We Are Not Alone, Part II

With my classmate’s permission, I take his hand in mine. “We will not be going far, dear friend.”

“Why can’t Teacher just tell me what I need to know? I mean, really, do you need to show me? What do I have to see that I can’t do on my own?” His words remind me of the irreverent student he is in the classroom, but his hand remains firmly in mine.

“Teacher cannot tell you because he doesn’t know how to meditate. He doesn’t need to because he’s already in that world we try to reach.”

We approach a park bench in the school’s flower garden and I face him, hovering my free hand over his chest. “May I place my hand on you?”

He nods, suddenly silent.

“Our existence is different from our teacher’s.” My hand settles on his chest, just over where his heart beats. “We live here. We feel here. Our existence is so solid and heavy.”

Under my hand, his heart pounds. “I can feel your heart beating,” I say. He nods. “In the place where Teacher exists away from us, they don’t need to touch to feel what the other feels. All they need is permission, like you’ve given me today.”

My classmate chokes softly on his thoughts before, “How do I tell my friends that it’s okay to be with me? I mean, that’s what I want to do, right?”

“I believe that’s what you want. You believe you are alone in this world, going through the hardships inherent in our existence, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You aren’t, you know. You not only have those of us in this plane of existence.” I nod to signify I mean myself. “You also have those friends in Teacher’s plane. They walk with you and help you –”

“I don’t feel them,” he interrupts.

“I know. That’s why we’re here.” I hold his hand again and lead him down the graveled path that winds around the gardens. “You don’t need to walk in the gardens to talk to your spirit guides. This is just a good way to start.”

I turn toward him and look into his eyes to get a firm sense of whether he’s ready. He nods, his eyes solidly locked with mine.

“Let’s find a place to sit.” We roam the gardens and finally settle under a large banyan tree that has shed some of its leaves, making a soft bed underneath. We relax within the reds, the oranges, the yellows that were once on its branches and then, “Trust me, okay?” I ask.

He nods.

“Alright, close your eyes and breathe, my friend. Become still, forgetting everything that angers you.”

His breaths start coming slowly.

“Concentrate on your breaths, rhythmically inhaling to the count of three, then releasing each breath slowly.”

“And now imagine. You are going for walk through a forest. The tall evergreen trees rustle around you, as if a breeze is blowing through their branches.

“You’ve found a path, well-worn from the steps of generations that have walked before and yet all around is still pristine. The walkers who came before respected this land where the green trees grow. As you walk in their steps, you feel their existence through your footfalls. Each step takes you closer into the world where these predecessors live now.”

“Your steps guide you deeper into the darkness of the forest, and yet the light from the sun passing overhead is still able to break through the branches. You can catch glimpses of the brilliant indigo blue sky. The sunlight guides you to a clearing where a white light brighter than the sun emanates from a spot in the center.” I take one long breath, letting the image settle. “Do you see the light?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Now you can talk to your friends. Welcome them. Thank them. Ask them for guidance. Ask them for help. Now that you’ve found them, only you can shut the door between you. They love you, dear one. Now I will let you continue your meditation on your own. When you are ready, you only need to walk back out of this forest. I will be waiting for you in the bed of leaves.”

I stay with my classmate for a very long time until he is ready to leave, then I hold him as he sobs with the joy that comes once the realization of an eternal love hits you.

Namaste, dear friends.

Much love,

The Dragonfly’s Student

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