CI had been sailing on the ocean waves for almost two months, wandering adrift, without a shred of hope and that every day, at the same time, I received a visit from the sun which came to console me, until the evening, of my distress. From the porthole of my cabin, I saw the moon shimmer on the blue surface of the ocean and I admired, while small disparate clouds traveled in the night, the unfathomable depths of the firmament where letters of fire, forming the constellations, translated the mysteries of infinity.
I let myself be guided by the winds and the rolling swell towards an unknown destination and I sailed, thus, on an immense blue ocean, attracted by the bewitching song of the sirens which told me to come ...
Not knowing where to go, I floated like a buoy, animated by a tempest of desires.
I felt catapulted by gigantic waves that carried me faster and faster as if they were going to bring me to what I aspired.
Driven by the waves, I was optimistic and determined even if this somewhat unusual situation gave the impression of looking for a needle in a haystack.
After months of no apparent success, still drifting like a pilgrim aboard his ship, I began to doubt and discourage myself as to the possibilities and chances of seeing this thing so coveted by the world and yet so hard to find .
So I decided to put more assets at my disposal and I began to shout with all my might:
"Love where are you?", "Love show yourself?"
But I had the feeling of preaching in the desert so much the echo of my voice came back to me like a boomerang.
Falling on my knees, I raised my hands to the sky, praying for DI beg for help.
At that moment, I would have liked the heavens to open and to descend in a cloud, this benefactor, the only one able to enlighten me in this obscure search.
In the end, I did not even know what Love was.
Was this a thing?
Was this a way of being?
Was it a feeling?
All I knew was that I was dependent on this Love and it was absolutely necessary that I find it.
But how could I look for something I didn't know?
I had only a tiny idea of what was meant, but nothing really conclusive.
Reminding me only of what I had often been told: "theAhe is so patient, that he is full of goodness, that he demands everything, that he believes everything, that he hopes for everything, that he bears everything and that he is imperishable ", I conceived on the one hand that if this Anever died, I had a chance to get close to it, but I also became aware of the timelessness ofAwhat made me fall into tears.
I had just realized that theAMour was everywhere and in all and it was not necessary to look for it to find it or even to ask to have it, but it was necessary to reach out and take it since it was very close to us.
Deadly storm
After this little moment of reflection which transported me into total plenitude, I went out onto the deck of my boat, to enjoy a beautiful starry night, where the freshness of the wind enveloped me in its silk sheets. I was there, scanning the ebony horizon, arms crossed and face lit by the moon.
In the back of my boat, I could see a long furrow of foam that spanned endlessly.
This lull suddenly turned into a tumult in which the whistling gusts of wind and the clatter of waves against the hull of my boat announced the imminence of a strong storm.
Driven by the impetuous winds, the sails swelled and stiffened to the point where they gave way to the mast attachment.
I snuck back inside my cabin to see on the dashboard, the needle of the anemometer panic.
I tried to hold the rudder firmly to stay on course to starboard, but realized that my efforts were in vain.
There was no point in trying to maintain the steering: the boat was rocking in all directions, roughed up by the tumultuous waters of the ocean.
In some situations the Nature recalls its supremacy to man.
It is then that she becomes ruthless.
But I, an intrepid traveler, could not tolerate the fact of being ruled by a "capricious" sea.
So I straightened my cap and, with a determined step, I crossed the doorway of the cabin.
Hardly had I put the tip of the nose outside, a gust of wind came to whip my face with such violence that my glasses flew.
I tried to catch up with them but they were already far away, lost in the meanders of the ocean.
Holding my pipe and my hat, I advanced, head down, towards the mast which had yielded to the fastening of the sails in the hope of restoring it.
But, I could not do much, as the damage was important.
I fought with all my strength against the raging waters and gusts of strong winds that struck the luff of my boat.
I was quickly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the tornado that had deployed in the fight, the entire arsenal.
Everything had happened so quickly.
Clouds gorged with water had first piled up in a gloomy sky, and suddenly the storm had burst.
Sharp electric shocks followed by the roar of thunder had traveled the skies from all sides and a heavy rain had fallen on the boat.
The convulsions of the unleashed sea unfurled huge waves crashing and falling apart on the hull of my boat and the resulting surf was literally exploding the waves on my face.
My boat, tossed about in all directions on the wild waves of a rough sea, was inevitably advancing towards the eye of the storm.
I was under the wrath of an angry sea that formed waves five to six meters high ready to fall back on my boat and swallow it with its waves.
The whirlwind had grown considerably closer and a black hole threatened to suck us into its infernal spiral.
The eye of the storm was no longer very far away and confrontation seemed inevitable.
Suddenly, I was caught by it and then integrated in its convolution.
Finally the fight was too unbalanced and my boat and I were rushed into the abyss.
My disintegrated ship lay now twenty thousand places under the seas.
But what had happened to me?
On a mysterious island
Drossed on an unknown bank, I was lying on the wet sand, a world teeming with small animalcules imprisoned in the crevices of the rocks where the rhythmic ballet of an ophiure with a thousand variegated colors captivated my attention.
Then, I stood there, admiring the azure sky that shimmered on the almost limpid expanse of water while the waves crashed and broke to cover my feet with foam and tiny crabs with incredible velocity were moving near my squamous limbs.
