Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (21 page)

As he stood near the base of the mountain, John felt its strength, it’s unchanging and enduring magnificence. Stone spires rose high into the sky like ancient watch towers. Large rock outcroppings lay balanced at the foot of the mountain like the spreading roots of a giant tree. Amid the stone roots rested many large boulders, they stood like sentinels, alert for trespassers, but ready to guide the deserving. John was no trespasser. He was invited. He felt the invitation flow through him like current, undeniable, complete, and necessary. The strength of the place, the safety and security it offered, was a feeling of sanctuary so complete that he dare not turn away. John noticed a gap in the boulders and walked to it.

The gap was the beginning of a straight and narrow trail that led up the side of the mountain. He followed it as it began to wind around and between several large boulders, all bigger than a house, and all of them clean and smooth, as if placed in a manicured rock garden. After a short walk, the trail emerged into a comfortable clearing, a little larger than a tennis court. Around the clearing, natural stone walls rose thirty feet into the air, creating a fortress like feeling. Despite the potentially confining nature of the space, it made John feel safe and secure. It was like standing inside the walls of a mighty castle or fortress. Feelings of security, of finding a place to sit down and think, to meditate, grew strong within him. It was the mountain. It was still singing to him. He saw no bench, but standing in the middle of the clearing was a stone column. It was at least twice John’s height, and wide enough that he couldn’t clasp his hands around it.

John approached the column to study it more closely. Depending on where he looked at the stone column, the color and hue would change. Fine quartz-like crystals shined within the black surface of
the column, creating an impression of a star lit night sky. But then, from a different angle, the stone surface looked more like a summer day, with streaks of gold running through dark brown marble. And then again, from a different angle, veins of blue through green stone. Again and again the appearance of the column changed, but always beautiful to look upon. He had never seen a more beautiful, or alive, element of stone.

He approached the column and ran his hands over its smooth surface. A tangible feeling of strength and security filled him like never before. It was as if all the strength of the earth was present in this single column of stone. John had never before felt so much power and majesty in such a seemingly benign object, but he immediately realized that it wasn’t benign. The column represented more than mere stone and rock, it represented the entire earth, as if it was the spiritual embodiment of its physical existence. The stone column was of great spiritual importance.

With both hands resting on the stone column, absorbing its magnificence, John turned and saw, for the first time, a gate. The gate also called to him, but he was drawing so much comfort from the stone column that he didn’t want to remove his hands from its surface. Finally, and with great reluctance, John released first one hand, and then the other, and walked to the gate. The gate looked very sturdy, and heavy. It was made of some unknown metal, nearly twice his height and five feet wide. It sat mounted to a natural stone archway, though it had neither hinge, nor handle. The gate was a solid and unyielding obstacle before him, a barrier to the path up the mountain.

John wondered if he could push the gate open, so he reached up to lean against it with extended hands. When he touched the gate he recoiled in surprise. John felt fear, sharp and immediate, and very strong. It filled his heart and mind so quickly and powerfully, so personally, that he stepped back and looked behind him to see if an unseen enemy was about to strike him down.

Seeing no enemy, John examined the palms of his hands. Thinking they were damaged from the contact, he wiggled his fingers and made them into fists to test their status. When he saw he was undamaged, John examined the gate more closely. There was nothing new or different about it. It hadn’t changed. It still looked smooth, cold, and ready for his contact.

He wondered what it was about the gate that made him feel so much fear. As John cleared his mind, he began to realize that the gate was a test; that he would only be able to pass through it if he conquered it, conquered fear itself. He steeled himself for the contact and leaned forward to push against the gate for a second time. The feeling of fear returned, but even stronger this time. John didn’t pull away. Dreading an even bigger effect if he failed, he refused to pull his hands away.

