A Perfect Day

A Perfect Day
© Alan Tinker

I drift slowly out of sleep, meandering towards wakefulness through wispy layers of consciousness. My first awareness the sound of birds, their pure morning songs calling me from the surreal world of my dreams to the reality of a new day. I begin to feel the boundaries of my body, the soft feathers of the doona across my shoulders, the radiated warmth from my wife’s body against my back, the cool of the morning air on my exposed feet, the gentle support of the bed against my shoulder and hip. I open my eyes to the familiar shapes of the bedroom furniture silhouetted against the first traces of morning light filtering through the drawn curtains. I am immediately thankful that I have woken before the sun has risen and know that if I get up now I will still be in time to witness the full glory of sunrise.

I roll quietly out of bed, not wanting to wake my wife so early, and walk out onto the balcony. It is too dark yet to make out the details of the lake at the end of the treed valley below, but even in its blackness it emits a feeling of calm and serenity. I look above the lake to the forested hilltops surrounding its far shores, which are now tinged with the gold of the rising sun.

As I watch, the sky begins to lighten and take on the colours of sunrise. Gold, silver, orange, blue. The blue is so light it seems almost transparent and gives the feeling that it is not only a part of the great colour show but also the backdrop on which it is to be displayed. As the colours in the sky intensify and become more glorious they provide highlights to the scenery below and reflect, like fairy lights, from the dew dropped trees. The lake begins to take on colour as well and its sparkle reflects back a welcome to the sky’s lights.

I feel my wife’s arms around my waist and her body move against mine and I hold her close as we watch the amazing spectacle before us. I feel so small. Such an insignificant part of the majesty and grandeur of everything that is happening before my eyes, yet so empowered to think that this is all for me.

“It is all for you” I feel his presence before I hear his voice. “The most beautiful sunrise ever on the most perfect day of your life.”

“Yes.” I exhale. It is the only appropriate response.

“Yes.” But not a spoken word, not even a thought. It is a feeling. A fullness. A realisation.

“Yes”.

I do not bother to turn around because I know he is not there. Even my wife has gone. I’m alone now, just the two of us.

“So what do you want?” he asks. “What can make this day perfect for you?”

I think for a while about what will make me happier and enrich my life. Two words come easily to mind.

“Knowing and being.” I reply.

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

“Firstly, who I am. Who is the real me beneath all these masks and facades that are put up? I’ve searched and searched and found so many parts, but I want to know the whole.”

“Then look.” he says, pointing towards the mirror that has appeared beside me.

I look into the mirror at my reflection.

“But all I see is my reflection. This tells me nothing.”
He shakes his head. I feel my frustration in his expression.

“Then all you are seeing is what you are, not who you are. You need to look with different eyes.” So softly spoken. Such a simple explanation. So much love and understanding in those words.

I look again into the mirror and watch as my image takes on a new form, breaking down into a myriad of smaller images. My parents and their parents and their parents and their parents. My brother and sister and their friends and the parents of their friends. My schoolteachers and their teachers and their teachers. My friends, current and past. Familiar faces, unfamiliar faces. The more I look the more fragmented the image becomes, like a huge quilt in which every fibre of every thread in every square is laid out in the most exquisite detail.

And as I look the understanding overwhelms me. I sense my breath quicken and become shallow as my eyes fill with tears and my heart, body and soul fill with gratitude for the love and fear, joy and sorrow, pride and disappointment each of the images has contributed towards making up the larger image that is me. I refocus on the larger image and the glow of its brilliance is now pure and dazzling. I feel myself becoming engulfed in the light, feel its warmth pouring through my body, experience its glory. I become the light and the warmth; take on its magnificence and splendour. I become me.

“And now will you be?” His voice is distant.

“What will I be?” I ask.

“Be what you will, but that’s not what I asked.”

“Yes, I will be,” I reply, “How could I not.”

“And now?” he asks. “What more do you need to make this day perfect?”

“I need nothing more,” I respond, “but I would like, if it’s possible, to feel a oneness with the universe. To feel the air and earth as part of me, or me as part of them.”

“Then step out,”

I look down and see I am standing at the edge of a cliff, the ocean far below. The words I had read come immediately to mind.

“Come to the edge,” he said.

“But we are afraid,” they replied.

“Come to the edge,” he said.

They came, he pushed them and they soared.

I step off the cliff and feel the lightness come over me as I float effortlessly upwards. I feel the soft breeze through my body. The sun’s warmth, not on my body, but flowing through it. I float through wisps of low cloud, and they through me. I look down at my body and notice it is losing its form as I become the air. An unseen, unknown force sweeps me along. Passing over mountains and lakes, rivers and oceans, deserts and plains. I watch as particles of air around me are drawn down to become breath, either for animals or humans, for people of all races, all religions, all political beliefs. The air is non-judgemental but makes itself freely available to all.

I allow myself to float for several hours. Feeling the complete freedom of formlessness and weightlessness. I become part of the air currents, ruffling the feathers of soaring birds. I am the soft summer breeze, eliciting gasps of pleasure with my soft caress. I cover myself in fragrance to pleasure the olfactory senses of those I pass. A sultry floral perfume, a rich exotic spice, the comforting aroma of a home cooked meal.

And as I pass over the globe I notice that wars have ceased and that all people are living in peace. I notice that food and water are plentiful for all and are being shared in a way that means nobody wants for their basic needs of survival.

“How long has it been like this?” I ask.

“Since you willed it to be,” his reply so matter of fact, “this is your perfect day.”

I close my eyes and begin to descend. As I reach the ground and settle down into it a new sensation begins to fill my being. Now I feel the richness in the soil, I smell the damp grass and become alive with nutrition and energy. The power of the earth’s core pulsates like a heartbeat from below me while the sun’s warmth gives me strength from above. I lay there exhilarating in the power I can draw from both sources. I feed the grass and plants and trees from the nutrients within me, and they, in turn, provide food for animals and insects further along the food chain and eventually it all returns to me. I am the beginning and I am the end and each end is a new beginning.

I am the support for the millions of hooves, paws and feet that walk across me. I am the building block of cities yet if I become restless or uncomfortable and move I am the destroyer. I breathe in the immeasurable strength and power available to me, expanding my chest and encircling the globe and all its inhabitants in my arms. Abundance flows from me. I am the provider.

I close my eyes to focus my energies on directing the warmth and strength from inside myself. My breathing has become rhythmic, in time to a tapping sound. A foot tapping. A beat. A tune. It is a tune I know. I open my eyes and I am on a stage in a small, smoke filled room. I am with a group of black musicians, most of whom I recognise. George Lewis is there with his clarinet, Kid Ory with his trombone, Kid Howard on trumpet and “Slow Drag” on piano. We jam together for the rest of the night and have the audience enraptured. Never before have I played with such feeling for the music. After each of my solo pieces I stand in the spotlight and drink in the applause. I look towards my wife, sitting in the audience, and our eyes laugh together as we remember my first public performance.

It was close to midnight before my thoughts returned to him and I admonished my thoughtlessness in not thanking him earlier for what he had given me this day.

“You have to chastise yourself to justify your pleasure?” he asked, his voice now toned with both innocence and wisdom.

“It’s not to do with my pleasure”, I replied, “it’s to do with my ingratitude for what you have given me today.”

“But I have given you nothing.” Is that humility now? “Everything you experienced has come from within. Every day you have is perfect in its own purpose. You only need to see it”.