Illusions are real in their ways, and reality part a party of illusions. I held a one-man private ceremony as the sun set, not at the location of this video, however, this sunset was another, elsewhere.
I let the final handfuls of atoms in my possession rejoin the earth, speaking my prepared words, remembering love, laughter, lessons and shared intentions. The view (not pictured) was spectacular, arguably the best I’ve seen on this world and the weather was perfect, all fitting, signs of rightness. Voices echoed from distant faces of ice and were then gone.
I next added an element of chance, asking the God of this simulation for guidance, blindly opening a good book while pointing to a passage. No one could fix or influence this, there was no cheating possible, no do-overs on my part. I saw the answer in black and white.
Time cannot be turned, but the heart can recall, after an appropriate span, with help and by grace, it’s former lighter steps.
Returning to me for a time after the fulfilled event was an old younger self, one that could feel genuine joy, one that could play, inventing ice caves and imaginary beasts in the snow. I was now, alone, what I too often looked to others for years in hopes to become: myself, simply content to be here.