Courage

"Come child, let me take you out and away for a while. It'll remind you what you're doing this for. And it will give you courage."

"Courage, grandma? Don't I have it already?

"Of course you do, child. This will remind you of it, and of the truth. That tends to be forgotten later on. This way, when you think of the things you'll be thinking about, you'll see what you're thinking about."

"Grandma, you're confusing me. Can't we stay here? I like it next to you. I want to hear more about my triggers and what I'm to do with them when they're pulled."

"We'll be back, love. This is what you've asked me to do. You've forgotten that you arranged this."

I didn't remember that at all. What I did remember was how warm and safe it was next to her and I sure didn't want anything to stop that. "Maybe we could just have a summer scene?"

The thin creature beside me laughed a gently, almost tinkling laugh. I hardly ever heard her laugh. When I did it made me feel so happy like a warm cover over me keeping away the plans I'd made, the experiences I'd selected, and the very possible ostracizing I'd face.

"We'll use any scene you wish, child. After we get back."

We whooshed away. Out of the cocoon and past the sky out to the cosmos and beyond. We kept going, kept whooshing until all the stars and planets melted into one great light. We rolled and soared and rolled some more as great wells of energy rose up through us and around us until eventually if we'd been breathing, we'd have been breathless.

The scene around me was astounding. Familiar in one sense and completely foreign in another. I felt like a five year old and an adult as the two consciousness inside me fought for supremacy. Fought to see who was the most moved.

I relaxed. Child me, in her wonder, won. "Grandma, what is this place? It's so beautiful."

Lights burst and twinkled in a deep blue while lights in orange and yellow and purple and the other colours, the ones beyond the spectrum that earth eyes can't see, danced around us to the music that surrounded them.

"Can you hear it, child? Use your inner ear."

The knowing, the contact, the long golden cord that connects everything with everyone at every time. Where was it? Did I still have it? Adult me worried while child me took over again.
"I hear it. I hear it. The high hum. Oh, it's so beautiful. I don't want to ever leave."

"This is what you keep inside you, child. This is what connects you. It is what gives you courage when the darkness of youth and ignorance try to shut you down and force you to live within its comfortable limitations."

Lights streaked by. A great well of energy and love flowed through me, illuminating my body and beside me, grandma's body became incandescent.

"Look, child," and she pointed finger toward a small dot of light so far away. "Remember that. In the great scope of infinity, remember that. It will reinforce your courage. You know what courage is?"

"Tell me, grandma."

"It's the thing you do when your mind tells you not to, but you know it's right so you do it anyway. Will you remember that, child? It'll be the message in your heart that says do it anyway."

"Will I hear this when I do? I want to."

She didn't say anything. Instead she reached for my hand and we were back in the cozy place and it was raining outside. A glorious downpour with rivers cascading off the ends of the roof.

"I'll remember, grandma."

"I know you will, child."