Remembering 'Us'
A journey through whispers, mirrors, and silk—where two souls remember and reunite.
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A mystical tale of love and introspection. |
The Hand That Was Let Go
Before time, before breath, before the illusion of ‘I’ and ‘you’, there was only ‘us’. We were a single resonance, a single heartbeat cradled in the palm of the Infinite, before hunger, before fear, before the first letting go.But then came the call to journey; a sacred invitation to experience 'I' so that we might one day choose ‘us’ again.
The Labyrinth of Life beckoned, and as we stepped through its threshold, our hands slipped apart. We were gently released, separate and yearning, into its winding corridors.
This is the story of that journey; a remembrance. A reflection. It is neither a quest nor one of distance.
The First Stage: The Corridor of Whispers
It is long, dark, and lined with walls of velvet that muffle sound and distort direction. Here, the soul is alone.The only guidance comes from within; the faint, persistent whisper of a voice that feels like home. It is the memory of love, the echo of our shared heartbeat.
But the Labyrinth is cruel in its kindness. It does not silence the other voices; it amplifies them, knowing that the soul, in its loneliness, will crave any company, even the echo of its own fears.
It plays tricks. The whisper is joined by a cacophony of others: the seductive call of ambition, the fearful drone of insecurity, the intoxicating hum of desire; the urge to check a message, the pull of familiar streets.
These are the voices of the world, loud and demanding, for they speak the language of the body and the ego; tongues we already know well.
They promise success, security, pleasure. They tell us who we should be, what we should want.
Many travellers get lost here. They mistake the loudest voice for the truest one.
They follow the call of ego, chasing a validation that never satisfies.
They forget the original, gentle whisper that guided them in.
They become strangers to their own souls;
Their journey ends in a deeper, more profound isolation rather than a reunion.
Some, however, learns the cost of listening. They learn that to follow the whisper is to walk against the current of the world.
It is a path of profound loneliness — a holy loneliness, not a hollow. They learn to listen with the heart, to discern the subtle frequency of love amidst the noise.
They close their eyes to the distractions and place their trust in the quiet, steady pulse that only they can recognise. They follow it, step by step, deeper into the mystery.
The Second Stage: The Room of Mirrors
Following the whisper faithfully leads to the Room of Mirrors.This is no ordinary room. It is a vast hall of endless reflections, and every mirror shows a different version of ‘you’.
One mirror shows another you, powerful and adored.
Another shows a version of you, wealthy beyond measure.
The third mirror shows a lost version of yourself, in hedonistic pleasure, free from all responsibility.
And so on...
This is the greatest test of the Labyrinth.
The temptation is to choose a reflection and try to make it real—to believe that the perfected image in the glass is a destiny to be claimed.
We reach for it, only to find our hand met with the cold, hard surface of the glass. It is the foolish act of trying to touch a dream, to possess a phantom.
The mirror shatters with a painful crack. The glorious release we were hoping for never materialised.
And what’s left in the shards? We see a fractured, broken self. We have chosen a lie, and the consequence is self-destruction. We have forgotten that our true face is a presence to be felt, blinded by a reflection we love to see.
The soul that endures is the one that understands the nature of the test. They realise the mirrors are not gateways, but barriers. They are distractions; the world’s definition of success, not the soul’s definition of fulfilment.
Instead of looking at the mirrors, they closes their eyes and looks within. They turn away from the glittering promises and focus again on that inner vibration.
They remember that their true self is not an image to be perfected, but a feeling to be honoured.
By rejecting the false idols, they find the unseen door that leads out of the hall and deeper into the Labyrinth’s heart.
The door does not appear until the last mirror is ignored, for it was never hidden by magic, only by our own distracted gaze.
This stage is a place of rest, but also of choice. Only a soul that has known true peace can consciously choose to risk that peace for the sake of another. Only a whole soul can freely offer a piece of itself.
In the centre of this garden, the soul waits. It waits patiently, with a quiet certainty, like a flower waiting for the sun.
The final stage is not a place, but an event: the Union.The Third Stage: The Garden of Silk
Beyond the illusions of the self lies the Garden of Silk. It is a place of profound, almost overwhelming beauty.The air is thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and damp earth. Here, beauty is not a trick of the light or a siren’s call; it is the very substance of the place, a truth that can be felt in every breath.
The trees are draped in silken moss, and every flower seems to glow with an inner light. This is the sanctuary of the soul, a place of peace and deep, abiding love.
Here, the whisper is no longer just a sound; it is a feeling. It is the warmth of the sun on the skin, the softness of the moss underfoot, the gentle caress of the air.
Here, the whisper is no longer just a sound; it is a feeling. It is the warmth of the sun on the skin, the softness of the moss underfoot, the gentle caress of the air.
The vibration is no longer just a memory; it is a resonance that harmonises with the entire garden.
The soul feels at home. It feels safe. It feels loved.
This stage is a place of rest, but also of choice. Only a soul that has known true peace can consciously choose to risk that peace for the sake of another. Only a whole soul can freely offer a piece of itself.
Having rejected the world’s definitions and the ego’s illusions, the soul is finally in a place of authenticity. Here, it can simply be.
But the Labyrinth’s purpose is reunion, not solitary peace. The soul must now make the final, conscious choice to seek out its other half.
It must choose love over solitude, union over peace; a choice made from a place of wholeness. The decision is not desperately made.
It is the decision to say, “I am complete, but I am more complete with you.”
In the centre of this garden, the soul waits. It waits patiently, with a quiet certainty, like a flower waiting for the sun.
It waits for the other, for the final, sacred convergence.
The Final Stage: The Union
When two souls, having navigated the Corridor of Whispers, passed the test of the Room of Mirrors, and found peace in the Garden of Silk, finally see each other, and the labyrinth feels like a memory, lingering softly.
There is no grand ceremony.
There is no dramatic pronouncement.
There is only recognition.
A turning. A seeing.
A turning. A seeing.
It is the moment two travellers look at each other and see no stranger. In that single, timeless glance, the entire journey, every wrong turn, every moment of doubt, every step taken in faith is instantly understood and forgiven.
They see the journey reflected in the other’s eyes.
The wounds from the shattered mirrors leave scars, and they see those scars as constellations mapping the way back to each other. They carry the peace of the garden and the unwavering light of the whisper they both followed.
Their hands do not reach out in desperation. Instead, with quiet certainty, as their fingers touch, the Labyrinth dissolves.
The velvet walls fall away, the mirrors turn to dust, and the silk garden folds into a single, perfect point of light. The two separate heartbeats, which have been pulsing in lonely harmony for so long, merge into one.
The echo becomes the source. The vibration becomes the stillness.
This is the end of the journey.
This is the return to the beginning.
The Labyrinth of Life is not a trap; it is a crucible. It is the sacred process by which a single love is forged into two, so that it might choose to become one again.
The journey is long, the path is dark, and many are lost. But for those who listen, for those who remember, for those who choose love at every turn, the final Union is not just a destination.
It is the end of seeking, and the beginning of being. It's home.
About This Labyrinth
This story is not a guide, a checklist, or a spiritual how-to. It is a remembrance, a reflection on love, loss, and the long journey back to wholeness. Its aim is to resonate with those who have felt the quiet echoes of longing, the subtle pull of a shared heartbeat, and the courage to face the self. Think of it as a companion for reflection, not a manual for life or an instruction.
— Zephyr
FOR THE ONE WHO FEELS IT
