The Dark Figure: Searching

Nearly a year had passed since my encounter with the dark figure in the alley. I was visiting with my friend Tong from Taiwan and had all but tucked the memory away somewhere between the Stinking Gum (a menacing creature from childhood stories my grandmother had told me) and Bloody Mary; somewhere between fact and fiction. I wasn’t quite sure how I should categorize it; but it was about to become clearer.

Tong had spent his early childhood in Taiwan, before his mother met and married an American Airman. They then came to settle in Texas.

During my visit with Tong, something prompted him to share a childhood memory. He described his school in Taiwan; how it sat in a forest surrounded by trees, and the winding dirt road that led up to it. The school was of simple structure, little more than four walls and a leaky ceiling, with a small wooden outhouse out back. It was from that outhouse that Tong witnessed something he’d never forget.

He had gone there during recess while his classmates played at the front of the schoolhouses. He could faintly hear their laughter in the distance, while he searched for a clean spot on the filthy stool.

The walls of the outhouse were weathered and full of knotholes, a small distraction from the stool’s moistness and smothering scent. He peered out through a perfectly round knothole that set directly in front of him; out into the thick forest that set behind the school.

Something suddenly moved at the edge of the forest, gliding unnaturally, a dark figure that appeared to be looking for something.

“I could hear it thinking inside my head,” Tong’s voice cracked, and my stomach sank. Memories of my encounter in the alley came rushing back… and Tong now had my undivided attention. He used his right hand to demonstrate in the air how the creature glided around the trees, fast and then slow. “It was blacker than anything I had ever seen,” he said, and my eyes began to well.

“Is this really happening?” I thought, not saying a word, “Is he describing the same creature?”

Perhaps the creature has a special interest in children; that with its ability to read minds and project its thoughts, it is also capable of entering dreams and planting thoughts – so that it may observe how the subject acts upon them.

Tong continued... describing how the creature searched. “I don’t know what it was looking for,” he said.

The creature then moved out from the trees… and suddenly halted. Tong could hear the laughter of his classmates moving closer. The creature had also heard it. Tong adjusted his forehead against the weathered wall and refocused his right eye through the knothole. Still in disbelief, he watched as the creature glided back into the forest.

Surging Spirits Restrained

This heat is suffocating; how it wells up from within my soul, silently… and longingly spilling out emotions that cannot be acted upon, quelled nor captured nay by my tongue nor will, only their salty wet footprints that soon evaporate from all but memory. My attempts to decipher them are pointless, for they are primitive and I am compelled by logic. In this crowded room of strangers and artificial surging winds, my passion burns lonely, while logic hushes in all sincerity I long.

The Dark Figure

Perhaps it was some sort of stalker with special abilities; capable of reading minds, moving at the speed of thought, and disappearing in the blink of an eye. With its ability to read minds, it could follow closely behind its subject, and then vanish at the instant the subject thinks of turning around. I however had a quirky way of suddenly turning without reason or thought.

Our encounter occurred one summer afternoon while I was walking in the alley behind our house. Impulsively, I suddenly spun around, and there it was standing before me. It apparently had been observing me from behind. And because my turning was not premeditated, my thoughts had not pre-warned it to vanish. I had caught it completely off guard.

It resembled a man, but it was clearly something else. It stood approximately seven feet tall, had broad shoulders, and was darker than any color I had ever seen. It felt as though I was looking into another dimension; that if I had stepped through it, I would have been in another place. I could not see its expression, for it had no facial features, eyes, nose, nor mouth. But it was clearly alarmed. I know this because I could somehow hear its thoughts.

“I should not be seen!” its thoughts cried out.

The creature then trembled before me; not because it was afraid of me, but because it had broken an important rule. It was suppose to stealthily observe and never be seen, and now it had to answer to something I could not see. It had a superior.

In disbelief, I stared at the dark figure - and oddly, I did not feel threatened by it. Through its loud thoughts, I knew that it meant me know harm.

“What are you?” I thought, knowing that it could hear.

It did not answer.

Instead, it tremble faster, vibrating from left to right. It was trying to decide which directoin to flee; and it appeared to be unaccustomed to making sudden decisions on its own.

It then began communicating with what I could not see - and I realized that it and I were not alone.

“What shall I do!” its thoughts cried, not directed at me.

I sensed that it somehow had the ability to erase what had happened, but it was not authorized to do so. It was still caught up in its dilemma, whether to go left or right. It did not consider simply vanishing.

The entire encounter lasted approximately eight seconds before the creature decided to flee to its left, into a green shed that stood to my right. It didn’t run like a man. Instead it glided through the wall as though it was cutting through dimensions. I ran after it, to the far side of the shed to see if it would come out the other side. But it did not. I then looked back at the spot where I had first seen the dark figure, and wondered if it had been my imagination.

Nearly a year later, another event would remove all my doubts.

Bitter Fruit

How many times will history repeat itself? How they maneuver; convinced that they are what they describe themselves to be, righteous because they smile, not due to their deeds. My wounds still ache from their last assault, and yet they return bearing sweet words and bitter fruit. Their eyes speak another tongue, almost disarming, that I might doubt myself. “They want that thy gates shall fall,” the angel whispers. They have never failed to strike my lowered guard; yet, I wonder if perhaps this time they truly want peace. But how can I trust them? “Seek ye not peace in soft words,” she says, “Nor in warm eyes… for they believe themselves righteous, while their deeds seek thy destruction. Look only to their deeds.”

