my experiences. The past was a reflection in which I found myself in lonely moments. The gust of wind had not carried me to my grandmother's house. It had carried me on a journey inside myself.

I felt calm and all fear and longing for the past disappeared. My grandmother was now a presence within me. I did not have to long for her. My journey through wind and memory acted as a release. The necessity for me to let go of pain which I carried for so long was made plain.

In this moment I understood that the gust of wind made me return; Not leave. It carried me through the corridors of my mind to a safe destination. My pain could no longer chain me. My heart was now set free. In this moment I felt I was whole.

Then it occurred to me that I had my dog with me on this inner journey. My companion and best friend. That thought startled me. How was that possible? I was just on an inner journey. Perhaps this was more.

I finally understood that he was not just my dog. He was my loyal guardian and my angel. My dog embodied devotion and guardianship. He was with me no matter what and he would be with me no matter what. Doc was in my soul like the memory of my grandmother. Together, they revealed that bonds matter reach beyond time and space.

I turned away from the scene in the Livingroom and walked with Doc toward the door. My grandmothers ghost stayed behind. I once more turned around, Doc barked, and we stepped outside into the cold of winter. We stepped down the stairs onto the sidewalk. I looked at the sky and saw the stars and the moon. I watched our shadows move in front of us but this time they seemed to float like my grandmother's ghost. We did not walk too far when I saw a small wind funnel collect in front of us.

Sudden but softly the wind gust rose once more. It surrounded my dog and me and lifted us up. Away from the past. My granny's house and neighborhood faded into the distance, and I realized that I had to let go of the vision. I had to let go of my crip on the past.

"Doc," I called out and gripped my pup's leash. Then I pulled bis body close to me. "I love you so much. All I need is to hold your fury body." Right at my side Doc pressed to my body and the gust of wind carried us back. Through a funnel filled with white light and fog. We once again were blinded by a white thick fog surrounding us.

Then, I felt my feet touch the ground and I knew that we were back where we both belonged. Our journey was complete. I was still gripping on to the leash and my pup pressing his body close to me. I opened my eyes which I had closed and looked at the sidewalk. There they were our reflections in the moonlight.

Gratefully I looked at Doc and said:" I love you so much," holding him closely. The wind gust now was disappearing to its origin. It was however, reaching from the sidewalk up toward the sky, spread out like a vail on the bottom and folded itself back into the darkness of the street. The wind melted with the ground softly and then was gone. So was my sorrow.

My sorrow had folded with the darkness of the night. The night's darkness and horizon landscape was leading us home through the silver gate of the moon. On the way the stars were lanterns along the path. We kept walking toward our house.

Only a quiet trace of our walk remained within my mind. Doc and I stopped in front of our house and we stood still. The night dark, the moon bright we walked up our driveway to our door. On the pavement of the driveway, we saw our shadows reflected by the moonlight. The reflection was clear, defined and carried the reflection of loyalty, lineage and passage.