Fear gripped his heart and filled his mind, but still, he did not pull away. John was no stranger to fear, and he refused to let it conquer him. It washed over him in waves, and made him feel as if he lost control of his life, that he was a victim, someone to be abused, mistreated, tortured and killed. John feared losing his possessions, his family, and his life. All his childhood fears came rushing back to him in snapshot moments of total recall, only to be followed by the associative fears of his entire adult life.

The fear of not finding true love stabbed at his heart, but the fear of death, of dying in combat, of leaving his family alone, pained him powerfully. Every fear that John ever knew flooded into his mind, and burned into his soul like hot coals. But still, he refused to yield to the Gate of Fear. He refused to let it control him, but he was beginning to tire. He was losing the fight with the gate, and it was surging, about to overcome him once again.

As John neared the point of abandon, the point in which he felt he couldn’t endure the gate a moment longer, he remembered the stone column. The strength he drew from it, how it made him feel capable despite the challenge of fear, began to fill his heart. He embraced that feeling and felt fear begin to ebb away. Drawing on the power of the
stone column, on the strength and security of the earth, John began to push his fear away. He opened his eyes, not realizing that he had closed them during his struggle, and looked at the gate.
It’s a gate. That’s it. Nothing more
. In that moment of clarity, he conquered his fears. He let them go, and when he did, the gate swung open under the weight of his hands.

Surprised by the gate’s sudden release, John almost fell through and landed face first on the trail. He caught himself, and with a cautious step forward, he peered tentatively through the gateway. After having experienced such fear, he wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side. He peeked around the edge and looked up the trail. Everything looked fine. The trail before him continued up the mountain in a steady but gentle climb.

John passed through the gate, and was about to continue up the trail when he felt an overwhelming desire to seal it shut behind him. It was more than closure for him, it was about leaving his fears behind, and protecting himself and the trail. The feeling was strong, one he couldn’t ignore, so he turned and closed the gate. John heard the seal reset as soon as the gate was closed, but he placed his hand against it anyway, to test the lock. His hand grew instantly hot and began to glow red as if made of molten metal. Startled, John withdrew his hand and saw that he left behind a glowing handprint. He watched as his handprint cooled and faded to leave little more than an outline on the backside of the gate. Without realizing it, John had sealed the gate with his personal mark.

With the gate of fear shut firmly behind him, John realized he was on a one-way journey. The thought of it didn’t concern him, because he was far more curious about what lay ahead than his pre-determined direction. But one thing was very clear to John, he had conquered fear.

He walked effortlessly along the trail, much more comfortable and confident than he was when he first started. He didn’t know what other challenges would await him on his journey up the mountain, but he knew it was something that needed to happen. Passing through
the gate of fear released something within him, it purged him of some kind of blockage. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but it felt good.

John was so deep in thought about the gate of fear that he almost missed the sound of flowing water. To his left, along the side of the mountain trail, flowed a small course of water. It ran down a stone rivulet that was cut into the side of the mountain over a long period of time. The flowing water was a new and welcome companion as he continued his climb up the trail.

John turned a corner in the trail and entered another clearing. He stopped and reverently studied the clearing. He looked up and saw, emerging high up on the side of the mountain, a tall, white ribbon of water falling into a pool high above. From that pool fell another fall, but it fell clean and clear, like a glass curtain. The water gathered in a large stone pool at the side of the mountain. It looked cool and inviting.

At the far end of the pool, the water spilled out and traveled down the stone rivulet alongside the trail. John walked to the edge of the pool and knelt. The sight and sound of the water soothed him. He looked at his reflection and was surprised to see such clarity in himself, and in the water. Curious, John grabbed a handful of white sand and tossed it into the pool. He watched as the water swirled and mixed with the sand, and how the sand momentarily changed the clarity of the water, but then the water was able to push the sand aside and clean itself.

John rinsed his hands in the pool, and he felt the life giving properties of water. He knew it was special water, because it felt different than the water in the lake. He drank the water from cupped hands and was filled with a feeling of confidence and passion, of a desire to commit, and be fulfilled.