All around me, I noticed a cemetery of translucent animals that adorned the golden sand of the beautiful beach.
I realized very quickly that it was jellyfish and that it was necessary not to touch them if I did not want to be affected by skin burns and corrosions.
Somewhat frightened by this rather morbid environment, I made the wise decision to leave the premises as soon as possible.
To go where I had no idea.
In the end, I did not even know where I was.
What is more distressing than being alone, in an unknown place, at the antipodes of all civilization, without supports or landmarks?
Slowly, I will stretch out on the sand, feeling my joints and reporting my health.
Miraculously, I had nothing to break.
I just had the limbs stiff and a bit sore.
How was that possible after such a shipwreck?
After a few moments, I resumed my posture and set in motion.
I was in search of an oasis in which the water would not dry up, of a haven of peace after this hubbub, of an island of vegetation in this desert, and walking under the heat, the body coated with sweat and the parched lips, I looked and saw an immutable horizon.
The ergs looked like big waves and the beach was an ocean of sadness.
I let myself be carried away by arid waves and by hot, dry winds, without resistance, as would a wind vane pushed by the wind power.
I moved on a real diamond mine with many facets that shone and reflected the sun's rays.
Above this glittering surface of beauty was the sun-disk, which with a piercing glance watched like a guardrail over everything here below.
In my line of sight, I could see, through the swirls of sand that darkened my field of vision considerably, a shape ... and I went in that direction.
In my progress, the gusts of wind hit me with extreme violence and I had to protect my face by wrapping a piece of cloth around my head.
Being both dazzled and blinded, I walked without knowing exactly where I was going, feeling the pain caused by the impact of the tiny grains of sand that came to kiss on my fleshly surface.
It was scorching hot on this beach and a large quantity of sweat was exhaling from my sweat glands and immediately evaporating on my tanned skin.
I was dehydrating and I did not have enough to drink.
I needed to draw deep in my bowels the energy necessary for my survival.
Suddenly, I felt in myself an inchoative will that propelled me into a field of hope and procured me the strength to advance:
I climbed up and down the mounds of sand like a boat swept away by the rolling of the swell.
My tattered clothes were nothing more than the reflection of my poor life and I put my feet one after the other on this hot surface, a bit like a lizard roaming the dunes of the Sahara.
Lacking terribly velocity and courage, I stumbled to end up slouching, face down, unconscious.
Some time later, I slowly opened the eyelids ...
My vision was blurry.
I rubbed my eyes vigorously and saw that yellow-orange disc disappear on the horizon and my heart was caught by a stream of melancholy and nostalgia.
Moved by the beauty of such a spectacle, my lacrimal glands overflowing with Love and Joy let out a few tears that dripped and spread like a stream along my cheeks.
Out of breath, I had to crawl contorting myself as best I could towards what I saw on the horizon, which was beginning to emerge and which seemed to be a forest.
What could I be faced with in such an environment?
Was the island populated?
So many questions that remained for the moment unanswered as I was at the edge of the forest but that would very quickly settle down when I was going to penetrate the depth of it.
Life, a jungle
Driven by curiosity, I went to the arboreal landscape which was a few feet away, and which I could see, lush with greenery.
It was a fairly dense forest, dominated by a few giants of about sixty meters, whose bushy crown served as a parasol to a damp undergrowth swarming with woodlice and ants hidden under the decaying dead leaves.
Underlining these tall trees, other trees, robust and with green foliage and garnished, let hang vines and aerial roots on this humic forest land.
As I walked through the heart of the forest, I could hear the sweet music of crickets and birds performing in symphony a magnificent concerto that seemed to set the tone for a peaceful night.
Surreptitiously casting a glance towards the firmament, I realized that I had a short time before dusk and I took the initiative to find myself a safe place to spend the night.
But how can one expect to be safe when alone, surrounded by hungry beasts, poisonous snakes and many other wild animals?
I undertook to pick up branches in order to make a fire.
Cutting, throughout my peregrination, preferably branches and withered twigs, I saw, lurking in the brush, an enormous snake.
The latter slowly raised his thick body, inflated his red crest and his eyes lit up in his monstrous head wearing shiny scales.
Instinctively, I sent him a violent blow to the head with the stick that I had just picked up and the reptile rushed into the tall grass and disappeared.
After collecting enough wood, I put the fagot in a bald place and I crouched a few moments to think.
The easiest thing had been accomplished, now I had to light the fire with the archaic method of the two pieces of wood.
One to be used as a support was placed on the floor, while the second in a vertical position was embedded in a slot containing a few dry twigs.
After prolonged friction of the two pieces of wood, a smoke escaped at the twigs. So I hovered over to fan the first embers and the first flame appeared.
This is how I could, thanks to these ancestral techniques, develop a campfire and have a little heat.
I warmed up for a few moments near it because the night had brought with it a touch of freshness, then I got up to look for some food that could satisfy my craving.
I had noticed during my previous walk, that the forest floor was littered with mushrooms of all kinds.
I reaped some without any indication of their edibility.
I ate them all.
I returned to my heat source where I let myself be captivated by the flutter of light-loving insects, which attracted by the incandescence of the wood fire, circled tirelessly around it.
