"Summer Magick", John Stormm [best motivational books for students .TXT] 📗

Summer Magick

       It was the brightest and warmest of summers ever, or so it seemed at the time. I had met and fell in love with the most enchanting woman I had ever met. Everything about her intrigued me and held me spellbound, to share every minute I could find with her and in a mere moment in time, she had changed her mind. I couldn't believe my own eyes and ears. Where was I that I could not see this coming? I, who would die before I would break a promise; ready to commit my life to this wonderful human being. Was there any way that such a man as I could see such a thing coming? I was stunned, astonished and devastated all in a single toss of her hair as she walked away.

       I was no longer fit for human company. The tempestuous waves of my heart and my emotions were eroding the beach my life. I ran to the deep woods where I could cry, pray and scream my heart out without upsetting those around me. I breathed in the sweetness of that very warm and lovely summer day. I got as deep into the cool forest as I could and as far from judgmental humanity as I could. I needed to communicate my pain someplace where I would not be judged as a complete crackpot. I was sure I loved her for all the right reasons, but certainly some fool would tell me it wasn't worth it or that it was a trivial thing. It was neither of those. I had committed my heart to someone who changed like the weather and I'm just a little more permanent than that. The light goes on and then it doesn't go off until the bulb burns out on its own. As I write this decades later, such a thing has yet to happen to me.

        I found a lovely babbling brook I had always enjoyed cooling off in on the hottest of summer days and dangled my feet in its cool, cheerful waters; mingling my tears in its current in the hope that its laughing rush to the lake would heal the sadness of my salty contribution. The summer wind in the trees whispered to me. I'm not saying the leaves sighed in the breeze. I'm telling you they actually whispered to me.

       

     "You have been heard," the maples sighed. "You are where you belong and are loved as Nature intended."

          "Who are you?" I insisted.

          "Your Mother loves you," they returned.

          "My mother would rather I be far away from her," I yelled. "What kind of cruel voice would mock me now? I hurt inside and I don't even know if I can bear it to live another year."

          "The old woman in her quiet apartment is not your mother as much as I," the trees whispered. "You were always my son. Do you not even understand why you came here?"

          I have to admit, this is where I came when any hurt was too big or any joy too full. This is where I came to bare my soul and receive my healing when I needed it. Many of my friends thought I was entirely too self sufficient; that I needed no one and never would. But I needed this place.

          "I come here because I've never been rejected here," I said. "Of all places, this is my home."

          "Then accept me as I have accepted you," the summer breeze sighed to me.

          "I will," I said. "I hurt so bad inside and feel like I shall never recover."

          "You love a woman who does not love you," Mother said. "And you feel as though you'll never have a family of your own."

          "Yes," I admitted with a deep shuddering sob. Thankfully, I did not feel ashamed to cry out here.

          "Do you reject the family you already have, or do you only come when you are in pain or need?" she asked. "Now would be a good time for you to be with your family and they with you," she suggested.

          My heart was dark on such a bright day, but that changed in a moment as the clouds thickened ominously and the breeze quickened. The smell of rain and then a torrent came to this hallowed cathedral of green.

            "Great," I complained. "All I needed was the rain."

             "Yes!" she crackled with the thunder. "You need this."

           There was no place to go to avoid the soaking and the thunder rumbled loudly as the lightning flashed about me. The rain wasn't so cold; it felt cool and refreshing to my skin. The salty irritation of my sweat and grief rinsed off me cleanly as my rage emptied itself in the booming thunder. The deafening crash of the lightning and simultaneous thunder cast down the leafless skeleton of an ancient oak only a few yards from me. My heart took some comfort in the raging winds as though they howled my outrage at the careless cruelty I felt victimized by.

      As quickly as the summer storm came: it was over. The forest smelled wet and sweet for the washing, and I smelled more of the forest than of humanity. A stag and two does came walking near enough to touch. They looked at me and tested the air. Evidently, my scent was nothing alarming and they browsed for a few brambleberries near by. A trio of fox kits looked out at me from their den in the hill behind me. The vixen, I assumed was one of the parents, gave a nervous high bark then decided I was no threat and tended to her offspring. A pair of raccoon youngsters came down from a nearby maple to play on the forest floor. The mother searched for crayfish in my stream as the siblings wrestled in the moss below their tree.

          "They're not afraid of me," I whispered in wonderment.

          "They know you won't hurt them," the trees sighed.

           "But I'm human and they all fear humans," I objected.

         "You don't smell very human to them," she replied. "You are one of us. You always have been and always will be. They belong here, and so do you."

           "I wish I could never leave this place," I said longingly.

           "No one is casting you out," the breeze sighed.

           "I can stay?" I asked.

           "As long as you like," Mother replied.

           "But I must work and pay my bills," I objected.

           "If you feel you must," she replied, "we will not stop you. We'll be here for you as always."

           "Always?" I asked hopefully.

           "All of us depend upon each other in some way," Mother said. "It depends entirely upon how well we all work and pay our bills. Haven‘t you noticed how much love always costs you something? A bill you would have gladly paid, but were denied the sale. You love and are loved in return. Would you deny us?"

            Call me a “momma’s boy” if you must, but call me a wise man because I’ve always known on which side my bread was buttered. Nature may high tail it when you walk into her lands bent upon destruction and you may never know the many faces of love or what you missed, or how you belong. But, once upon a time, I walked into a magickal place and found myself and my family. I learned to accept and I found acceptance. I see, hear and feel love all around me and I feel safe and secure that it will not change. I’ve always envied those loving couples celebrating fifty years or more together in the warmth of their companionship. At least, I used to until I found my own. Some people never know love like that. It’s hard to find that kind of commitment these days. Have you communed with Mother lately? She's been asking about you.

Text: John Stormm
Images: John Stormm
Publication Date: 10-13-2009

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