“There are wounds that never heal!”
“You have to learn how to live while bleeding!”
“There are circles that can never be cut!”
“You have to learn how to live freely while being imprisoned! For above all, there is that ounce of living that makes all the difference.”
The stone circle protected her. She wanted to protect the Moon. The obscurity that ate it always disturbed her. Not out of some weird, unexplained superstition, but because all her senses became disproportionate at such times. Shadow and light, torment and peace mingled until forming the primordial chaos.
She held high the torch as if trying to give a little bit of its light to the Moon that slowly turned paler and thinner. She couldn't feed the darkness anymore! She needed light even if as feeble as that of the Moon!
"What do you see when you look at it?" the stones whispered again. "Do you see freedom? Do you see it gliding, pulling the dark curtain embroidered with stars and think: 'That's Freedom!'? Do you long for what it owns?”
The Moon was the prisoner of its own fate: without light but that stolen from the Sun, without the greatness and splendour of the stars, yet detaining a hidden power capable of moving worlds.
"Do you think it is aware of its strength?"
No, it wasn't! It did what the invisible threads of the Universe pulled it into doing. Everything was an illusion! We put the burden of our beliefs on the shoulders of the Moon’s destiny. For it was free within its confined circle exactly because it did what it was destined to do without pondering on its greatness, or usefulness, or miserable fate. It was free!
"I can be free, too!"
"Yes, you can!"
Everything was an illusion! A painter puts a splash of colour on the blank canvas and then, adding different nuances over it, he transforms it into a fluttering wing. The feathers are not there, the wind is not beneath it, but you still see them, and you seem to feel the wind and watch the bird fly on the canvas. Illusion! As illusive as her try to cut that circle that strangled her, maddened her. Nothing helped: prayers, rites, wishes uttered in the middle of the night! That circle snapped back in place every time she thought she won over it. It was indestructible! She couldn't cut it! There was always something pulling her back in the middle of it. As the Moon, she needed to live freely inside it. It was vaster than she thought, filled with possibilities. It could actually feed her freedom, for it taught her how to fly in order to surpass its confinement.
She looked at the Moon reappearing in all its reddish splendour. She put out the torch and smiled.
“There are wounds that never heal, and circles that can never be cut. We are not the same as before after stepping inside our circle, so, we lose our ability to live outside it. We find something else, something greater, for a circle has no beginning and no end, and it is as wide as we let our souls expand. There are no limitations! It’s only the magic of the circle we closed and allowed to imprison us. That magic can teach us to live freely even if bleeding. If we set it free, it sets us free!
So amazing what an imprisoned Moon can teach you!"
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