Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Stone Of Fears

It's well past midnight and instead of being in my bed, I'm rather standing in front of the Atlantic Ocean under the gentle reflection of a full moon, immersed in a cool breeze and facing my fears. Standing here alone at this dark hour with eerie howling winds is for me, an attempted conquest of some of my imagined fears.



I am now going further. I am descending down a steep hill that leads to a rocky beach. As I approach the water, the eternal crashing sound of the waves against the background of the all-enveloping post-midnight silence in sync with my rhythmic and erratic heart beat is creating an acoustic and arterially vacuumed symphony that is gradually pounding my fear into droplets.

Now I have unbelievably actually stepped into the cool water and the whole effect of the water bathing my feet has just washed away whatever remnants of fear I had of the midnight ocean. Me against the Atlantic. Me against the Ocean. Me against my fear. Now there remains the Atlantic and the Ocean but where is my fear? WASHED AWAY!

Then, just as I am about to leave the battle shore I see on the ground, a whitish object gradually being unveiled by the receding tide. It is a pebble, uncharacteristically rough and invitingly isolated as if saying to me: “Pick me up, I'm yours". I ignore it and climb back uphill and leave the shore.

After about two minutes’ walk away, it occurs to me that that pebble could be the proof of my conquest; the crown given to me by the ocean itself; evidence that I came, I saw and I conquered.

 So I return, descend the hill again and walk into the water again. This time, I approach the midnight ocean so fearlessly and confidently and then pick up the pebble. But there is another pebble now showing itself too - a smaller one. I pick it up also. It seems as though I have been doubly rewarded for the courage to return. And now I have in my possession two stones from the ocean to remind me of my conquest. To remind me that many of the fears in this life that hold us back are nothing but imagined fears. Face them and they will vapourize.

I have decided to call each of my pebbles the "STONE OF FEARS". Now I am en route to petrify all of my other fears. All those fears that cannot be petrified will be pelted. And as for the rest of the fears that resist all manner of stoning, they will be heaved into the buoyant and confident Ocean to float away into the waters of no return.



Disclaimer: Much as the author actually did the above exactly as written, the piece itself and the implied suggestion is not a license to take unnecessary or avoidable risks. Please be responsible in the search of your "STONE" - whatever it may be.



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