Sitting cross-legged, I followed with admiration the phosphorescent evolution of fireflies and lamprey that produced flashes of light in this dark night.
I really felt the happiness to contemplate and listen to this orchestration of movements and sounds.
By the beauty of the show, I even managed to forget the sinister place in which I was.
However, I was once more cut off from my ecstatic state when the atmosphere filled with a coppery haze and the cumulus sky dropped torrents of water on the frightened hair of the woods.
In a flash I found myself wet from head to toe as if I had been sprayed with a bucket of water: I had just been surprised by a torrential downpour.
My fire had gone out and fireproof wood.
I was gazing at the heavens in disappointment, asking for the help of providence when I heard a voice whisper:
"Lie down and fear nothing, you will tremble first, but then you will see an unknown bliss flood your senses and your being"
Then, the sky calmed down and the rain stopped.
The fire, so hard to achieve, was gone, and now I was shaking with cold.
Lying on a base that had become muddy, I writhed in all directions, desperately trying to fall asleep, but the specter of the moon on the trunks of trees ebbing haunted my thoughts.
Obsessed with the incongruous sound of owls hooting, crickets sizzling, parrots chattering and monkeys shrill cries, I couldn't close my eyes.
Shivers ran down my back, my hair stood on my head, my heart beat faster and my mind conjured visions of devouring monsters.
All around me, I saw in the dark darkness, the bright eyes of the owls that stared at me tirelessly and I felt pullulate a multitude of fat black rats virulent.
Frightened by this apocalyptic scene, I wanted to make a cry of panic but I could open my mouth, no sound came out.
So I wanted to run away but my limbs were paralyzed by fear.
Not knowing what to do, I took the branches of the fagot to fight the innumerable ghosts and creatures that I had imagined around me, but my projectiles could not reach them.
I became agoraphobic of a world that did not really exist.
Suddenly, I was seized with spasms that made me tremble like a person with epilepsy.
Immediately my convulsions began, my breathing became difficult and I began to suffocate and my complexion became pale as if I was going to exhale from this terrible agony.
Then suddenly, nothing. The evil had gone off as oddly as it had happened.
Head between the two knees, the body coated with sweat after waving in all directions, I began to think, curled up on myself, brought back to the state of fetus.
It was horrible to have the feeling of being attracted to nothingness and to find yourself in the abyss without being able to react, to be a man-object, an object that death could manipulate as it pleases.
I felt really weak and helpless.
Exhausted, huddled against a tree, I remembered a throbbing day of my childhood, spent in the country, in the house of my parents.
A moment that I will never forget ...
Reminiscence
Leaving for a walk not far from the house, I walked slowly through an expanse of grass, harmoniously mingling a multicolored flora of dandelions, clovers, petunias, and inhaling the perfumed air which had perfumed the scent of these magnificent flowers.
In the wake of my progress, I saw that the flowers had bent over me as if to salute my presence, and that grasshoppers, ladybirds, and other beetles spread their wings and flew up into the air like a remarkable firework.
In front of me was a wonderful, unequivocal spectacle.
Devouring this splendid meadow with my eyes, I exclaimed: "Life, I love you ..."
Above this green carpet was a pale sun whose rays were filtered by large gray clouds.
Suddenly a violent flash of lightning, followed by a deafening roar, broke the placid atmosphere that reigned in the heavens, and a torrential downpour fell on the willows which, driven by gusts, moved.
I decided to take shelter under one of these trees so as not to be too wet by the rain.
Stopped as a picket at the foot of the tree, I turned my gaze to the heights of the tree, where the green leaves, animated by the breath of wind performed a frantic dance while the yellow-orange leaves fell, their branches, in the calm waters of the lake.
While waiting for the downpour to stop, I followed the large drops of water that staggered through the innervated limb of a lanceolate leaf.
Leaning against the sturdy trunk, I admired and listened to the innumerable frogs, sitting on the banks of a lake, croaking as if to thank the sky for the abundance of insects that had fallen into their greedy mouths.
The rain intensified and fell on the river that swelled and threatened to leave its banks.
Suddenly, I realized that I was in danger because it had been explained to me that standing under a tree during a thunderstorm was an extremely dangerous thing and that it was absolutely necessary to avoid it.
Going from inertia to a hundred-meter run, I scurried down the tall grass towards the river.
I managed to get out of breath and sat on the bank to regain my senses.
As soon as I had placed my buttocks on the wet, muddy ground, a violent flash of lightning was heard in the sky: lightning had just fallen and struck down the tree that had been my shelter.
"If I stayed in that place, I was only a handful of extra seconds ..." I thought.
I was shaking and chattering not because I was wet from head to toe, but because I had just been so close to death ...
Curled up, sitting in a fetal position, I looked out at the horizon with ducks dabbling in the midst of reeds and blue water-lilies.
With a bold flight, a male swan, who had come in the air, began to describe large circles, and then fell on the water beside his companion, thrilling her plumage with snow.
At this sight, I shuddered with joy.
The torrential rain continued to fall on the meadow, but I did not even feel it anymore.
I was still in shock, traumatized by what had just happened, and sitting, my head in my hands, I followed with admiring eyes, fish swimming between the green and brown algae.
