The Presence of the Eye... and other sho
2004-02-28 02:22:32 (UTC)

Presence of the Eye

There is a place I sometimes go to make time stop.
It is a place that maintains youth, where no one lives, and
no one dies. It is a place that fails to recognize
civilization, and allows nature to recapture her true grip
upon existence.
When you are there you feel so terribly alone, yet
at the same time, so wonderfully connected to everything
around you, and you get a feeling of excitement, and fear,
and divine peace. Stress, doubt, and the worries of a
material life cannot find this place. It is, more than
anything else, a place of unattainable serenity.
The view from this spot shows the changes and the
turmoil of the valley below, as the inconstant sun casts
both shadow and light, so that darkness is upon many during
the light of day. You can sympathize with those in the
dark, but you cannot empathize, because the sun shines warm
upon your face until the last possible moment.
It is a belief of mine that every person born has
one spot on Earth that is truly theirs, and that their
challenge is to find it. I have found mine in a small town
in the Adirondacks, nameless to the rest of the world.
The town is one where everyone knows each other.
People don’t lock their doors or their cars, you can shoot
a gun in your own back yard, and every man and boy carries
a knife. Some of the more arrogant people in this world
would call that behavior simple-minded, or ignorant, but
the less contemptuous will recognize it for what it really
is: a glorious lack of sophistication. They don’t lock
their houses or cars because they don’t need to. They can
shoot guns and carry knives because they trust each other,
and if that is ignorance, then it is blissful ignorance,
and I say let them have it.
It is in this town of blissful ignorance and
unwavering trust that my spot of unattainable serenity is
found. It is the place that I go to in the morning to watch
God peak over the edge of the earth with his eye of gold,
and it is the place where I go in the evening to watch him
recede once again, back over the horizon, leaving me only
with the promise that he will be back again tomorrow.
I do get to see my spot now and again -- twice a
year typically -- but it isn’t enough. It is never enough.
I would tell you all exactly where it is, but the people
who need to know can tell from my description, and I feel
that if I shared the location with those on the outside,
that it would somehow take away from its meaning. Its
secrecy makes it my own.
It is true that the physical beauty of the place is
the main source of my attraction to it, but there is more
to it than that. It is in a town that I love, surrounded by
people that I love. If it were anywhere else in the world I
don’t think I’d care for it at all.
Many people dream of going to Europe, or Asia, or
the Caribbean. Well, I have been some of those places, and
there is still no place on Earth I would rather be than in
a small town, atop a hill overlooking a valley that has
always been, and will always be, blessed by the presence of
the eye of God.