From the Tale
My spine straightened by its own accord, sitting me up, tall, alert and enervated. I rubbed away my tears and carelessly wiped my sniffling nose on the dark sleeve of my best Prada suit. My consciousness expanded, as if a light had been turned on, and I peered, for the first time, into the vastness of my inner landscape. A nameless, formless hunger rose up and sucked me into its vortex, squeezing all the air from my lungs and thoughts from my mind, leaving me gasping like a beached fish, yet also wonderfully open and empty.
A gift of pure, crystal-clear awareness bubbled up into this emptiness that spoke to me in simple, strange words, but with the power to turn my life inside out, “You can no longer hide from me. I am your soul ache, come to guide you home.”
Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. I turned to the tinted panel of glass that covered one wall of my office. A spider web of ice crystals had spread across its flat surface, painted by the chilled exhalation of a December wind. An enormous, jet-black raven perched on the narrow, metal ledge outside my window, haloed by the neon glow of a waking, urban nightscape. Her hot breath melted a portal through the icy web into my world. She looked crafty, purposeful, as she called insistently and shifted from one leathery foot to the other, dancing her darkling shadow across the polished sheen of my desk. In my expanded state of awareness, the raven’s arrival seemed commonplace, expected.
I slowed my breath and opened to the fathomless depth of the raven’s twinkling, obsidian eyes. As if by magic, her rasping cries melted a portal into the icy interior of my heart, frosted over by the chilled exhalation of my unrelenting drive, and other deeper, hidden hurts that I could sense but not name. And in this melting a secret desire awoke within me, a yearning for something essential missing from my life, connected to my soul. An understanding passed between us, a promise that I would follow whatever path this raven, and my soul, laid before me.