“You will not see any disparity in what the Lord of Mercy creates. Look again! Can you see any cracks? Look again!” (Quran 67: 3-4)
How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become?
Muscles clenched, legs tensed, I ran. The pain seared, with each step forward I longed for a sword to fall, to pierce me so that I may not need to think, or to pierce the shadow following me, growing eerily close in the moonlight.
Each streetlight I passed allowed the shadow to temporarily dip out of view, my silhouette surrounded in nothing but blinding artificial light. Another step and it returned, teasing, watching, reminding me that out of sight did not mean out of mind.
I felt as though my brain was sinking through my body, lighting each nerve on fire until I would soon be set ablaze.
The ocean beside me roared.
The waves crashed, producing white foam as they broke, a startling sight amongst the midnight blue. The sea was a fierce and untameable creature, each surge of movement offering an unmistakable challenge.
I smiled back, momentarily amused. My heart in the ocean, my head in the sand.
The sea called for me. A taunt for a taunt.
I went to it slowly, shy, and hesitant. Shoes off, the roughness of the sand scraped at my feet, its coolness peeling back the heat that had risen on my skin. The night was quiet, the murmur of seagulls in the distance drowned out by the persistent reverberating of breaking waves.
Amongst the vastness of the beach my shadow did not seem so close, for between me and it lay an immeasurable number of tiny granules. With each step, the grains fell off my feet, joining their kin, resting until they would be picked up once more.
As I approached the sea’s edge, the sand became dense and wet, gripping my toes, pulling me with the promise of a loving embrace. I sat and let the waves fall over my legs, instinctively easing at the touch of the water.
Closer, it whispered.
I lay down, my head sinking into the caverns of sand, the sea rushing over my face. The silent tears poured out until the streams of water were entirely intermixed, the ocean beginning to claim me as its own.
A calm voice overtook me. You should not hold such doubts. We are built by the same Creator, the ocean reminded me. The same Architect meticulously designed us, our strength pooling from the same infinite source.
The water seeped in, my body engulfed by waves, merging into me so all the empty parts were filled and filled and overflowed and emptied themselves back out and then filled again and filled again, a process of scraping and bearing and moulding and shaping and fashioning.
I allowed myself to get lost in the sensation, the notion of tomorrow forgotten by the pleasure of being held. A blackness overtook me as I sunk, my eyes opening to find nothing but obscurity. I felt several forces pulling me, grabbing from every direction, screaming that if I did not look at them, I would cease to ever feel good again.
My throat bubbled and my brain stretched, a crushing numbness unravelling all I wished to hold on to. The shadows began to creep inside, intertwining, coercing me to believe that they were nothing but my mirror. They were me, and I were them.
I could hear a soft call from the darkness. Are you so quick to forget? Has our source of peace already become foreign to you?
From the watery darkness, a glimmer emerged, followed by more glistening, and twinkling, and glimmering, until the light begun to pool up behind my eyes.
There lay all the pearls in the world right beneath my fingertips, waiting, whispering, each as breathtakingly ethereal as the next. They sang a song to me, hoping to be touched. Reach for us! Reach for us for we will exult in delight and come to you.
They seemed so certain, so I picked one up and waited.
Its beauty scarcely be articulated. It was large and whole and shone ever so brightly. I must be swallowed, it told me. I must be swallowed.
I laughed, for I knew I could not. It was far too great, and I was not strong or able enough to digest it. I would need to break it in order to properly consume it.
Swallow it whole! They cried. We are not made to be broken into palatable pieces! You will swallow us whole or not at all!
I cannot! I shouted back. I cannot! It is too difficult; I must make myself easy to swallow.
No! Their voices screamed in unison, a ringing choir of light flashing before me. You have been crafted to be whole, how dare you reject the perfections of your Designer? Swallow it whole!
Their luminescence streamed through me, filling me up as the water did. In the brightness, I could see the layers, my skin so easily permeated by the sea and stars, as if we were made of one boundless substance.
I swallowed it whole, and they rejoiced, for finally I was beginning to learn. Perhaps, someday soon I will become brave enough to take my place amongst them.
What is forgiveness if not an admission that greatness will follow?