October 19, 2018, 10:31 PM
@Norsamu as we discussed in chat otherwise AW
he had to center himself, or the grief would never abate. he spent many an evening on the sand, staring at the waves, losing himself in the endless rhythm. where did it start? would it ever cease? or were the waves a metaphor for life--
--for in the crashing upon the shore, there is death, and then the water recedes. waves swell up--new life--only to die again.
it was poetic, really. and govinda found peace in the concept. his utter meltdown on the island, and the subsequent injuries and exodus, had been his descent onto the beach. cast out in many pieces, reforming once more here. this was the beginning of the second--or third? fourth?--swell, and he felt it rise within him, a phoenix from the ashes.
there was much to miss in his old life, but he had come to terms with the fact that, through his own fault, it had slipped from his grasp forever. there was no conceivable situation in which he could walk into the maplewood and carry on, business as usual. nor would he ever stroll across the sands of undersea, a welcome guest.
all had been destroyed by his own paw. but perhaps it was always meant to be this way.
in spiritual death, he had found new life.
he was endless, like the waves.