Where Summer Begins…
A treasure chest of golden light quietly sits in the corner of the attic. Left there long ago, forgotten. When the small window resting high above the empty boxes and dusty memorabilia is opened, a gentle ray of sunshine sweeps across her antique surface, reminding her she’s something more than a decayed, ragged, old box. Beneath the layers of film and dirt, filth and grime, she’s bronze, she’s golden, she’s shiny, she’s treasured.
Sometimes we push to the corner what deserves to be front and center. Sometimes we turn our backs on what is most valuable, what is most important. Sometimes we forget what we must remember. Sometimes the light shines ever so gently at the perfect moment, catching our eye, as if saying “Look this way, this is what you’ve been missing, this is the box of treasures you must open. This is the gold you’ve been seeking.”
In the dark corner of the attic, the light leads me to the treasure chest. First, I cleaned her lid, wiping away the dark dust and film that was dimming her beauty, her uniqueness, and her rich texture muted by the haze of filth clouding her vision. With each swipe, it was as if her stories- all the places she had traveled, all the experiences she’d had- began to align. With all the voices speaking at once, each so excited to be released from the deadness and suffocation that had been her life in recent years, it was challenging to know who to listen to first.
Patiently I waited for the clamoring voices to subside. There was great laughter, then a collective sigh. A sigh of relief. A sigh to release the pent-up stagnation, a result of being forced to remain silent for so very long. With the sigh came a deeper exhale, an inhale and another exhale. The voices began to breathe in unison, just like an orchestra that never forgets how to perform harmoniously and effortlessly. Everyone remembered at once.
The breathing got bigger, more rhythmic, almost hypnotic, as a heart beating with strength and skill. The powerful pressure builds like a crescendo. And suddenly, without my help, the treasure chest opened with a bang! And the dark, stagnant room was filled with the most beautiful light- iridescent and golden and sparkly and beautiful. A light unique all her own. The voices roared with joy and singing. I could see the light dancing all around, sometimes in shades of blue and green, red and purple, and glimpses of white pure light with hints of silver and gold. The light moved with the music and my own body did, too. Swaying then bouncing then jumping and gently cruising throughout the room. I was not thinking; I was simply moving and something powerful and magical had consumed me, taken over my spirit, and it was beautiful and good and reminded me of Home. In that dusty, old, dark attic, I found myself that day. I found my way Home.
All we must do is remember. To go within and find those hidden treasure chests we have long forgotten, those we tucked away, pushed aside to the corner of our upper rooms. We must go there. Rediscover them. Clean them. Tend to them. Listen to the chorus of voices yearning to be heard, telling us of dreams long lost or perhaps, hidden on purpose. It’s time to listen to them. To let them rise. Let them clamor for our attention. Let them be free- those voices, those ideas, those callings. Open the treasure chest of golden light. Do not be afraid of the noise it may bring. Do not be afraid of the dancing that may ensue. Do not be afraid of how the body will respond. For what surfaces, what emerges, what is released…this is the treasure, the gold, you’ve been traveling long and far to find. It’s right there. The gold. Inside yourself. Be a gold digger within your very own self. You are who you’ve been waiting for, looking for, yearning for, and dreaming of all these years. You’re golden. Do you hear me? You’re golden.
June 13, 2020
Photo by jurien huggins on Unsplash
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