Shattered

You see I look back and I don’t even wonder, if it was the right thing to happen, the universe be steady making magic. Running out to find the dolphins, Kiawe in my heel, no problem. Pnematocysts stabbing into my side, this certainly wasn’t a time to cry or ask why. Cetaceans on the horizon in my mind. Often times you can’t hear it inside your human mind, but the universe is crying out, “Slow down, and look around, something about to go down”.

 Figure creeping in the shadows of the trees, certainly a bright green car wouldn’t make a fool out of me. Too many people here, wouldn’t somebody hear? Took note of the shadow and his car, by the time I’d return, they’d have teleported far as the nearest star. Plus, I’d locked my gear and black book of soul secrets away safely in the trunk of my car. Or so I’d have thunk, except I was drunk, on ocean passion making magic.

Dive gear in hand, swimming out to a foreign liquid land. Warning signs crying out from the trees and the bees of the sea. Can’t hear them over the infinite aquatic bliss in my midst. I’m here to wash the modernization from my skin and bones, diving deep into the ocean zone. The salty liquid crests over me, I can hardly remember the shadowy figure that made my sub conscious quiver. Like a rising river, it’s hard to make sense of the tension of intention.

Undulating through the bright blue reflections in natures sea of action. The pleasant squeaks of my cetaceanic peeps creep deep into the drums of my ears. Oceanic lullaby could drift a thousand infants to sleep. The pod undulates together like the petals of Earth’s first flower, unquantifiable power of expression flowing through my solar plexus. The hydrodynamic force flows over me like a subsea waterfall running down my back. My smile goes wild, I sigh and thank the universe for such magical brothers and sisters as we play for hours.

My ears perk themselves up, one of my new friends has found something in the muck. The entire pod flocks over, I whip my head over my shoulder. Never have I seen dolphins take an interest in the sand, like there was something, buried deep within. I surface for air and quickly descend down into the turbid sandy flare. They have certainly found something, I can hear them chirping back and forth, mumbling. A coucil of sorts, deciding if I am worthy of the plunder they unearthed.

Out of the dust, a small spinner comes up. Holding in his teeth, a small black brief. What could be in the case? Impatient and excited, I click open the latches, the particulates flutter down, I can see clearly now. Looked like a clean green twenty stacks of hundreds. Benjamin staring back at me, can it really be? There is a note inside, “Don’t ask why, just change your life, in any way that you’d like.” I’m in disbelief, why me, why now, and how? I thank my gentle toothed friends with a bow and a quick bit of the leaf game. Heading back to shore, case in hand, ready to break the surface tension and return to land.

Ecstasy rushing over me, I can still hardly believe. Why me? I thanked God, the universe, the dolphins, and myself, grinning like a little elf. Feet on the sand, head in the trees, feeling a bit weak in the knees. I take my time returning to my whip as the water drips.


As I approach the car, reality begins to materialize in my eyes. I was so high on life so far from strife, I thought to myself, “Dang I left the trunk open, that ain’t so nice!” — Still smiling, the sun of cognition is beginning to set on my emotional high. I locked everything up in the trunk before I headed in for my dunk. My knees buckle and I sunk. Everything was gone with the wind. That trunk was home to many of the secrets of my soul.

My little black book, emotional journey of the untold. That spine has traveled further than many will in their lifetime, it even lived in Copenhagen for a while. From the winter to summer months as I forgot it on the plane after a close call with death over the skies of Scandinavian flags and pies. It ventured inland from the shores of Thailand, artwork from a monk so wise it made my head spin. So attached to the memories buried inside this spine of mine, I asked god, “Why?”. Was the information in those pages worth this newfound fiat currency paper that we all seemed to be enslaved by? The monks told me not to write while I was there but I didn’t think it would inspire the wrath of the holy to exchange my divine scrolls for blank green parchment. If I could sell it back to the intergalactic phenomenon, I would, but alas this was a dream and I moved on. As I drove home, tiny pieces of glass tucked into the crack of my a**, my smile once again broke wide. Turned up the radio and began to cry, Regina Spektor always makes me feel fly. No one can steal my happiness, that lives deep in your chest.

Instead of cursing the shadow who broke into my soul, I only wished for my words to speak deep into the hole of their own, the one that is filled with others' misery. I believe they still have my book of secrets, growing the courage to return it in all its glory one day. I know it was not their intention to hurt me, just trying to get by in a world obsessed with more without why. 

Moral of my story is… The second you stop living, writing and riding, you’re dying. Persist, prevail, inhale the fresh air on this beautiful planet. You never know, the universe and a pod of dolphins might just give you the chance to…. “Change your life, in any way that you’d like.”