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With the sounds of chattering, unpleasant it became to the being of Naharre, the fourth of six siblings in a family of many. He could not make up the words that were spoken. For all spoke at once and no one spoke at a time, Naharre perceived in his mind.

If I can only find a place of solitude in this house. It is a new place of dwelling, there has to be somewhere isolated. He pounders.

Many are the doors, any door which leads away from where I am to where I want to be, will do.

At the moment, weak and feeble was his being to get up hurriedly and leave. Although his mind kept not its peace, but wanders. Even so, slowly his busy and agitated mind coincided with his feebleness, as all faded away gradually.

Could this be it, could this be my door? Naharre thought.

Though I hear the chattering, but it’s like I’m behind this solid door. Now my peace and quiet seem to be near, for me, on my time. Just the way I like, for myself.

The family’s new home differs from the lakeside home wherewith they all have come to call home for many years. Now, a new house was to be their new home.

Though the mind sees the transition before the physical body experiences a change. However, at times it is the mind which rejects the change that is at hand even though the physical body is in a new place. This new place was Woodland Shrub. The new home of Naharre and his family.

Naharre’s door led to a somewhat different presentation than the rest of the home of which his mother had articulately furnished. Though it bothered him not for a minute, but empty was the room, the pathway which Naharre’s door led him to. I can change some things here and make it my own.

The walls of this room seem a great distance away from him. However, the room was in no wise a larger place. The discovery did not end through the perception of the illusion of the walls of the room.

In the right corner of the room was the only furniture it seems, a big chair. To the far left up on the wall, was a glow clock visible in the somewhat dim atmospheric presentation of the room. Beneath the clock was a second heavy wooden constructed door.

His alone time soon became a time of suppressed questions. For those things he did not fully understand, he brazenly accepted. Thereby suppressing the many questions so that he cannot judge his actions of wanting to be away from his family. But in his mind, he ponders. How can there be two doors to a room, where does a second door take me in such a room that is partially dark?

In his consciousness, present with him was the many chattering of the voice of his family. Howbeit, the walls of this room did give him the control of the isolation he so desired. Quietly, this led to the occupying of the big chair.

The physical characteristic and the impact of the chair was instantly felt as he sunk within its cushion and formation. The ease to his physical being did not once again calm the mind as his eyes became the window to his consciences through the things he saw. Precisely, the clock in the dim light above the obscure door. Although he rested in his pasture, but his mind finds not its place of peace in the present. The glow light of the clock became a howl to his dim surrounding.

The chattering continues, seemingly guided toward him. At which point though he knew his family’s whereabouts, but they knew not his situation. The longer he accepted his isolation the more he was inclined to distance himself from the chattering. Leaving him with all but one decision, the obscure door beneath the clock and the going through thereof.

Partially standing and leaning with his both hands on the armrest of the big chair. Louder became the ticking of the clock. With his attention drawn to the glowing light and the door, fading became the voices with the passing of the time on the clock. But more persistence was the voices to his awareness. The dim light of the room became like fetters of a hindrance to his ability to judge or reason. Moving forward, Naharre walked toward the door, reaching for the knob while yet a distance away by the stretching out of his arms.

Therein, he realizes unlike the wooden construction of the door, the doorknob was made of a solid iron and cold to the touch, it felt. Pulling him further toward the unknown. The weighty door swung open without any effort on his part. Seemly a period of oblivion ended with the awareness of what was now before him. He could have never imagined. Even in his desire to be isolated, he now felt such an encounter must be spoken of with his family. Quickly, he turned to the door of his entry. As fast as he turned, startled he was with his body slamming into an obstacle. Unlike the inside of the room, the wall out here was the same as the surrounding. Rugged and bare, like a cliff. The door wherewith he entered remains, but as a cut-out of a marking, but without a handle or a doorknob.

For a moment, Naharre knew he was no longer within their new home, and he was not alone! Facing the cliff-like wall, the realization of his action was before him as an obstacle. Having both hands and palms spread against the rugged barrier. The place of his solitude he has always desired was now an experience to behold. Therewith, he stays put. Knowing he was not alone; he stalls his turn as he palms the rugged barrier. At which point all that was around him became a reminder of his family. The chattering was now clear, and it was the calling of his name repeatedly. At the back of him was the sound of a waterfall, as though it was in its final stage of flowing. Trickling slowly was the flow of the water from the rugged iron-like rock formation. On the surface was the spread of puddles like lagoons.