John looked for and found another gate. It sat at the end of the clearing, and it looked just like the gate he had just passed through. John stood and walked to the gate. Unsure of what to expect, he tentatively placed a single hand against the gate. A muted feeling of guilt
entered his mind, so he placed his other hand on the gate. Now, with both hands firmly on the gate, the full weight of guilt entered his mind. It filled him, and communicated guilt so strongly that he began to weep. But he didn’t remove his hands. He knew what had to be done. He knew, that in order to pass through the gate, he had to endure the feeling of guilt.

When guilt filled John, he began to examine it closely, more closely than possible any other way, for it filled every fiber of his body. It was a part of him. He was guilt. The guilt of failure, of hurt and lies, of abuse and being abused, of addiction and self-gratification. He felt as if he had, once again, lost control. He saw how guilt ate away at his self-confidence and self-esteem. As guilt flowed through him, he began to question his value and purpose in life. He felt worthless and insignificant, as if he hadn’t done enough, hadn’t lived up to his full potential. A deep sadness entered his heart, a sadness magnified by guilt, and it hurt. He was a victim, helpless to control or change anything about himself, his life. He was a failure.

Then, as he had done at the previous gate, John used what he learned about the water, how it was able to cleanse itself by washing away the sand. He realized that guilt tied him to the past, to his regrets and poor decisions, and he refused to be bound by it a second longer. He allowed the life-giving properties of the water to cleanse and renew him, to rid him of his guilt. And as the water began to clean him, John felt the guilt flow away. When the last vestiges of it were gone, the gate’s seal released and John pushed it open.

John stepped through the gate and closed it. And like he did with the previous gate, the gate of fear, he sealed it with his hand. He turned and continued up the trail, his steps lighter. Confidence flowed through him. He never felt more clean and clear. It was as if he unblocked yet another obstacle that prevented him from experiencing life, of knowing truth and light, and he longed for more.

The path continued upward, gently and steadily. As John climbed casually, he began to feel a growing warmth. It was not heat, per se,
just warmth. The kind of warmth one might feel when stepping into the sunlight from the shade, or ducking inside to avoid a chill wind. Soon after, John entered another clearing, his third, and saw a fire burning on a low stone platform in the center. The fire burned freely, seemingly without a discernable source of fuel. John approached the fire and studied the flames as they danced and flicked into the air. Long tongues of yellow and orange fire reached up into the air, and like beautiful dancers, they attempted to escape the confines of their minor stage. Below the flames, a bed of bright red coals pulsed like the beat of many small hearts. It was a beautiful display, and John was enthralled.

The power of fire, its unpredictable and wild nature, how it always sought to be free, appealed to John. Without thinking of the consequences, he approached the fire and thrust his hands into the flames. Expecting to feel very intense heat, he was surprised to feel a pleasant and gentle warmth. John moved closer and saw that the flames began to reach out to him, as if they wanted to caress his body. He moved around the fire, and the flames moved with him. He allowed the flames to linger over his hands, and they did not burn. He understood how fire illuminated dark places and protected from cold. How it consumed and destroyed, but brought about new life. John wanted to feel that freedom, to embrace fire and understand it more fully. Again, before he realized what he was doing, he stepped into the flames.

The warmth of the fire washed over and through him. It was then that he finally understood what it represented. Fire was agency. It was the right and responsibility to choose, and make decisions. John felt independent, free to choose for himself, free to decide what he wanted to be, and to do. Free to explore the limits of his perceptions, and able to bring about his own happiness. He felt as free as the fire.

While standing in the fire, John turned to see the gate. He wanted to move on, to face the new challenge, so he stepped out of the fire and approached the gate. There was nothing different about the gate in appearance, but he knew it would feel different when touched.
Without hesitation, John placed both hands on the cool surface of the gate and immediately felt a strong and overpowering sense of shame.