Throw away your perception that there is a better place out there. The world is a big dark, dreary and hungry beast, ready to swallow you whole without even bothering to chew. What you have is your little patch of grass, maybe a 4′ by 4′ area which gets a little sun in the afternoon and a bench that gets some shade from a neighboring tree that has unknowingly grown a little sideways in its years. That tree to is withering with age.
So you take a look around your little world. You see what’s left of the pretty white picket fence that you put up around it several years ago. Maybe its a little shabby. The elements have been at it. The strong winds of careers and expectation and the hail of broken relationships have brought down a whole section of it. You repaired that not long ago but the damage never really got covered properly. Your bench is creaking and is leaning slightly to the right from you tossing and turning when you lay on it at night. The plants you planted when you first entered this small world of your, Hope, Dreams and Love, lay withered in the flower bed next to your feet. The grass beneath your shoes is brown with too little water.
Shoes? The things on your feet have long ceased to be called shoes. Maybe they should be call flip flops now. Your clothes are shabby, your leggings and worn thin from overuse. Your shirt has a stain that wont come off and has holes. You sit down on your bench and hang your head. You say “Is this all that my world is?” . For a few moments you are silent, lost in your own thoughts. You hear a knock. You look up and see the gate. Of all the things around you, it is the most perfect. The hinges shine with oil and there is a big shiny lock on the door. Never have you opened that gate. It has been the entrance to your fortress for years and yet it has been your prison guard.
For the first time you realize that there is someone at the gate. How long has he been there? From the looks of him, he is a ordinary person. There is nothing outstanding about him except for his face. You cannot seem to understand it but there is compassion in that face. Anger grips your mind. Is he mocking me? Does he pity me? You turn your face away, intent on picking up the pieces of the latest failed relationship lying on the grass next to your bench. Maybe if you try hard enough, the next relationship would work better. You have told yourself the same thing a million times before.
Again the knock comes. Irritated you growl “Go away! I don’t need your pity”. The stranger is silent and shakes his head in sadness. He has something in his hand but you cannot quite see it. Once again to turn around, this time to rebuild a broken friendship lost in the aftermath of that failed love relationship. Maybe if I act like nothing ever changed that we could still be friends. In your heart you know that it is a lost cause.
Once more the knock comes. This time you are really angry. You stalk over to the gate and yell “WHAT DO YOU WANT! LEAVE ME ALONE! I DO NOT KNOW YOU!”. With the same sad compassion, the stranger hold up his hand. You notice for the first time that they are scarred with a single wound that goes right through the palm of his hands. It must have been painful in the extreme. There is something else in his hand. A key. He is holding it out to you. Still he is silent. You realize that the key looks exactly like the one you threw away when you 1st put up the fence. “All I need is me”, that’s what you said back then.
For the first time he speaks, his voice full of love, you have heard the words before, spoken by a friend, someone you met on the road, a pastor at one of those silly religious rallies. The words are familiar, yet simple. “Open the door”. You hesitate, your hand halfway to the key. What if this is a hoax? What if he just wants my little peace of space? As if reading your mind, he shakes his head. He then points with his other scarred hand at your little 4′ by 4′ space. “Let me in, and I will give you so much more”. You turn once again. This time not to distract yourself but to contemplate your world. Everything is broken. Everything is tarnished. You could use some help. You could use some Love. You turn back, this time with purpose and resolution. You reach out and take the key. You open the gate and he walks into your world.
You stand there expecting your little 4′ by 4′ to become and 4 acre by 4 acre estate. The seconds pass by and still nothing changes. You hang your head, knowing it was too good to be true. You look up once again to ask the stranger to leave. He has moved to your flower bed and is watering the plants and grass. He plants new seeds and tills the earth by hand. Next he moves to the fence. He removes the hastily put up planks and fills up the holes in the fence. He fixes them without a word. By now your world already looks a little better. He however, doesn’t. He is getting dirty from doing all the work. Next he moves to your bench. You are amazed at how good it seems now. The fence shines with new paint and your plants are starting to grow. Once he is finished with the bench, he sits down on the bench. At first you just stare but then you realize that he is not leaving. You are about the thank him and send him on his way when you realize that he is asking you to sit as well. But he is filthy and you want to get on with your life. There are people & deadlines out there to meet. How can you do that with someone watching you all the time. You won’t be able to cut corners and lie with someone at your back. You want him to leave. You tell him to go.
The same sad expression comes across his face. He gets up and walks out the gate. You however have totally forgotten that he has left. Your world is beautiful again. Everything looks better now. So you carry on with your life.
For a little time your are successful, the world is your apple. You expand, your world is no longer a 4′ by 4′ plot of land. You have moved on. You own 4 acres of land now. There is a house and a garden. The house is a mansion with 10 bedrooms and 4 dining halls. The garden stretches far and wide, with a fountain and well manicured grass. You live in luxury and wealth. Everything money can buy is yours.
But behind the gloss lies a word in tatters. There, in the bedroom is a spot that you painted over the damaged caused by a brutal divorce. The furniture in the living room is smashed from a power struggle in your business. The garden has a closed of area where the grass does not grow because of a vicious back stab by your business partner. Once again your would is in shambles, only this time the opulence blinds many to that fact.
You hear a knock. You have not heard it for the many years that you have been building your career and destroying your life. Slowly you walk to the door, it might be another one of those thieves trying to steal what you have. Instead it is a familiar face. He has that same expression you saw all those years ago. Again he is holding out his hand. You look and see that there is nothing in it. He is holding out his hand to you. He wants you to follow him. And you do. He leads you through your own house. You feel ashamed as he sees all the broken furniture and the damaged walls. You want him to stop but he keeps on walking, not missing on area of the house. Finally he goes outside, past the dry fountain and the barren patch of ground. He leads you out the gate and onto the road.
Together you walk until you reach a little fenced off patch of ground. There is a bench under the shade of a tree and a flowerbed full of flowers alongside a small pool of water. He leads you in and you recognize your 4′ by 4′ world. Once again he sits on the bench and beckons you to sit. This time you do.
You sit, and lean on him, and go to sleep, and you have peace.
From somewhere in my mind
