Some things ask only for trust
He found himself surrounded by markings. They stretched to his left, in front of him, to his right, and, he imagined, behind him as well. None of them were clear or readable.
There was movement within each one. Candles, or lights like candles, drifted through them. He watched them one by one around the circle surrounding him. He saw them all, but felt no need to understand them.
A soft whistling filled the room, like a breeze that could be heard but not felt.
Someone was there with him, just beyond sight, standing watch over what was happening. Witnessing.
He let go.
He was naked, lying on his back, shivering beneath the slightest touch of some young energy. He felt completely vulnerable, yet there was no fear. Only a quiet excitement. It felt like an initiation into something older than words.
Then the lights began to move, and the whole circle slowly tilted toward him until it became a great wheel suspended in the darkness before him.
The moment he saw its shape, he recognized it.
It was something he had always believed was within him. Something he had trusted his whole life without ever seeing it. Now it stood before him, real and unmistakable.
The quiet question he had carried for so long simply fell silent.
He began to cry.
Nothing had been explained.
Nothing had been revealed.
And yet everything he needed had been confirmed.
The presence remained in the shadows, radiating love, but never revealing itself.
He found himself grateful that it did not.
As he looked again at the unreadable markings surrounding him, they no longer seemed to be asking for interpretation.
They never had.
This is my journey
— Nate Long “Owl”