Unlike Hulk, tearing angrily through clothes to emerge as a new self isn’t as a simplistic as it appears. Unfortunately, I have learnt from previous experience that this is a process, which requires patience and persistence. So, I persist. My visits to the Guru are less frequent, this is progress. For one day very soon, I will dance like the Tin Man. My body isn’t fully able to function. It has patterns that require attention permanent. Soon I will be a well oiled machine, floating seamless across the breezy night. For now, I must pay attention to the secret musings of my soul. In the meantime, I will listen to the unveiling of inner voids, creeping upon my restless mind.
As I catch the last rays of sunlight, my semi stuck frame stands beneath a grand lime tree. The light fading behind the mask of a grey night. One by one, the limes thud to the ground, wet from a shower earlier. They fall erratically in a rhythm oddly reassuring. I am enveloped by a wall of limes, trapped as they gather in organised uniform. I shake my head in bewildered amazement. The limes holding me hostage. A thunderous roar, rumbles beneath my cool feet. I look up to notice the enormous lime tree, laughing heartily.
“My apologies. You should see your face right now.”
The tree squeaks, its voice tiny for such a giant. Buzzing giggles follow. The limes mocking. I shrug. I am the Tin Warrior. What’s there to be afraid off? A tree and a lime army, come on! I straighten shoulders tight as best as I can muster. Standing tall, I cock my head. Defiance creeping over my velvet smooth skin. They laugh harder at my attempts of grandeur. I sigh. I would have to fight my way out. I instruct my legs to move but instead they remain fixed to the ground.
“You are not going anywhere Tiny Warrior”.
The limes goad cheerily. Their buzzing irritating.
“Its Tin Warrior not Tiny”.
The limes shriek hysterically, juice spurting from their silken flesh.
“Enough!” orders the tree.
Everyone seizes. Nothing moves, not even the wind. I fix my gaze upon the lime tree, silently urging my feet to move. The limes united in an orderly fashion, await further instructions. My restless heart becoming impatient. I did not like this silence. For what felt like an age, no one made noise of any kind. I shifted consciously aware of being watched like a rat in an experimental lab. Then eventually someone coughed crudely.
“To be unstuck, you must uncarry your baggage.”
The tree stated blandly without emotion or affection. My heart fell into a strange beating pattern, something was not right warned my gut. With a vicious snarl, the tree outstretched its thin branches and shook me with a mighty force. Suddenly the limes formed a shape of a furious colossal warrior, with the swift thrust of his arm he threw me across the ground. Down, down, down I spiralled. The limes following me as wounded soldiers desperate to destroy anyone. Their juice burning my eyes. Uncarry what? Flustered, I rub my temples in the hope some semblance of sanity would follow. None came. As I continued to spin out of control, I notice a trail of loaded bags scattered behind me. I pick up a lime and toss it. Another smacks me hard in the chest. I scream in shock at the sudden attack.
“What am I missing?” I ask.
The lime freezes mid attack, in slight amusement, it flicks its loosely hanging leaf out of its way. My impatience grows at this impending defeat.
“You have to let go. It’s that simple. Stop resisting.”
“I am not fighting you!” I snap.
“Oh yes, yes, yes! you are! We’re not fighting you. You fight us. We only defend ourselves”, it spits back.
The brief truce over. It leaps on my forehead, snarling before it jumps into the crowd again. What was I missing? I was on new path, my mutual compromise with food was in motion. So what next? Baggage? As my fruit bashing continues, I sink into the ground. Resistance is futile, right? The moment, I relax so does the chaos. A sprinkle of rain gushes over my sticky face.
“This is about your state of ‘being’ not ‘having’.”
It was the rain, it spoke to me before lightning broke. My inner turmoil faltering at the precise moment. In order to live an authentic life, I would need to unload my baggage. This confrontation was a battle of my own making. I wanted a new beginning, yet unknowingly I was holding on to the baggage of my old self. It wasnt going to allow progress. The past didn’t know how too. I no longer wanted to “have”, I wanted to be. This was when the Zen Mistress, called me. Her breathless words, rattling against the wind.
“Declutter your life, your mind, your soul. Do not carry what you no longer need in your heart, in your home, in your life. Let it be.”
This was the point I was missing. I couldn’t actualise my new life when I was adamant in carrying baggage. My rebirth would continue to resist until I could remove the toxic baggage I wore. But how?
“Uncomplicate it. We need nothing in excess. We need less, we want more.”
Her melody snapping me from a subconscious coma, I hadn’t even realised I was drifting in. I had to minimise my life. I didn’t need things, I just hadnt fully comprehended my wants. I swallow, strangely nervous.
“Will you please pick me up?” I ask.
The tree extends a branch, roughly yanking me up.
“Thank you.” I mutter watching the limes suspiciously.
I step away, my palms in the air. My thoughts in a tizzy. It was time to declutter my life. I could leap naked into the unknown or savour some sentimental treasures but I had to make a start somewhere. I turn around one last time to find the limes grinning at me. I pray the Zen Mistress is close-by, round two in a fruit war wasnt appealing at all.
Sometimes truth evades us, other times we deliberately ignore it. However, we cannot grow if we do not face our own realities. It is not weak to give up things or people who no longer serve us. It will however, take time to be accustomed to our new ways. The pleasure is in the process. I had to find that before I could go anywhere.
I appreciate the Zen Mistress and her accidental wisdom. It charged my spirit with a direction that was least expected. I have always wanted a simple way of life. So now I can move beyond thought into the active building of a reality where I am unbound to consumption, collection, confusion. Happily my small feet can skip on to next stage in the optimism that the limes will be in a better mood next time. I wish.
Find your own Zen Mistress, you can find mine below. May her gentle calmness sooth your buzzing nerves too.
No more lime wars for now.
Zen Mistresses world:
Ps. I must share the Tin Man dance, I can’t wait to be able to do my own. Enjoy my fellow warriors.