The Source of Their Strength – II

I prepared my strategy, and gathered the tools I believed I’d need to confront my demons. The angel’s words “put them out” echoed in my thoughts and brought me sporadic comfort. But that was not enough. Not thinking of my demons would not undo their work. “They must be brought into the light,” she says, “Else they will return.” I finished preparing my tools – and when I was ready, I entered the arena of light. I was prepared for a confrontation, but there was none. My demons had been unjust; and sustained by lies that cannot stand in the light. Therefore, there was little need for me to speak. I put down my tools and my demons were undone.

The Source of Their Strength - I

Sometimes I forget how clever demons can be; their warm smiles and eyes that shed crocodile tears, how insincere they are, ever plotting for the advantage. No matter what they say, or do, they never forget their enemies, and I find myself bitter in their company, tormented by my own thoughts of them. “Must thee engage them in the dark?” my angel whispers, concerned that these thoughts clutter my mind. “Put them out - away from thee,” she says, “Show me thy mortal demons, that they may be undone by the light.” I gaze out the window; outside myself, and my concerns shrink. In the light, my thoughts are busied by good people moving about their day, the beauty of nature, and children at play. It is comforting – but my thoughts then drift back to the dark and the pain returns. “The source of thy pain is in thee,” the angel whispers, “Not in thy enemies. Put them out… and thy pain shall be undone.

The Servant's Path

I made my decision last night. I took a step down the path I have chosen, and I did not feel the pain she has promised. In its stead, there was relief. I looked inside my heart and asked, “Where is the pain?” I then looked up ahead and saw that my chosen path has other forks. “It awaits thee beyond yon junction,” she whispers.

Heart of Wings

Lovingly, she comforts me amidst disorder and troubled times. Soothing and confident; she whispers, “Have faith…” My thoughts have been weary and doubtful of myself; yet in silence she consoles. She knows my heart; it’s where she resides, navigating my dreams where hope and destiny collides. I suppose it makes sense, that because she knows my strengths weaknesses and fears, when I am doubtful of myself, I may believe in she who believes in me. “Yes…” she whispers, “Trust in thy heart…” her powerful wings outstretched, “For I am within thee… and through me, ye may rise above earthly fears...”

The Servant

Another disappointment pushes me ever closer to a decision, and she whispers, “What will you do?” I’m tired, and there is a lump rising in my throat. It feels good, these surges of emotions that remind me I’m alive, and the coolness that gathers in my eyes. I blink, and water rolls down my cheeks. No one can see; and how my spirit stands in silence at this fork in my journey. “It is time,” she whispers, “This one is yours.” In the past I have allowed others to decide for me. That is the coward’s way, and foolish to serve while thy own heart and spirit is in jeopardy. “Either path will bring pain,” she whispers, my guardian angel, my conscience, “Slow steady misery for yourself and others, or the ache of knowing that your path brings sorrow to another.” I don’t know what I’ll find down either path, destinations are unknown. I only know that my heart is heavy. Whom shall I serve?

Chasing Clouds

An angel approached me from behind and placed her hand on my shoulder as I looked out at my work. I was feeling down… but her touch was warm and uplifting to the spirit. It was a dream, and my mood could be described with one word. Lost…

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked. But she did not answer. She only watched with me, as more of my past deeds appeared before us.

I began to complain that accomplishing those deeds had brought me little gratification, and that I am seldom satisfied.

She interrupted.

“How do you select your deeds… your goals?” Her voice was strong and yet soothing… how it called me away from my troubles. I saw myself standing below us – and I remembered how I had felt.

I did not answer her question directly. Instead, I tried to explain that my goals help to focus my energies.

She interrupted again.

“Focus, or distract?” she said. I thought about her question as she continued, “If you commit yourself to chasing clouds, to the extent that pursuing them becomes your identity, you will be lost when they evaporates.”

I didn’t fully understand.

“Distract?” I said… puzzled, “Distract me from what?”

“It is important… how you select your goals and invest your energies,” she said, “United, they pursue higher objectives? Divided, they distract from one another.”

“The objective is happiness,” I said without thinking.

“Happiness?” she shrugged. Her voice then became stern, “If happiness is your objective, then why do you not feel incrementally content as you accomplish small steps towards it? Do you believe that your path true?” she looked into my eyes – her eyes were as deep as the ocean, “Does it follow the plan?”

“The plan…?”

“Yes…” still looking into my eyes, “I know that you know…” Then in silence we waited… while I wondered what she was thinking – and what she was thinking of me.

“Is it selfish to seek happiness?” I asked.

“Selfish…” her voice hauntingly echoed, “Would not seeking to make others happy be more fulfilling?”

“Yes…” I nodded… understanding and slightly ashamed.

“What is the meaning of life…” she said, “If not to nourish it? The plan is only that you should love.”

Pursuing a relationship is sometimes like chasing a cloud. If the relationship does not develop, the pursuer is left feeling lost. Like love, clouds are not to be chased and captured - and unlike clouds, love is always within our reach. It was Buddha that said, “When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.”