Shattered Echoes

A month has passed since they first moved in from sunny Southern Europe to study and, by now, the mind has already settled into the rhythms of this new lifestyle. Yet, the body remains a passenger lost in unconscious nostalgia. A month feels more like one endless day, like a continuum in the infinite dimension of time.

They finally open their eyes to see their blurry-looking body lying on a blue carpet on the floor right next to their bed. Light emerges from all over the carpet and surrounds their body. The urge to rise and escape flutters through the room, a silent whisper carried by the expansive Dutch window. Somehow, they could not move. Their body was useless. A magical inertia holds them captive, rendering motion an elusive fantasy. They clench their teeth, close their fists in frustration, and scream for help but that world did not know sound either. The lights flash, and the carpet transpires desire until their roommate opens their bedroom door only to wake them up from one more nightmare. “Coffee?” a mundane question, yet a lifeline to reality.

It's just another windy day in gray Rotterdam, where routine becomes a shield against existential voidness. As always, they stand up for the daily pull-ups and yoga stretches while Spanish joyful music plays from their still-functioning 18-euro Amazon speaker. After a hot shower, they turn on the heater to its maximum capacity - a privilege of included gas in the rent - and they sit on their spinning, black chair to read the first article of the day. Life is great. Life should be great? That daily feeling of egoistic emptiness starts evolving on their stomach. Just about to finish reading the last paper, their eyes start watering and in a matter of seconds, tears create a flood in their soft heart. Luckily their roommate was often available for a quick bike ride to the nearby lake to watch the sun set behind those clouds. They loved the ducks, the sun, the water, the trees, and even the cold wind freezing their face and hands. They loved nature, that’s where they would find solace. Observing the endless landscape while listening to the calm sound of the birds gave them a sense of perspective. Contemplation unfolds. For some reason, the ability to see the greater picture allowed them to question the meaning of life. Sometimes the accumulation of thoughts just led to more confusion and that’s when they would return home to the black chair, only to reflect once again as to why they are feeling the way they do. Ultimately, all is well, right?

But they were grateful. They did feel inspired and somehow more alive than ever. They light up Palo Santo, some lavender-scented candles, and a Tantra essential oil. That room had an energy anyone could feel: they were seeking enlightenment. They sit down on the warm floor and place their hands on their legs with their palms facing upwards to let the energy of the room interact with their own. A surreal forest births and the insects scream as loud as the unheard soundtrack of the walk. In an open space, sunrays penetrate the trees, and they recline on the ground like a celestial body. “Luca!”, echoes through the clearing. That was their name, they felt. It resonated. Except it wasn’t.

From radiant light, their younger self appears and gives them their hand. There was no space for questions. Together, they traverse life’s timeline from the very present until the start of life. “Here’s where you failed me”, their child points out calmly several times along the way. There was no room for judgment. They walk until their birth. Tears. “Now here is where you start rebranding yourself.” More tears. The body is numb, and the mind is disoriented. They feel lost and hopeless, but simultaneously tranquil. “I cannot do anything, except gather the tears you will walk on”, their child reveals while squeezing their hand tightly. 

In parallel, however, the future unfolds somewhere where the truth is known. Their future self takes the hand of their child to walk him over to the other side of what is unknown. Their heart is racing. The mind transcends, they can see it is there already, but the body remains anchored. They can see beyond and, even though they feel clarity, it is an extremely painful feeling. That of knowing. The anxiety seems to start dissipating from their stomach in a sense of relief, but clarity brings a deeper pain. They feel that knowing hurts more than being in the dark.

Finally, they open their eyes and reality rushes back like a distant echo through that window. The blue carpet rises, defying gravity, and this time, they knew. The ceiling lamp flashes green to bathe the room in an eerie glow. Standing up, they confront their reflection in the mirror. Dysphoria? They rush to grab a pen, compelled to write down their revelation. 

I have been living in melancholia and I have been unknowingly grieving. I mourn the illusion of the person I and everyone else believed I was. The longing for freedom echoes within me, but choices feel like chains. I grieve the idea of freedom. I have been living a tamed life, sensing a reality beyond what my eyes perceive. Beyond what I see lies what I already feel. But I am not there. I need to find peace within collapse to walk further, I need to acknowledge the river of tears that will eventually lead me to clarity. Life is great, but the possibility of it being greater is a painful ache. Life is beautiful and so am I, and somehow, that hurts deeply.

Their roommate knocks on the door, and his voice penetrates the solitude. “Can I?”, he asks. “Koda”, they reply, the way both of them had agreed to in reference to their arm tattoo portraying a bear of love: a totem of the movie Brother Bear. “Is your mind present right now?”, he grins. “It has always been here”, they confess, “and it was never a nightmare after all.”