The Bridge Between

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. By day, the clouds would mute themselves into simple white. I’ve always loved how much the sky comes to life at night, a metaphor for how many of us live our lives. Walking around like we have no secrets held, smiling at one another, doing our day-to-day activities, but as soon as the lights go out, as soon as darkness comes, what lies beneath the mask we wear, rises to the surface. That, to me, is more beautiful than anything.

I wander outside from time to time, for a reminder from the purple clouds, there is always more than meets the eye. Some say, I have a gift, though I’m not the only one who can perceive things that others cannot, it is a rare ability. I used to think I was crazy, until I met more people like me. These people serve as an anchor, from the spirit world to this one, the mundane. For me, there is no difference, I see magic where some think it does not exist.

I’ve learned to remain silent, and let most moments that I perceive, be sweetly intimate. Sometimes, it is ancestors in the form of light, protecting their living loved ones from things like getting hit by a bus. Other times, it might be enchanted bodies of water, surrounded by luscious green, in the middle of urban city. I look for the occasional glance from one who also sees. A head nod or tiny smirk lets us know, we’re not alone.

However, I’ve noticed something a bit peculiar these days. People who once walked around with their eyes glazed, appear to be seeing, but only briefly. They shake their heads, squint their eyes, look around to see if this has happened to anyone else. When no one acknowledges what they’ve seen, they go back to what they were doing, confused, yet changed. To witness this, awakening, is exciting for me, but why is it happening?

I do see this depth of perception, as a gift, but it hasn’t always been this way. I can recall times when I was afraid. The mind is something highly valued in this day and age, and a clear, sane, intellectual mind, is even more so. Someone who sees things that “are not there”, is not exactly viewed as sane, but quite the opposite. Luckily, an eccentric mother of two beautiful twins that I was a nanny for, caught on to my gift and introduced me to a wise woman. She taught me how to harness what I have, assured me I was not crazy and has helped me own who I am and what I see. I think of how she helped me, often, and hope to share this level of acceptance and understanding with the very confused beings I’ve witnessed lately.

I’ve always had a unique way about me, so it wasn’t a huge surprise to myself or those closest to me that I could see magic in the everyday world. I imagine, for those awakening to all that is actually there and growing beyond the confines of a limited mind, being blessed with the vision does not seem like a blessing. I’ve never had anything to compare it to, I’ve always seen, but to come from a space of not seeing, to seeing, that must be unsettling. Beyond this, I have a feeling, the more people see themselves, truly, for who they are, the more they see life, fully, as it is. For those in transition, I’ll be patiently waiting on the bridge, between who they thought they were and who they are, in the middle of what they thought life was and what it is, as a dear friend, to make the road of change just a little less unnerving. Maybe that’s why I like those purple clouds so much, alluring, mysterious, but right where they’re meant to be, waiting to be celebrated, beckoning to be seen.