Lead into Gold

The synchronicity continues, even as I leave the east coast for the
west, my old home for my new.

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho had been sitting on my self for about a
year now. During my visit to Florida, it sat in my backpack. I
started it on the flight home. I cannot express in words how this
book as transformed me from beginning to end over an eight-hour
trip. Just suddenly, everything seems right. For instance, the
book creates a myth of all the philosophies I have been reading about
lately -- the unity of the all things, living in the present, faith.
I know that the book would not have struck me so profoundly had I
read it a year ago when I first bought it. The journey of the
protagonist reminds me that everything happens for a reason and as it
should. It points to the simplicity of wisdom and of the ability to
be one with the Soul of the World. I feel at peace with my visit
with my mother and with leaving her to come back to my own home. I
also feel, more or less, at peace with what is to come as I
reconstruct my life here after a lengthy five week absence, a time
that probably seems short to those I left behind, but which has been
a long journey for me.

At the end of the book, I was left wondering what my Personal Legend
is and whether or not I am truly following it.

". . . before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests
everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because
it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams,
master the lessons we've learned as we've moved toward that dream.
That's the point at which most people give up. . . . Every search
begins with beginner's luck. And every search ends with the victor's
being severely tested." (132)

I feel I go through cycles of luck and testing. A lot of testing.
Yet, I am writing, I am reading, I am meditating on all that
happened; I have not given up just as I am about to reach the oasis.
But I just don't have the clarity of a dream besides having peace and
love in my life.

I also found the parallel between my own desert metaphors scattered
in my blog and the symbolism of the desert versus the oasis (where
Santiago's true love resides) uncanny. i, sadly, only seem to find
mirages as of yet. Or perhaps I am not seeing clearly.