On the path to self-discovery, I can’t say that I found myself.
No, not yet.
I’m waiting still for that angel to come down again to tell me that the white rabbit is late for the second time.
I won’t feel any pity for myself when I realize that the time will come for me to say goodbye, to those who love me most.
I am ready to venture out to new and unfamiliar paths, to see the world, to experience what it has to offer— to be free.
The scallop shell points the way, hidden so cleverly that one would think it wasn’t there if one weren’t looking for it.
It hides in the gravel, in the sky, the birthmark of an animal, or the bark of a tree.
It floats sometimes, upwards, towards the heavens, and then I see it in the clouds.
It is the North Star at night— strange, mystifying, and beautiful.
I am obsessed with it. I am possessed by it. I am yearning for it.
It is my goal. But,
When, will it be mine?
The way is not always clear, to me, but my Self.
My Self, Atman, “the innermost, the eternal” that dwells within us all.
I know my quest: to merge my Self into unity, to seek the unknown—“the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: Om— Perfection.”