The Significance of Being Insignificant

The world is but a fragment sliced from the celestial womb of creation and cast to ellipse the heavens

Last year I was spring cleaning in my attic and found treasure! It was a shoe box bound by a dusty, red off color string of yarn. It had been at least several years since I arranged the attic so I honestly did not have a clue as to what was in this slightly heavy box I found. When I opened it, I peered at a book stuffed with folded loose papers. They were my old writings from middle school all the way through college. I had reduced the amount of time I wrote creatively to only once or twice every year or so since I had left college. Furthermore, the writings I did have were scribbled on unbound pieces of paper and scattered across a variety of locations including inside books, notebooks, clothing pockets, drawers, well, you get the picture. Finding this box was a sign. Well, one sign.

Also last year, my younger sister Elyssa passed away. She was only 29 years old. Elyssa and I were extremely close. We experienced so many great adventures together. Losing her was like having a piece of my heart and mind ripped away. The sun rises and sets each day since, but I now see it with an altered perspective, with shaded eyes. I grieve her loss and will continue to do so most likely until I join her in the afterlife. A week after the funeral, I was home sitting on the floor of my room sobbing. In between the blurred vision, I observed the treasure I had found in my attic sitting across the room under my night stand. While the chaotic shift of my world was taking place, I had forgotten all about what I had found. I opened it and flipped through the loose pages. I stopped on one titled Feelings. Here is what I wrote:

My thoughts are woven into my tears.

Seems like forever as they cascade down my face.

There is a sting from the breeze.

Is God drying my tears, telling me it will be alright?

Will it?

Thoughts of devotion, responsibility plague my mind.

Thoughts of fear!

Will my tears every dry?

I wrote this while in college. Although my literary expression was originally inspired by the pressures of being a student athlete, these words still managed to pierce me like a spear as I read them. I began to hyperventilate as my own words crystallized through my teared lenses. It was in this moment I finally began to feel the presence of my sister again. I missed her and feeling her there with me overwhelmed my senses. I felt sad but peaceful. Reading my words in that moment reverberated with the voice of Elyssa within my head. 

Her body was gone but her essence, influence and embrace were not. She lingered and persisted through me. I knew in that moment she was telling me to stop waiting for the perfect moment to do what I love. To do what connects me to the significance of what connects us all. Grief, love, anger, despair and joy should never stop me from connecting to the people within this world and those who have passed through it. Rather, it should fuel me to endure. This is when I began to write my first book inspired by her memory.

My first book, tentatively titled Eyes of Shadow: The Myth of Oblivion, is a fantastical epic that follows the lives of two main characters, Edward and Astraea, who have somehow tapped into the ancient power and knowledge of the gods. This power was never intended to be accessible by the mortals that shepherd this world. However, not all the gods believe their power should be constrained to the heavens. Because the thoughts and beliefs of gods tend to manifest, conduits have opened between the ethereal and physical realm allowing those who are worthy to access great power and thereby, great influence upon the elements of this world, drawing from the well of creation.

Eyes of Shadow: The Myth of Oblivion will be book one of a three part series. Every journey and adventure begins from a life changing event. Please join my blog as I share in my adventures and spark discussions centered on my book series debut of Eyes of Shadow. I will also give you sneak peeks into the world of Eyes of Shadow by sharing small excerpts from my manuscript. I am but a speck from the womb that is creation. The creation source where my sister now dwells. I would be honored to share my aspect of that stream of consciousness with you through my expressions.

Stay tuned!

Sincerely,

E. Shawn Tomes
Follow me on Twitter: @therealstomes