The Other Side
He woke up the next morning on the other side; it was night but also noon. Time held no meaning here. He was resting underneath the canopy of an ancient oak. Its limbs spread out, across, and down, enveloping the sky and earth; trapping the sweet scent of soil and sunlight. He was steeped in it. The branches lashed out over the water of a rippling pond. The sunlight and stars reflected in the dreams of past and present. There was a tranquility here he had never known, but had forever longed for. Its comfort washed away doubt, and pain, and confusion, and struggle. There was only light in the darkness.
After some time, he stood, stretching his whole body from the ground to the clouds. His form felt both familiar and strange, but complete. The grass around him was high and danced in delight at his presence, pushing him forward until his toes clipped against the wooden rails of the tracks that hugged the curves of the waterway. One foot in front of the next, he walked for miles in what felt like minutes, not sure his soles even grazed the ground.
His day’s journey brought him weeks down the road, years into the future, when he came upon a building in the middle of everywhere. It was both tall and wide, white sparkling in the sunlight of the dark, specks of quartz among the limestone walls. Or maybe they were diamonds? Everything seemed a mystery, but also certain. His path to this place had traced those railway tracks; yet he had seen no train. One was due any minute, but not at all.
His trek to the entrance was harried yet hushed. He didn’t want to miss a moment of forever. The grand doors to the station were massive, carved of a dark rosy wood, aged by passings, bearing the patina of travelers from around the worlds. They all arrived here, tired and awakened. The doors worn smooth from centuries of passage at their push-points also bore words both familiar and foreign; scripts ancient and extant, etched into the grain of the tree of life. He read every letter, even the ones he didn’t recognize, because he knew they all held meaning. When he was done in an instant, a lifetime of wisdom fell into his heart. The unanswered questions of his past resolved. He pushed forward, into whatever lie ahead.
The whir of a thousand words spoken in each second overwhelmed him at first. People were everywhere and nowhere, rushing to terminals with no names. There was chaos and confusion amongst the ordered passings; he was being pulled and pushed, forward and back. Bathed in light through the masses, he eventually came to stand in front of a small door, labeled with his name, but not. The crowds had passed away behind him, and he stood there alone, waiting to turn the handle to whatever was beyond this threshold.
He was early and late arriving. There were those waiting on him, but he still felt the pull of others, elsewhere, who hadn’t been ready for him to leave. Some silent voice assured they would arrive soon after time, though, and he knew it was true. Onward he moved, into the smaller massive room meant for him.
He carried no bags but had everything he needed. He was embraced by smiling faces, new but known, memories of some distant past he wasn’t sure was his, but must be. They talked, and laughed, and remembered what he didn’t, and shared stories of tales from The Otherside, seen in passing, carried through space and time from another place he once was, to confuse and comfort.
He spent his days happy. Even when he wasn’t, he was. He’d want you to know that. There’s a wholeness you come to know when the secrets of the ages are whispered to you all at once. The universal words he’d read on those doors had been thousands, but they could be summed up in a few. ENOUGH. ONE. LOVE. We all are. It’s our essence and our calling. He could see that now, yet somehow always knew it.
As the years of the hours passed, new faces would come to find themselves at that same small door. Their paths there had been different and separate, but identical. Bound to the others by a thousand strings of light and nothing, they were called to this one space by a binding of their choosing. All tied up in love and memories and time. They would walk into this particular room to reconvene with loves and lives past. Each would arrive just in time, but late and early. It would depend who you asked.
One day, just as quickly as they had come, they would all go. Together. The foundation beneath them would quiver; anticipation of what would come next. There was a new journey to traverse. Together. He watched as a door he had never noticed before slowly opened. This time there was no one on the other side, just the rumbling of an approaching train.
One by one they all passed through the door to the platform. There was an undeniable joy circling around them. They embraced each other, laughing and smiling and joking and happy. It was time for whatever was next. As they had before, they would be together again. Their faces and forms would be different, but the same. They would know each other even when they didn’t. They would recognize the tug of some invisible twine of light, binding them together. They would remember even when they didn’t. They would love all over again.
He stepped into the light of the awaiting cabin, ready for whatever mischief there was to manage. This time would be different. They all were. But the same.
The train slowly lurched forward and he was surrounded by images of loved ones he’d known and lovers he’d yet to know. He saw himself doing things he remembered and adventures still to come. The air around him grew damp with excitement at the prospect of what was now to be. Back to The Otherside.
He had made this journey a thousand times before. If you asked him, he wouldn’t have known, but he did. He would go on to make this same journey a thousand times again. He didn’t know that yet, but he did. There would be a lifetime of lifetimes, each bringing him back here for the first time. He would do it all again. And again.
As the train picked up speed and time, the faces and voices and memories and moments-to-be began to circle around him, racing faster and faster as he went. Space and place swirled and whirled until he was once again surrounded by the blur of the light of darkness; enveloped by the sweet scent of soil and sunlight. A clay ready to be made whole again; molded into a new next.
