esson 18: The Spear Castle

   Some prelim clarification: When I moved from Florida to Switzerland, I put a lot of personal possessions in storage. When I was in Fla on vacation a few months later, I went to retreive it, and it was gone. (Auctioned off due to a clerical error.) It was (and remains) a hard loss to take. So when I refer to "my stuff," that's what I mean.

he Spear Castle appears to be one large circular hall. There are many bookshelves along the perimeter, filled with huge tomes and various artifacts. Here are N.A. arrowheads and here Roman coins and there beautiful Egyptian jewelry. The floor is a brightly-polished mosaic--hey! it's my tattoo! In the center of the pattern is a hole, with a ladder leading down into the depths of the mountain. I see only darkness below. I see a candle holder which resembles one of my mother-in-law's antiques. Good thing I'm still in my 'street clothes' and have a lighter in my pocket! So equipped, I descend.

   Hey, here's some of my stuff! My photos! Even my college degree is here. I have to sit and look at some of these photos. There's me at 17 with my first Camaro. Oh well, guess I ain't gonna be a race car driver after all. And the rock and roll days . . . all those men . . . why did I take their pictures . . . ego? i.e. "Look at the beautiful and famous people I know"? Who cares? I've got THE MAN now! I certainly can't go questing with all this stuff burdening me. I'll never again wonder what happened to my stuff if I just torch it with this candle here and now. Doesn't hurt nearly as much as the first time I lost it.

   By the light of the flames, I see that someone has begun a much better 'photo album' for me. Here are paintings of previous generations of my family on the wall. I'll paint myself in that empty space. Good thing this is a round castle, so there's no danger of painting myself into a corner. As I paint, I wonder if these others were here before me, and painted themselves . . .

   I've seen the depths, now I want to see the heights. I return to the main hall. In the back of my mind, I wonder if some of my lost books are here too, but I have no urge to browse books at the moment. So what if I find them? I don't want to carry them with me, anywhere but in my head.

   Opposite the entrance is a ladder reaching up to a trap door to the roof. Up I go, emerging into the fresh air. It's a bit chilly at this height, even in summer. The roof is a flat brick surface, with a slightly raised [one brick height & width] edge all around.

   A magnificent view! There's a small village in the valley far below. I can see a lake in the distance on the other side. In another direction, I see the hills become snow-capped mountains far away. From this direction, a bird flies toward me, and now I can make out that it's a raven. "Come fly with me," he says. "But I don't have my hang-glider with me," I reply. "AW!" he screams chastisingly, as he returns to his mate. Time to move on . . .