Sunday, June 19, 2011
The predeterminate moment is not when one succeeds but when one fails. That is how I was able to accept my failure with humility and love for I knew that my interpretation would determine my fate, and Jasmine’s. So I journeyed into the shadows of the pain that wracked my soul, not pain that I felt for my fate, but for Jasmine’s. And I remained shivering there for five months as I scratched away the days and focused on bathing my disappointment in loving light.
I continued to love Jasmine with all of my five hundred years. And I knew that even though I had failed miserably, I hadn’t failed irrevocably. If I kept my discipline and my love alive, I could still live to hold her against my aching chest. Her lips would open once more to welcome my caress and we would be together, I knew…if I had the patience and the discipline.
I could not survive without human breath, but I had been trained, three-hundred years ago, to thrive on the breath of spiritual energy or prana. It was necessary that I concentrated on love and not revenge. Revenge shred the soul and consumed more energy than love. And I had enough love for my angel, Jasmine. Love is the fuel that I used to slow my heartbeat and pulse rate. That was another technique that the yogis had taught me. So I needed very little to survive. And I slept in a web of love for five months awakening each day only to scratch the passing of another dawn on the lid of my coffin with my nails – that is the only activity that I allowed myself. Then I returned to my somnolent state and held her image, her voice, in my heart. The more that I loved, the more love I had. That and patience were my weapons. As each day passed, I was closer to stockpiling a powerful arsenal that could destroy only those without love, those without grace – those such as Phisto.