Sleepwalking my way through life: The Spiritualistic Atheist



The Spiritualistic Atheist

There’s this specific memory that sticks in my mind to this day, a memory that floats to surface whenever I feel a sense of serene adventure, or a calm beginning. It seems like it happened years, even decades ago, but it was only mere months.

It was very late, so late that it was actually considered early; the rising sun silently giving life to the world with a soft glow. I gazed out the window at the incredibly empty streets and kept watch, in vain, for any sign of life. Apart from us, there wasn’t a soul to be seen for miles, with every door, window and curtain shut tight from glorious sight. The car – as silent as the air itself – pulled into the car park and sat itself near the middle, neatly parked between the white lines despite it being the only car in the area. My companions and I stepped out and headed towards the all-night supermarket in the quest for food.

There was a soft breeze in the air, enough to cool me down and enough to create the smallest of sounds on the air. It was so tranquil; the early hours of the morning, everything was empty and unmoving, yet so full of life. Even the supermarket seemed to hum with solitary existence as we walked up and down the empty aisles. A few items later and we were back on the streets.

My companions walked back towards the car with our snacks in tow while I hung back, admiring the vista before me. The breeze blew again and I turned to watch a plastic bag become caught in an updraft and being carried up and up and up into the sky and the world that lies beneath it. And that’s when I saw it; the sky.

This is where I find my words failing me, where I find myself a fool for even trying to describe the sight before me. I want to call it orange, but I can’t. It wasn’t red, it wasn’t carrot, it wasn’t flesh, beige gold, or yellow. I want to say that it was as if a soft fire was dancing on the clouds, throwing shadows in the soft crevasses of the floating blankets, but that does not do it justice. It was as if there was no such thing as darkness, as if this light permeated anything and everything and I wished I could be as lucky as the clouds who were able to bask wholly in it. And still that does not do it justice.

I felt a squirming in my gut. A realisation dawned on me and filled my entire body – head to toe – in tingles; exciting pinpricks of possibility that flooded every sense and muscle. I could do anything. It was possible to do anything. To borrow a phrase from my favourite PostSecret postcard; in that moment, I was infinite.

When I think of that moment in the present day I feel the need to run. I have the tremendous urge to run as fast as I can until my legs fail me, and then I want to run more. I want to achieve something. I want to see something beautiful. I want to create something beautiful. I want to be seen. I want to see the possibility in every moment. I want to make every fucking second count towards something. I want to hold on and never let go. I want to hear true laughter, and I want to truly laugh. I want to be there, to do something. I want to be that guy. Fuck, I want to make something of myself.

But as I stood in that car park, and as I gazed at that sky, all I could do was smile.
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1 Comments:

At 11:10 am, Anonymous honoursystem said...

we need to hang out.

..wanna split a ticket with jack? ;p

 

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