Then, plunging my hand sharply into the translucent water, I tried to catch one.
With a smile on my face, I withdrew my hand from the water and when I opened it, I saw that it contained only mud.
However, this mass was teeming with life: worms, insect larvae, leeches and many other animalcules lurked in this decaying environment.
With a haughty air, I got rid of this mud on the shore.
Then I leaned over to wash my hands as I slid on the base of the bank and found myself in the water.
There, I shouted with all my strength because I did not know how to swim.
Sneaking into the murky waters of the lake, I thought I was going to drown myself when I felt a hand grip me vigorously.
Someone inadvertently withdrew from the claws of death.
It was my father who saved me ...
The reminiscence of this episode of my life carried in my heart a flood of nostalgia.
I regretted these good times spent with my family, moments of joy, of laughter, but also of tensions and, enveloped by these regrets of child, I let myself be carried in the arms of Morpheus.
In harmony with nature
The next morning, I was awakened by the singing in chorus of the fauna, who organized a real concerto in my honor.
Perched on a tree, a parrot sporting almost every color of the rainbow on its plumage began a cacophony while variegated birds of a thousand colors chanted over my head.
In a coordination of movements chimpanzees moved with ease from branch to branch.
Ateles and other varieties of monkeys were hanging from the trees, upside down, grimacing and shrieking as they saw me.
I got up from my bed, stretched out to alleviate the aches and pains of a harsh night, and began to walk the forest in search of new sensations.
I was walking on the wet blanket of the ground, where there were swarms, weevils, slugs and insects of all kinds, when I saw, in front of me, a dung beetle that had made a ball of dung and rolled it to its place of nesting with his hind legs like a circus acrobat.
On his way was a tiny tree-frog whose translucent skin showed the frantic beat of his heart.
At the approach of the sacred scarab, the little frog unfolded her legs and jumped away from them.
Further on, I witnessed the frantic ballet of butterflies and hummingbirds, who, attracted by the bright colors of the flowers, flew over it.
A butterfly on a eucalyptus flower particularly captivated my attention by shimmering its metallic blue wings when moving them.
This lepidopteran was slowly extracting, with its proboscis, the nectar of this beautiful flower when I saw, concealed in the entangled stems of a shrub, a chameleon heterochromic which advanced with a sad step.
A master in the camouflage technique, the chameleon proved to be an excellent predator because of its ability to blend in with a given environment by changing color.
I did not want such a denouement before my eyes.
I rushed to the animal gesturing in all directions.
The butterfly flew away.
I was proud of what I had undertaken.
Whistling gaily, I continued my walk, in a state of bliss, when, I saw, standing on its black legs, a splendid fungus with cephalothorax and silvery limbs which was digging in the ground a nest intended to receive its eggs.
The spider with golden streaks lined with extreme coordination and precision of movement, this depression of a beautiful white canvas, quite compact, luminous and immaculate.
I dodged it, skirting it gently.
Progressing in the forest biodiversity or various citrus fruits were in abundance, I gavai these fruits because I had undergone the effects of a hallucinogenic mushroom the night behind.
That night, I had suffered the agony of fear and I did not want that anymore.
Having eaten satiety, I had to find a place where I could be safe from all these anxieties.
The crickets had just started their “hymn to the setting sun” as a warning of the approaching night and I quickened my pace.
Suddenly I saw, just a few feet away, an opening in a boulder.
It looked like the entrance to a cave.
I stood for a moment in front of the gaping opening of the cave and rolling my eyes in gratitude I exclaimed:
" Thanks my God ! "
There, struck by the divine breath, I fell on my knees and began a prayer, staring at the firmament riddled with the glitter of a myriad of stars.
I had just realized that God had never abandoned me and was always watching over me.
How could I have doubted the Love of God, I who had always been a very believer?
At that moment, my eyes let lachrymal beads run down my hollow cheeks. Then, wiping my eyelids with the back of my hand, I got up and crossed the entrance to the cavern ...
Trauma of a birth
When I entered the dark tunnel of the cave, a cloud of staccato-flying bats came out of the cave to disappear in the darkness of the night.
Exhausted by the hard day that I had just passed, I sat down against the wall of the cave.
A few moments later I fell asleep at the entrance of this cavity.
The next day, when my eyes opened, I felt the throbbing pain of a horsefly sting that had pierced my skin during the night.
Some rays of sun penetrating the entrance of the cave allowed me to distinguish a piece of wood.
I stood up phlegmatically and walked languidly to the branch that would serve me as a torch throughout my progress in the underground.
I lit it and began my long journey to the depths of the earth.
The flame I held convulsively in my trembling hand projected its vague glow into endless darkness.
I used a narrow and winding subway in which I went bent in two.
From time to time, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and then continued to engulf myself deeper into the cavity.
In this descent into hell, I felt the cold invading my body deep in my bowels and my lungs compress and fade like a dried flower.
Soon, my breathing became hoarse.
The heavy and oppressive air of this excavation threatened to extinguish the flame, which, vacillating, was losing its ardor.
I was going to be in total darkness when finally, after a long walk in the labyrinths of this underground a large gallery opened to my eyes.
