Conversations With The Sun

by: k. jefferson



"So what does it mean?" he asks me, wide-eyed and curious, on yesterday as he studies my tattoo.

"It's the Om symbol. It means the seen/unseen, manifest/unmanifest, omnipotent/omnipresent, oneness/wholeness, the absolute...everything there was, is, and ever will be. I chant it "Om" when I meditate to connect with the universe."

"Why that one?" he probes.

"Well, because it symbolizes what phase I'm approaching in life right now. . . and well. . . since tattoos are pretty permanent and I have no regrets in life, in a way it also symbolizes how strongly I'm committing myself to what it stands for."

"I see. So what does the old one on your foot mean?" he continues.

"That one's a symbol for the word 'Rebel'," I reply.

"And so why that one? And why on your foot?" he presses on.

"Because...when a person takes that first step towards enlightenment, initially they rebel in a sense. They are choosing in that moment to go against the grain. You often go through a process of learning and seeking greater knowledge but also un-learning or rejecting everything you've been taught. It's like your eyes are opening for the first time and everything you thought to be true about the world, you soon discover, is not at all what you've been programmed to think it is. You start going around trying to tell everyone to know about this "new" knowledge you've acquired. You quote texts & can cite scriptures, books, documents, you've read. You have a point to prove. So, you're a rebel then. . . but that is the first step. A baby step. That's why it's on my foot...the lowest part of my body."

"Okay, I see." he nods. "And so now you have the Om symbol."

"Yes, I have the Om symbol now...because I've grown out of that old phase over the years, and I've been slowly transitioning over to this new one. It's higher up on my body. On my hand. . . my right one. . . my dominant hand that I do everything with - especially write and create. The right brain controls the left side - which is subconscious/creative/abstract/dream energy and the left brain controls the right side of the body - which is conscious/analytical/logical/physical energy. Since my right hand is my writing hand (controlled by the left brain), I want to always use it as a weapon for good.

I want what I'm doing in this life to have a positive impact in the long run. I want to reach people and access something deep inside them. I don't want to be just another person simply existing while seeing the conditions of the world and doing nothing about it. . . moving on with some insignificant personal life, and getting wrapped up in shit that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, while there's so much on the planet that needs healing. I want to be a bridge...a connection...something that unites different social classes, religions & races of people. I need to see that happen.

I need to experience true inner peace. That's where I'm at right now...and as I slide further over into this stage, I know one of the main lessons is to first achieve that peace within myself before I can mirror it in the world around me. Mastery through discipline, mental clarity, meditation, focus, humanitarianism, selfless acts, patience, peaceful resolution, philosophy, universal love, etc...and no longer by force, coercion, debates, protest, competition, a need to prove one's self/worth, egotism & rebellion. I need to feel "one" with it all...but I can't if it's all scattered and divided. So I have to do my part to help change that...inside me first though. Then out there." I explain...forgetting that he's just a boy for a moment and probably doesn't comprehend all of this.

I was wrong for doubting him.

He grabs my hand from across the bed and squeezes it as he stares over at me. "So it's more than just a tattoo. It's like a barrier. It channels your energy but helps you keep it under control. The left side is already calm. You know how to use it already. You're comfortable with that side.That's why you're putting them on the right side...to help you balance. I understand..."

He does.

And I love him even more for it.

He must have felt the thought when it surfaced. Half kneeling & half laying on the bed, he gets up from his spot, walks around to where I am sitting on the bed, and hugs me tightly.

No more words between us. We stay this way for several minutes...until I break the awkward silence humorously (as I always do whenever I'm nervous or afraid of feeling too vulnerable), "I'm sorry that your mother's a hippy."

He shakes his head, and asks jokingly,"Who are you? Are you my mother?". Then continues with, "Cuz you're saying that like something's wrong with it," as he stares at me.

I smile while holding back tears I don't want him to see. He leaves the room for a moment, watery eyed.

I cry for the 2nd time in one day (which is so overwhelming & out of character for me - lol). I wipe my eyes and clear my throat before he steps back in.

The moment is done. Another experience has been gained, and will be filed in the deep recesses of our memory banks forever.

I go back to hiding behind my armor as means of protection while I do my part to ensure the world's a better place....for him...and for all the suns & moons of the future.

"Let's watch a movie," I suggest.

Back to normal. Or so I thought.

"So...when are you getting another one?" he asks before we move on.

I tell him, "When it's time."



- kj