He sits there in the nook and stares holes into his whiskey glass.
What a contrast!
Outdoors the lightly curved hills, the murmuring rivulet, the picturesque houses, indoors the gloomy atmosphere, the silent waiter, the man in front of his glass.
The man who stares holes into his whiskey glass - where may his journey lead shortly?
It is said for journeys to have a certain potential of healing, perhaps therefore the archangel Rafael (whose name means “God heals”) was chosen as travel companion for Tobias. Or he chose him, who knows for sure which travel companion chooses the other one? And sometimes even the companion has a companion, like Rafael in the book Tobit brought a dog with him.
Why had he at once a grids in his head, now as his returning was near?
During the journey he felt so free! Perhaps he could at least save a bit of that freedom into his everyday life.
How does it come, that we’re on a journey rather willing to accept changes than at home?
Conversion is possible, but like at the disciples of Emmaus, it has to be admitted.
They allowed to be enchanted from that was gone on, didn’t take for sure that what they saw had to be a phantom, but they went into the unexpected news that much that they immediately had to march off to tell their friends about it.
Sometimes even a single meeting with a person is enough to bring the whole life into motion. “Stand up and go!”
And some time we get a reference, doors open to show us what our way, what we were born for.
“Put aside the Ranger. Become who you were born to be.”
To follow the path we were born for – if it would be always so easy to find it!
But what we can do is to say farewell to that what has been, to let it go.
What has been has been.
It may have been better or worse,
Edifying or strange,
Delightful or regrettable.
But it has been.
To say farewell to that what has been doesn’t mean to reduce its importance, but on the opposite to assign to it its full appreciation and his place and to allow that the own life develops over a really present presence into the future.
To say farewell to the past doesn’t mean not to keep the tradition doesn’t mean to forgot it, but on the contrary: It means in the full awareness of ones roots to keep that what bears, to remember what has delighted, inspired, what let a person mature to the one he is today, and to shape out of that strength the now or even find what one was born for.
Sometimes we wish us such strengths of whom the Whitsun story tells us. Less the feeling to be blown through with something diffuse or to can do unusual things, but rather the strength to dare the unthinkable, to face the own personality and the own way, an inspiration for a path which lies now clear in front of oneself.
What will the man in front of his whiskey glass do?
Perhaps he will put his dreams and memories like scenes in jars back to the shelf.
And after all, suddenly, out of a remembrance, an experience becomes bearing ground.
Out of the past becomes future.
And he stands up.
Inspired of an idea.
Blown through with a spirit.
He stands up and goes, even if he doesn’t still know where the spirit will blow him.
But he knows: He carried in the past, and he will do it in the future, too.