In the belly of the earth had formed calcareous concretions of stalagmites and stalactites which outlined an enormous spider's web and I, I represented a miserable prey caught inside its meshes.
In order to get out of this chasm, I walked along the walls of the cave, revealing to me the mysteries of time immemorial.
On these walls, I was intrigued by rock paintings representative of funerary scenes and hunting parties.
This parietal art, engraved on the rock walls of the cave gave me the strange feeling of going back in time:
I saw myself, armed with a spear, facing mastodons of more than five tons, and braving, with rustic devices, the inclemencies of an unforeseeable nature.
Identifying myself with the Australopithecus, I felt the anguish of death spread slowly along my sickly body, causing my heartbeat to increase and the excessive beating of my heart gave me the appalling feeling that he was going, piercing the thin cutaneous film of my fleshly envelope, to extricate myself violently.
I crouched, holding my left pectoral, fearing myocardial infarction, when I saw seeping between the pebbles, a long trickle of water spread over the base of the cave.
The idea of following his course like the breadcrumbs came suddenly to enlighten my mind and I straightened up to try to get out of this chasm at the earliest.
Following the course of the seepage water, I arrived at a place where the water table had accumulated in a real lagoon like a metal that is poured into a crucible.
There, suspended above my head, a huge stalactite threatened to fall on me, like a sword of Damocles.
I could not go any further and I had to make a decision.
I thought a few moments ...
Finally, I took a deep breath to immerse myself in the clear waters of the lagoon.
I snorkeled between the rocks for about a minute when I saw a few meters above me, a light penetrating the waters.
I accelerated the beating of my feet to finally reach the surface with a loud cry of relief.
Out of the bowels of the earth, I sat on the bank to catch my breath when, suddenly, I felt a presentiment.
I turned around just in time to see a dark, ghostly form rush to me.
Strong arms entangled me, choked me, and I was beaten so badly that I lost consciousness.
Expiatory sacrifice
When I opened my eyelids, a strange sight unfolded before me.
I had never seen such curious faces as these individuals.
They were horribly dirty, barely covered with rags, their long, tangled hair falling on their faces, and their eyes glittered with fire.
Standing in front of a big fire was a sorcerer emeritus with a sinister look.
He was dressed in his black mage attire:
necklace made of skull washers, apron of carved and openwork human bones, magic daggers on the waist.
He stared at me with eyes that like arrow loopholes threw poisoned arrows at me.
My heart froze with terror.
Advancing towards me, he sketched gestural discharges by chanting incantations in low voices.
A long procession followed:
the magician, with powerful occult powers, seemed to dialogue with the spirits and I understood that my fate depended on the outcome of this interview with the hereafter.
The wind howled and moaned as if the demons were asking for me to be sacrificed to appease their wrath.
My face turned pale as I saw a giant pot on burning charcoal.
Was I going to become the meal of these cannibalistic natives?
The wizard pulled out his magic knife and lacerated my hands.
From these small cuts, the mage collected in a bowl a certain quantity of blood which he hastened to drink.
Suddenly, the sorcerer, in a trance, was seized with convulsions and he began to spin on himself at a vertiginous speed.
All of a sudden, he fell to the floor, struck down.
He paused in that position for a moment, then slowly raised his head and looked at me.
With a sudden gesture he called for a chicken to be brought to him.
He cut the throat of the big white chicken and poured his blood on the dusty earth of the camp.
This libation was accepted as an auspicious offering by the Gods as the mage smiled.
He went back to me and asked vehemently that I should be detached,
this was hastily executed by two shamans assistants, subordinated to the grand master in the tribal hierarchy.
Released from my bonds, they took care of me by pouring my blood and applying a kind of black paste, then, I was joined to the rest of the tribe who had gathered around the fire where the religious ceremony should take end.
Before concocting the chicken in the big pot, the shaman eviscerated the rooster and once again performed the divinatory sciences in his bowels.
During the rite, no words were allowed except that of the great mage who presided over the altar
and no one had the right to flout the sacredness of the ceremony on pain of suffering the harsh retribution of a blasphemous act:
for having departed from the rule, he was immediately sacrificed.
Fortunately none of this happened.
For my part, the ritual went as planned:
I was delighted to eat this poultry instead of me being prepared as a feast and I savored every bite with delight.
At the end of the ceremony, I was taken to a cabin and left there alone.
In the night, I heard the sarcasm, the laughter and the palaver of the natives but I did not understand what they were saying.
Leaving my extravagant imagination, I told myself that they must surely be wondering where I came from, why I had such a look and what they would do with me the days to come.
Victim of my insomnia, I wondered about my future.
Would I see my family again?
Would I one day return to civilization, the very one that pushed me to leave all those I loved for an unknown land?
I had found this island paradise where I could be free from the chains of civilization but only this place was already occupied and I had to confront the requirements of a completely different society.
These savages at first sight seemed to live in an archaic system devoid of any legislation, but I was soon going to integrate the fundamental laws and taboos of the tribe at the price of losing once again my integrity and my freedom.
Rencontre fortuite
From the first light of dawn the sun flooded the landscape with its golden light.
I was given a decoction with a foul stench on the wounds and was given a drink made from medicinal plants and roots.
Then a very beautiful woman with fairy fingers massaged with application and tenderness my sore body.