Moreover, in the center of it all, was a man.

Slowly turning, the eyes of Naharre came in contact with the man. Naharre instinctively flinched. But the man moved not.

Thick was the hair of the man. Thick and curly, but through time, the appearance of the man’s hair gives the impression of a drooping formation over and around his hunched shoulders. Not for a deformity to his being, but for the unflinching holding of a rod in his hands. As Naharre observed in nervousness, he perceives the rod was a fishing pole which the man held on to motionless without an expression. Nothing moves except for the occasion shimmering of the streaks of grays in his hair was like a splatter of white powder. Periodically there was a deep gasp from the man. Yet motionless he remains in his somewhat static surrounding of which Naharre was now a part of. Therein, his sensibilities were liberated, hearing he heard things he could not once hear. Seeing, he saw things he couldn’t see clearly before. For the man before him was himself, but as an old man. Now, before him was his discernment. Nevertheless, diffused was the potential fear, but heightened was his awareness of the surrounding. The puddles and the lagoons remained, he was free to see, observe and experience. But the man stays confined by his propensity of doing what he chooses to do, the holding of the fishing rod. Although he fishes not in the lagoons, albeit the paddling pool beneath his feet was a place of fishing, without flinching.

Strange was the sighting to Naharre, for he knew about fishing through the company of his grandfather, and this was not the way it was to be carried out. However, he knew this man was a version of himself. For at times our actions and decisions may put us in various conditions. Becoming aware of this, he felt not a connection to the man. Through this, clearer became the chattering which drove him away. Now these were the voices calling his name so that he goes not astray. Like an individual trapped in a small room, the sounds of the calling of his name amplify and boomerang the walls of the hard rugged place, triggering a tremors-like effect and the shaking of his being. Even the waterfall, he felt the splashes on his face, once and again and continually. Intense became the tremors and the calling of his name amplified and heavier was the splash, soak to his being. On his back he realizes he was, looking up at the many faces of his family with gladness in their eyes looking upon him with Grandpa Memento, or Mem as he is called. A nickname shared between Naharre and his grandpa. Standing, holding an empty water pitcher in his arms with a smile on his face toward Naharre.

There Naharre lays comprehending in his thoughts what has just happened while being glad to be in the presence of his family. What was the dim room that I walked through and the hard rugged place I was just a part of? These things and more play in the recollection of Naharre as he lay in the presence of his family.

Welcome back, Harre. Spoke Grandpa as he let down the empty water pitcher with a smile of relief on his face. At the moment, Naharre must absorb the spattering of water encircling him as well as absorbing the experience he knew not how to put into words, as he rested with his family by his side.

His mother spoke not a word, for his action and the results thereof which had led to this incident. Nevertheless, her love for him could be seen beyond her silence through her actions and her body language and the urgency she shows in the preparing of his favorite sandwich as she returns again in the company of the family by his side. Propping him up and giving to him the sandwich followed by the careful placement of a dry towel she placed around his shoulders and neck.

From the time of his previous encounters to the present experience with the family, glad they were and appreciative he was being with them. However, for the most part, the pleasantries in merriment have been through expression rather than a physical contact like that of a hug from his mother. In particular that he missed and silently looked forward to. But through his alienation caused by his actions which led to being confined in a strange rugged hard place; now in a familiar place his guilt became one more confinement. For this time, the uncertainties were the barrier of not knowing how the family felt about his previous doings.

Many were the thoughts circulating his mind, but one was the action it took for the recomposing of his mind and his awareness. Tugging below him with a slight weight thereon, his eyes did follow downward coming in contact with Ginomai. The youngest of the six siblings. Unlike the others, being glad for his return, but somewhat still being aware of what happened. Ginomai held back not their expression of gladness while forgetting the wrongdoing of Naharre and climbing their way up into his arms. Until the two were arms around body and head in chest embrace. With gladness in his heart yet again, the burden he once felt was now clear to all, like the honest transparent accumulation which built-up below his eyelids and glided in the flow of tears on his cheeks as he held on to Ginomai.

The lesson to Naharre was made known. When the haughtiness of the mind has risen beyond the means to reason for the consideration of others. At times, it takes the smallest of things to bring the mind to a humble place of reasoning and the appreciation of others. Or what we are to those who greatly care about us.

