When walking the path of the Alchemist, it all sounds lovely and exciting and mystical, and then you die one night. And your world is burnt to the ground. And there is no one there to pick you up. There is no one there who understands. And the ones that you think do, because they might be your friends, but they are not on the same path, well, they just judge and condemn and crucify.
And so you pick yourself up from the ashes, determined to rise again. And in time, you do, you rise and you rise and you rise some more. Things are good for a while. You see things differently, clearly, and looking back it all makes sense, it all seems quite perfect and magical really, because that is the path that you had to traverse in order to be at this perfect point of looking backwards and seeing the beauty and the necessity of your own death, and your own resurrection. And even though it is perfection, things look different. The people that were once there are no longer. And so you ache. And then you finally surrender. You shrug your shoulders and let what will be be. You turn back around and you actually have a skip to your step, a lightness to your being and you find yourself whistling.
Is this happiness you wonder?
Is this the perfection of the death and the burn and the loss and the letting go... the no turning back? And then when you think you have made it just another few steps, you look around. You believe that the ones that are still left standing next to you are the ones you can trust.
And then the next thing you know, you share your story, your path, your moments, your highs, your lows, your wins, your sins, your crimes, your weaknesses, your humanness, all of your triumphs, trials and tribulations of awakening. And the thing about awakening is that it is not always pretty. People get hurt. You get hurt. And you hurt others.
The weeding continues. You get weeded from them, and they get weeded from you. Gardening becomes important. And inventory must be taken. Because we were told once upon a time ago that snakes can get in. That they can trick you into taking bites out of the illusion.
And then you burn and burn and burn them to the ground. And your garden catches on fire. And then your house. And then you, you are also on fire. And the blaze consumes it all right before your eyes. And the nightmare and the pain and the relentlessness of it all brings you to your knees. And you cry and you scream and it happens anyways no matter what you do to put it out. Because this fire cannot be put out. No matter what you do. Because once the fire of the Alchemist is lit, it always stays lit.
And there is no turning back.
And no one tells you this.
Because if they did, you would have chosen a different path. One of roses and fairy tales and happy endings. Because the path of the Alchemist is not for the faint hearted. This path and the happy ending that you thought it had was also a part of the illusion. And then you feel tricked until you realize it is not illusion at all. You realize after you have died for the second, third and fourth time, that it was hidden so deep in the mystery that the burning away of the illusion was the only thing that could have revealed it to you. And so you stand there, burnt to a crisp, afraid to open your eyes, because this time you may very well be all alone. And to look back and see if there is anyone left standing becomes the most excruciating pain and fear and loss that one could ever experience.
To look back and see or to keep your eyes closed?
This is a question on the precipice of another step in the direction of this path of alchemy, where everything is on fire, everyone is probably gone and really you have no one to blame and thank but yourself. And really, is it even worth telling anyone anything anymore? Is there ever anyone you can truly trust?
Is trust an illusion?
Must I continue burning and burning and burning until this trust no longer exists? Until I can stand in the raging flame of truth and realize there is only one truth that is worth standing in and standing alone with? And this truth is that no one can ever know this truth until they choose the path of the Alchemist. Until they themselves do the choosing, the walking, the burning, the dying, the rising, the looking back and then standing in the truth that they are the only one left.
That I am the only one.
The fear and the freedom in this is both excruciating and liberating all at the same time. And really, how can anyone know this place until they themselves have stood here? And how can you expect anyone to choose this path of alchemy? If you told them the hell you created and then had to walk through and out of, in barely one piece, they would never join you.
They would choose the roses. And I have chosen the thorns. Wearing it naked in the dark might be the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I know this is not the end. Because it is just the beginning.
And this is where I stand.
Alone Alien Alchemist
And death, when dying is essential, is a flame of unfathomable pain, fear and loss. It is gut wrenching, heart wrenching and soul wrenching to the core of your entire being, your entire knowing, your entire world.
After a few deaths, one would think it gets easier, that you would become more used to it. And the only thing of use is a glimmer, a tiny light, a faint spark of hope. Hope, that in the end, after the aftermath, after the smoke clears and after you find the courage to open your eyes again, that the ones you love the most are still there.
And when you open your eyes, emptiness is all that remains. It is all that is left. An empty house that is no longer standing. An empty heart that is no longer full or whole. An empty mind that has removed the illusion and the illusionists. An empty wellspring that no longer has tears. A body that no longer remains.
And all that is left is a Soul that still burns. This Soul, this Flame, this Fire, this nemesis of everything you once knew is your very own thorn in your side. And you hate it to your core. And you love it to your core. And somehow, through it all, you respect it. You admire it. You fear it. And you are in total awe and wonder of it. If it can do all of this and still "I" remains, then the only question left is what can it not do?
What will it do next...
International Intuitive Healer
Photo Credit: Jack Warren
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