I was enveloped as a mummy of leaves with therapeutic virtues that we took care to tie with small lianas.
I lay on my back for almost a week and every day, at the same time, I saw the soft silhouette of the beautiful native cut out in the light of the door and enter the box.
As soon as I saw his shadow all my soul was invaded by immeasurable bliss.
This woman, whose wild appearance appealed to me, was beautiful.
Her glamorous appearance awakened all my senses as I watched her.
With her ocher-colored skin, her hazel eyes, her long black hair and her radiant smile, she was so beautiful ... that I decided to name her " Houri ”.
This woman with divine beauty began each time the same ritual: kneeling next to my mattress, she gently lifted my head to give me strange beverages with herbs and aromatic roots and then applied to change my poultices.
When she plunged into my feverish eyes her tender gaze, her long hair came to sweep my face like the caress of a light wind.
She took care of me as if I had been one of her relatives and she showed a special benevolence by staying by my side and bringing with her a touch of warmth through her presence.
I did not know her yet but I was struck by the tenderness she lavished on me and I waited for these moments of care with passionate impatience.
I began to take a liking to my convalescence situation, and I wish it never ended.
Because once I was healed, what would happen to me again?
Initiation
I was doing much better and my bruises had almost disappeared, leaving only slight scars.
One day when I was waiting for the visit of my Houri, I saw to my great disappointment the intrusion of the great shaman into the hut.
He unfolded his mat, sat cross-legged with me, and threw cowries and bones on the ground, murmuring foolish words.
The wizard questioned the dead and once again asked the ancestors to help him with the decision.
Drawing on the sand strange associations between symbols and iconographic figurines, he schematized the tests that I had to succeed
in order to get the right to join the tribe.
The initiation rite was clearly defined by the supernormal forces involved.
I had to succeed brilliantly three events,
trials that allowed me to penetrate the very restricted sphere of the initiates.
This area was exclusively for men.
This initiation to life represented the transition from childhood to the adult's state of subjective independence.
Only men had the right to freedom, while women depended materially and psychologically on their husbands.
The first test involved the control of fear and all the fright and psychosis that an individual experiencing loneliness and stress could feel.
I went to my great delight to find this beautiful forest and stay there for three days.
The second test was that I could defeat one of the bravest warriors of the clan to test my courage and physical performance.
In the third and final test, I had to make a work of art with my own hands in order to test my intellectual and artistic skills and release my creative energies.
No one was allowed to interfere in my initiation to provide me with any assistance.
Moreover, I did not need any help because the contingencies of life had allowed me, in the past, to face similar situations.
Thus I had obtained a certain psychic strength and a mastery of myself worthy of the most illustrious Lama and I honorably surmounted these three trials.
On a moonlit night, I endure the last sacraments in the privacy of a sacred forest.
For this animist people believed very much in the spirits of nature and had a high regard for the trees they treated with respect.
The ceremony consisted of an assembly of some initiates was presided by the great mage.
My head was shaved, and I was repeatedly wiped to clear the slags of my old nature and cleanse my body.
Afterwards, the sorcerer flooded me with sacred words while coating my body with an unctioning supernatural.
The rite ended with a hieratic gesture from the great magus: prostrate before him, he made me take, under the most severe imprecations, the oath of silence and loyalty, then he knelt me and gave me a bow and a white arrow, phallus symbol.
So, I was greeted on behalf of the whole assembly as a brother and as a future initiate.
Early morning, RIts scarlet color came out of its lair and the resurgence of that fireball symbolized the resurrection of my person into another existential system.
I had officially become a member of the tribe and a whole new life was going to start for me.
Sacred Union
The next day I became the husband of Houri, that enchantress who had bewitched me by her love potion during my moments of weakness.
In this great ceremony celebrated in my honor I was completely enchanted by the harmonious coordination of the songs and the frenetic dances which unfolded before me.
At the beginning of the ceremony, dancers gently followed the rhythmic music of the tom-toms, then the crescendo rhythm led to Dionysian trances and orgies.
These women surrendered entirely to the rhythm by slowly waving their hips, as if some cosmic perpetual movements were expressed by their bodies.
This coordination of movements and energies was carried out in harmony.
They danced twirling, arms outstretched, a little like the Sufi dervishes, taking an extraordinary amount of energy all around them.
At the sound of the tambourines, the natives clapped their hands to encourage the dancers who swayed their bodies to the rhythm of the music.
They performed these movements with wonderful majesty and gave me a spectacle of incredible beauty.
These dances showed some mystifying power and my eyes were intoxicated with their spell.
I was totally surprised when two women seated by my side took my hands and carried me into an improvised choreography.
Then, the music accelerated and expanded to take a crazy pace. Suddenly, at the height of intensity, the drums stopped and everyone stopped.
So I returned to my place, accompanied by a wave of applause and congratulations from all sides.
Undoubtedly, there was an atmosphere of communion and fraternity that I had rarely experienced before.
All my soul was haloed by a whirlwind of Love and joy and I stood speechless, bewildered by the exoticism of this ceremony.
Later, when the sun was setting in a splendid riot of bloody red, and we were all gathered around a big crackling fire, we ate with joy a sumptuous meal, listening assiduously to the head of the village to tell tales and legendary myths.
