Eureka

I had been in my lab for months.  My food, sleeping arrangements, clothing even, had been arranged beforehand so that I could dedicate myself to one thing- the study of alchemy. Turning lead into gold had been my original plan, but I found out through study, one can purify oneself and that transformation of oneself was the key to transforming anything else.

It started with the gathering.  It is important to find the purest, most essential supplies and materials that one can, for purity is of utmost importance. As I studied the masters, that is the topic that came up most often- purity.  Many metaphors were used in the ancient texts: fresh fallen snow, mountain stream water, newborn baby.  Purity was indeed god-like.

The second part of my journey was to purify myself.  I ritually bathed according to the specifications of the great alchemist, Doze of Samarkand.  I practiced the crystal ritual cleansing of Shem of Timbuktu.  I even had sand shipped in from the Sahara to finish the sand cleansing of Dom the Wise.

When I was fully purified, I walked backward into the building that was to be my home until I was able to turn lead to gold.  At that time, my world grew both small and infinitely larger.  My personal library was poured through with renewed vigor, as I read each book with fresh eyes.  My instruments, made of the purest metals gleamed in the candlelight as I polished and repolished them.

My plans went perfectly, and by the sixth month, I began to heat and mix the elements that I needed to make the lead turn into gold.  I  knew that the fabled philosopher’s stone was within my reach.  I knew that I would be changed for life.  Rich beyond my wildest dreams.  I shook those thoughts to the back of my head and proceeded to mix powders and liquids, metals and stones, heating the fire to the hottest potential I could.  

Through the processes I had learned through my study, the ingredients began to transform from their original form to something else entirely.  Something that I could not explain and a dare not, for only the worthy can be trusted with the truth.  Each day brought new permutations and I relished the discovery of waking to the next step.  Day after day, I added, removed, replaced, all according to the schedule that I devised through my research.

It felt as if the months blended together to create one glorious process.  Day and night were of no consequence to me.  Sleep was necessary, but the amount of time sleeping versus awake is lost to me now. My clothing hampered progress and was discarded, food was eaten, but only to stave off the gnawing feeling that haunted me in my time of great concentration.  

My first breakthrough occurred after many months.  It happened suddenly, as the molten lead suddenly shifted in the cauldron.  I saw it move, as though it had taken on a life of its own.  I consulted the texts, and nothing of this type of occurrence was recorded, although I knew that many of the secrets of alchemy were not recorded, because the masters are only willing to take the acolyte so far before he must figure out the secrets of the universe on his own.  And I was assuredly going to master these last steps.  For if one has a molten metal that has movement, how many more steps were there?

My next breakthrough happened on a snowy day.  I know because I parted the window shade for a mere moment to refresh my thoughts at some point during the day.  I beheld a sheet of snow slowly drifting, wave upon wave, to the ground.  The universe was truly a mystery waiting to be solved- a beautiful pattern unlocked by the hands of the few who were willing to solve it.  I was to unlock that pattern.

The molten lead was hot that day, enough to counter the cold from outside, and I knew it was ready for the one ingredient that eluded so many who had tried and failed to make the Philosopher’s Stone.  I placed it in the cauldron, stirred the mixture gently, so as to incorporate it without breaking it up too quickly.  

I know, you are wondering what the ingredient is, but I will keep that to myself so that if you choose to unlock the secrets of the universe, you too, will be ready for the challenge. For without challenging oneself, the secrets will never be unlocked.

From the cauldron, a small and great wind erupted and funnelled up toward the ceiling, such that I had never seen before  Sparks of red and green shot toward me with immense velocity and ferocity.  I was not hurt in any way as I was showered with the universe as the Earth transmuted in front of my eyes.  A blinding light flashed before me and all was gone.  My lab, my clothing, the cauldron; all gone, all disintegrated by the fabulous spectacle that I was beholding.  It was as if God himself was meeting me in this place. 

A voice spoke in my head, unknown to me at the time, but destined to become familiar in the coming months commanded me,  “Forward. Step forward and behold the transformation!”

I willed myself move, scared of what I had unlocked, yet anxious to see the transformation of my simple metals. Forward, toward what appeared to be a small pond, I floated.  I dare not say I walked, for it was not that as such.  I gazed into the pond to see myself- my truest self.  A ball of green fire glowed in the reflection of the pond, and I was mesmerized by what I saw. The orb which I saw, I recognized immediately.  It was the Philosopher’s Stone.  I reached to touch it and felt a burning sensation as my essence plunged into the pond.  

At that moment, I saw myself.  Truly saw myself.

The window blew open behind me. I heard birds chirping, felt the warmth of a spring day upon my back. I turned and found one of the shutters hanging from a hinge.  I looked down at the floor and saw a crow, laying on the ground, dazed.  Clearly the impact of the bird upon my window had broken both the window and the bird.

And, I, heaped on the floor.  I glanced down and saw that I indeed had shed my clothes.  What little remained of them hung from bones.  I looked around the room. The cauldron sat in the center of a fireplace, clearly gone cold from lack of use.  Trash was strewn about, clearly shed quickly and often.  I ventured to the cauldron on shaking legs and peered in.  In it was a fist sized lump of something metallic.

In my brokenness, my mind floated back to the greatness of  creating the Stone, then back to the frail, skin tight skeleton that moved when I willed it to. What had I given up and what had I received in turn? I picked up the lump and sighed.  Then I collapsed, exhausted.