For every life moment there is an experience. This was a new life’s moment being experienced in their new home.

Before now, at their lakeside home, Naharre though being young, he was by far the most expert tour guide at Lake Same, the largest lake in the land. Many were his encounters with the people from all walks of life and their exciting stories. For Naharre, this was his moment and an experience all for himself in which he took pride in the harboring of his importance. Until the family’s decision of relocating to a place unheard of by many, Woodland Shrub. Unlike the opened and established lake shores with its many mansions aimed at tourism and the attractions thereof. Every road and path of Lakeview was cutout for commerce and wealth. Even the grass which ran alongside the shores or pavements were kept accordingly to accommodate the appearance of Lake Same. On the contrary, here at Woodland Shrub, most paths had to be made on a daily basis.

For the preparation of their move, Grandpa Memento and his son, Naharre’s father worked endlessly in secrecy for a surprise to the family in clearing a great portion of the family’s land. Which was now covered in lush natural green grass-like lawn. Bordered with beautiful vegetations and plant life, even with an artesian well in sight with individual trees, big and small. Weaving below their trunks were the scattering of boulders of all sizes. Some fully seen while others remain partially visible with crystal clear babbling brooks flowing round and about the rocks. Ahead in the distance was an unseen waterfall heard by its sound through the overhanging of the branches of trees and vegetation. Though unseen for the time of the season due to the fullness of the leaves on the tree’s branches and the growing shrubs. But one could smell the purity of the cleaner air through the negative ionization of the waterfall effect on the surrounding. Peaceful and calm, it was. So was the experience of Naharre, lying on the open porch of the family. Having been brought out unconsciously. For the first time he greatly experiences these things. Although it was present upon their relocation to Woodland Shrub. However, if the body experiences transition but the mind is unwilling to change. Therein, the individual is trapped in a past, while failing to see the present that they are a part of.

This was the case with Naharre, refusing any meal with his family for many days until he wandered into an unfurnished room of the new home, wherewith he passed out. Seeing himself as an old man, trapped in a place, doing what he loves to do, fishing, but doing it the wrong way. Such was the thick hair hunched over, old man. Surrounded by waters and lagoons, but he fished in a small paddling pool. For at times, the individual is excessively fixed on what they want and how they want it, consequently the individual fails to see greater things that are around them. The fear of time, like the dim clock that controls the individual action to act now or never. Often time, this fear will lead them into a cold hard place of their entrapment. Like the old man through the wooden door, but was now sitting in a hard place. Doing what he loves to do, but without a result, for carrying it out in a wrong way.

As the gentle cool breeze soothes Naharre, he awakens from his thoughts while giving Ginomai a tight embrace of love and appreciation. Though he hugs but one of his many siblings and family for now. But in a single hug was the love for them all. The waterfall he previously encountered was in a perishing stage. Now, loud and soothing was the roaring of their waterfall out in the distance. Piercing through the sound of the waterfall and cool breeze was the passing by of a Great Blue Heron. Familiar was the sound to his ears, as both grandpa and Naharre looked up with a smile. Often the two have heard such sounds on their fishing trips in the past. The present was now and a new life to be.

Taking turns was each individual family member giving Naharre a hug and a welcome back greeting, but for their large size as a family, they all at once collapsed on him with a joyous group hug along with the little giggling Ginomai gladly trapped in the middle of the group hug.

With a relief, spoke Naharre. It was a nightmare.

Grandpa took his hand in his hand, and he spoke out that all may hear.

Though he spoke to Naharre, but in so doing he addressed them all.

Harre, in the hours of our sleep when our nightmare haunts us, it is time we wake up to our reality. Striving to do the right thing in the present while we are yet awake, that we may find rest and pride in our dreams.

The accumulation of things doesn’t make a person, but you as an individual can accumulate anything to make you to be whatsoever you want to be. If for the right reason, it is not only for the betterment of you, but for those around you as well. We are never where we are in the present without someone somewhere being what they were to us in the past.

So, learn to ask yourself, what am I to others?

I belong here, replied Naharre. As they all walked together beneath the shades of the trees alongside the babbling brooks with a large silver serving plate filled with freshly prepared varieties of food. All together as a family. Many in numbers, but in one accord.



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Woodland Shrub. The new home of Naharre and his family.
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