He looked at me, his eyes filled with a yearning for understanding, and said, “Show me how.” I tilted my head, a soft smile playing on my lips, “Show you what?” His voice was but a whisper, “The wisdom, the awareness, the ability to see the whole picture without words… those blissful eyes of yours, always in awe, always in love, quick to smile. You’ve got problems too, but how?”

I paused, my gaze drifting to the horizon as I pondered his words. Then, with a gentle sigh, I turned back to him, “I don’t think I can show you, but you must realize that you already have it. How can I teach you how to swim when you’re already swimming? Yet, all you perceive is drowning — drowning in thoughts that you believe, that control your every action and reaction. Those thoughts, you can’t make them go away, but you don’t have to invest emotions on them as they come.”

I gestured to the world around us, “You see it every day, people getting all riled up emotionally, even violently at times… why? For what? Because they believed the thoughts. You’ve probably heard others say ‘control your thoughts’ but this cannot be done, all you can do is stop believing them. And when you’re convinced of this then you’ll see what you have left.”

He looked at me, confusion etched on his face, “What?” I couldn’t help but laugh, a joyous sound that echoed through the stillness, “Life!” I exclaimed, “The flow of life manifesting in all its grandeur as it should, which before was constrained by the disconnection of self-absorbed thoughts. See this and free yourself — free yourself and continue swimming in this vast ocean of consciousness…in awareness, in connection, in love, in acceptance, in gratitude, in the flow of serendipity.”

And with that, I left him standing there, his eyes wide with realization, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he finally understood. He was not drowning, he was swimming. He was not lost, he was found. He was not alone, he was connected. And in that moment, he was free. Free to live, free to love, free to be.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer

Dry Pastel Art