Thus, by a magnificent evening, I and Houri were solemnly united for life.
Funeral belief
I had been particularly struck by the tribal system of these natives.
Indeed, this society was mysteriously imbued with occult ceremonies.
The initiation of men, marriage and mourning gave rise to ritual ceremonies:
When a member of the tribe died, a commemorative ceremony was immediately organized during which lamentations began to rise which continued fortissimo during the night and then gradually diminished with the duration of the funeral:
Overwhelmed, some women showed their distress by rolling in the sand and hysterically screaming.
Some lacerated the body or flickered themselves moaning and reciting the praises of the deceased.
Immediately after the death, a group of insiders had to respectfully treat the body of the deceased so as not to offend his soul.
His body was then smeared with red clay mixed with oil and trephined so that the soul escapes from the imprisonment of his carnal envelope to return to the heavenly fields.
Afterwards, the body was buried in a tomb with its belongings because the opinion was that the human body contained a main spirit that was immortal and that continued its mission in the afterlife when it had been aborted in this world .
The belief in spells was so deeply rooted that when a member of the tribe became ill, he did not feel that his condition was due to a health failure.
He attributed it to the anger of one of the many gods he had had to offend.
His mind was anxious to remember if he had not voluntarily or involuntarily broken one of the many laws of the taboo and had to confess before the great shaman who, with his supranormal powers, was the only one able to to deliver from his evil.
Thus the great shaman held exclusively the ritual secrets and was extraordinarily reluctant to reveal them to others than to initiates specially chosen by the healer as guardians of the keys to knowledge.
Thanks to this process, the culture and ancestral beliefs of these natives have been perpetuated from generation to generation to this day.
Tribal system
I was especially fascinated by the organization of this tribe which was perfectly hierarchical and structured.
Everyone had a job to do for society, and when one had fulfilled one's civic duty, one had to go to other religious obligations.
The respective tasks were divided according to the tribal position of the individual:
women and children on the one hand; the men of the other.
From the first rays of the sun, the women washed under a cataract, the clothes with heavy blows of beating, singing a hymn of encouragement while the men provided with long spears fished in the clear waters of the sea.
Later in the day, we went hunting, supplemented by our dogs Boubou and Titus who assisted us in the capture of game.
In a quiver we carried on our backs we had our arrows poisoned with curare, which everyone had taken care to make.
It was not only necessary to master the technique of camouflage to blend in with nature as a true chameleon, but also to show great dexterity so as not to miss the prey at the right moment.
After a hard day's hunting, when we returned to the camp with the game, our wives who were waiting for us with anxious patience exploded with joy and wrapped us in their sprawling arms.
A little further, the children, who were also watching for our return, were playing antics in the sand of the camp.
They jumped with joy at seeing us come back from the hunt and ran to meet us by clamoring our names.
Then the women got busy cooking in large red earthenware pots.
These ceramics served for the concoction of game.
I appreciated the culinary qualities of these women who used many aromatic herbs for the preparation of dishes.
I was fond of this spicy gastronomy that changed the tasteless meals of Westerners and what I took above all was the fact that we all eat in the same container, in order to strengthen the bonds of brotherhood within the tribe.
Just after dinner, we sneaked away, me and Houri, to spend long hours bathing under the falls of the river.
Then we slipped into the intimacy of a thick foliage of the shore, sheltered from the mocking glances of the rest of the tribe who considered our affair with amused benevolence.
Then, after a night spent under the stars, when we felt the morning dew caressing our skin, we intertwined even more strongly to dissolve in a multitude of pleasures.
With her, the past no longer existed, the future did not matter, only the present moment counted.
I would have liked these moments to be frozen for eternity and that nothing could alter this Love.
However, one day, when everyone had returned to the village and the sun was disappearing on the horizon, I watched, shemale on the beach, the swell that crashed on the shore and hemming the beach and I was enveloped by a stream of nostalgia.
Spleen
I was nonchalantly lying on the heated sand and I scanned the horizon which, pierced by the last rays of the setting sun, took on a yellow-orange hue.
As this magnificent landscape faded before my amazed eyes, I listened to the song of the seagulls which like sirens seemed to call me and tell me to come, and I heard the crashing of the waves crashing with crashing on the rocks lead.
I was delighted by the combination of these sounds and the sweet music that resulted and I was slowly closing the eyelids, a smile of fullness.
The melancholy look, I thought of my family that I had left without news and I became aware of the omnipresence of the symbolic umbilical cord that connected me to my roots.
I realized that going away from my parents had allowed me to become aware of the Love I had for them.
I felt now this lack in my life and the indispensable place that they occupied in my existence.
My feeling was that an existence is not worth living without the salt of Love and the warmth of words.
I needed to talk, talk to someone and open my heart.
But here, I felt like I was alone in the world.
Suddenly, as an answer to my distress, a hand came to rest on my shoulder: it was Houri who, having been worried about my absence, had come to get me.
She clung firmly to my arm and we returned to the camp.
On the way, she told me that she understood me and that she would respect my decision if she was to go back to my homeland.
She knew how to read my thoughts.
She seemed serene and zen in all her attitude, but I felt emphatically that her heart was bruised with grief.
