A Recluse No More

It took Liya six months to write her third book. She gave a copy of the manuscript to Andrew to edit and comment. As expected he was amazed by its contents and her poetic prose. He sat with her one evening and asked if she remembered what she wrote on one page, from her chapter titled ‘Transformation’. She asked, “Can you please read it out loud, I don’t always remember what I write. The prose flows from within me and I let it run”. Liya was sitting comfortably on an armchair when Andrew read: “I lived like an owl in the dark horrors of the night, and yearned to see the true light of the day. I begged for rescue from my deadly fears, and dreamed of life that was passing me by. I trembled from the demons that disguised my soul, and robbed me the joys of dancing in the light. I lived in silence and had no song to sing, or words to utter. Yet, the long deep sorrow I had felt, suddenly jumped out and left me to experience its brother joy. I looked deeply in my heart, and desperately searched for the forgotten love within my soul, only to find that both my sorrow and my joy dwelled next to one another, in my cocoon of uncelebrated life. I grasped the joy with one hand and asked for its pure delight. I hung on to its wings while it flew me out from my dark cave. Then, I met mighty Love calling on me loud, and I awakened from my deep sleep, and I followed gracefully. I chose to wear the crown of Love’s beauty on my head, and I opened my heart to honor its sweet influence. I tasted Love’s potion that generously healed my mind and cherished the gradual change to my life. Love demanded nothing from me, in return. It confidently kicked out my fears, and reclaimed its sacred shrine to lead me through… Now I awaken with a smile, and I give thanks to another day that ends with gratitude, a gift to my prayer before I sleep. I do not to see the dreadful owls of the night, nor do I miss the sadness of my old recluse. The door to the dark room was closed and locked, and now I swim in the brightness of light. I sing my songs with the birds and I dance in the warmth of the sun…” With limited success in the Congress, Liya realized that she’s more shadow boxing than achieving permanent changes on a national legislative basis. After thorough deliberation with her inner voice, she sat down with her husband Andrew one evening and said, “I decided not to run for a second term. I find the political system a hard nut to crack. It’s a slow and frustrating process to bring about firearms reform that would benefit all Americans. I’m used to making quick decisions on the projects I control, and I prefer to have a simpler life as such. Besides, I have enough on my plate to do: perhaps to start a family, to write more books and to supervise the activities of both the museum and the foundation. These are projects that I really love doing!” “I highly respect your decision, despite the disappointment by many of your colleagues and constituents who would prefer you to stay,” Andrew responded. “I also want to start writing my third poetic book. I would like to incorporate in it highlights about my personal life, and I would encourage readers to focus on what is truly meaningful and enlightening. I might cast few shadows on my incomplete political career and the frustrations that come along with it,” Liya responded. “Again, I’m with you all the way.” “You know Andrew, life taught me how to be strong and hopeful. I went through a lot in my recent past: the loss of my parents and my long absence from social life; the school shooting and the loss of my friend Linda; the struggle with my own sexuality and the disappointments with Tom and Charles; the scary illness of my dear governess Melissa; and most recently the limited success in my political career… Liya calmly embraced her true simple calling and lived happily in the present moment. Her joy was induced by her mission to serve others, in prose as well as in good deeds. She realized that every moment counts in her new space of happiness, and accepted life in the NOW, and as such she permanently let go of what was before, and eager to what is yet to come.