She did not shed a tear because knowing that it would happen one day, she was psychologically prepared for a possible split.
She told me that she was ready to face my departure and that it would not affect her too much, then, arrived near the village, she let go of my hand, accelerated the pace and rushed in the meanders of a narrow path , its evanescent silhouette disappearing on the horizon.
Stitch
I had left civilization for so long.
Three years already ...
One thousand ninety-five days in this land, far from all technologies, monetary systems and sciences, where I had learned to listen to trees, flowers and birds, because they speak to us:
they come to tell us, when we are attentive to their word, that paradise is not the prerogative of a post-mortem life but very present in the most elementary things of nature.
I had spent so much time looking for love, security, satisfaction ...
But I had learned during this trip that happiness was elusive in itself, simply, because the only way to get it is to give it to others without murmuring, without hesitation and without regret.
The next morning, after a long night of reflection, I told the tribe of my desire to leave the island.
I received a beautiful homily from the great shaman who was against the fact that I want to leave my wife, Houri.
But, however, he gave me his consent swept with remonstrance.
There was a commemorative feast in my honor and then the next day, at the first light of day, the old wizard ordered that we cut down some trees for the making of a small boat.
A week later, the whole tribe was on the shore.
Some offered me something symbolic as to express their feeling of friendship towards me.
The great shaman, that enigmatic and taciturn personage, astonished me when he let out a few words from his mouth.
He said these words to me:
"Rativata shitoni tivatou cocomora kisanfi
ajasou mirugaga maha titikouaka iruba "
which meant
"The light of consciousness is in you when you understand that the quest for the unknown and your thirst for the unspeakable will end."
Then he handed me his frail hand and gave me one of his fetishes which was to protect me throughout my journey.
I thanked him, nodding.
The most painful moment came when Houri approached the boat.
As she advanced, her eyes showed all her distress.
Touching my lips, she gave me a light kiss and then withdrew.
Then a great silence seized the whole atmosphere.
So, immersed in this tranquility, I devoured one last time this paradisiacal island, without saying a word, without splitting this splendid panorama into a small image, telling me this was a bird or that it was a tree, but taking this landscape in its entirety, leaving me totally impregnated by its fullness.
Finally, after this moment of intense contemplation, I embarked nourished by a feeling of joy mixed with bitterness, turning my back on this beautiful epic in the land of all totems and taboos.
This adventure proved to be a fabulous initiatory journey for the liberation of my soul, who once captivated with matter, enters the upper layers of consciousness today.
Thus, freed from my anguish of fears, my doubts, my worries of yesterday and tomorrow, living exclusively on the present day, my existence has become like a transparent ocean without waves or waves.
After having been tossed by the wind like a wretched straw on the collective unconscious of men, I had finally known the great truth and understood my mission.
Then, as the sun disappeared on the horizon, I moved away towards an uncertain horizon, leaving behind a vast trail spread out in the wake of my boat, seeing at the same time extinguish the illusion of a perfect world ...
Confession of a shipwrecked
I was always sailing on the waves of the great sea, which, by its benevolence, watched over its avatar and warned me of daily dangers.
Curiously, no more tumult, no more devastating storm, no more cyclone reminding me of the existential chaos, instead a placid and serene ocean, without excess or impetuous overflowing.
To believe that the Maraître who constantly inflicted on me her torments and tortures had turned around and had decided to show magnanimity towards me.
Having seen myself helpless, she would have turned to my pitiful nature.
I dare to suppose that by the intercession of the prayers of my friends, I have obtained the favor of the Gods.
Bullshit and nonsense!
Don't gods and divinities symbolize the imagos of our parents idealized and internalized in our subconscious?
All of this really cannot have any real, objective meaning!
Victim of our illusions and fantasies, doesn't life simply become a waking dream, a dream where we, the protagonists, just undergo and watch passively?
Are our actions not just hints to try to get out of this existential nightmare?
Are we something other than the fruit of millions of years of history that our ancestors, our ancestors, our parents have successively bequeathed to us and of which we more or less estimate the importance?
Realizing that the alternation of Order and chaos is an endless circadian process where the contingency of events fluctuates in the sandstones of the imponderables, I came to the conclusion that intermittent turbulence and lulls formed the backbone of my life.
Thus, I am only the product of the time during which the stochastic events of my existence have piled up like silt when the floods of the Nile come to set themselves up as a hillock symbolizing the successive layers of happiness and suffering that have occurred. deposited in my life.
I will drink, certainly the drink of the drunkenness of the ephemeral happiness and will certainly taste the gall of the suffering, but without that it disturbs my conception of our existence and even if sometimes the life looks like a pit where the damned souls wander without the hope, where the strident cries of the clueless ones feel the flesh in putrefaction, where the grinding of teeth are synonymous with punishment, It is sometimes enough to look at the bottom of the abyss to notice emerge the sign of redemption, a source of hope that will allow me to remain incorruptible and unalterable despite the vicissitudes of time.
Crossing on the high seas
After getting lost in some existential reflections, I came back to inquire about my current situation and the means I had to survive this perilous adventure.
I was always in the grip of the oceanic convulsions that shook me unceremoniously, like a straw and my boat was still drifting at sea currents.