Waking Up

a.j.k. o'donnell
2 min readDec 20, 2022


It was a liminal path, that opened to the forest. Neither dusk nor dawn, but both.

Into the clearing I entered.

There was a collection of kindle in the center.

From the trees, figures started coming forth. I knew each one.









So many more. They were all there. Twirling around.

Until a figure came to me. They flickered, I struggled to understand who they were, though I knew I knew them.

I asked “who are you?”

They said “I am Light and Darkness.”

I asked “why did you bring me here?”

They said “to bring you Home.”

Light and Darkness turned around. And shifted my gaze to the kindle.

Grief went first. Walking to the center, they stood there, and dissolved into what I can only describe as Source. Then Faith. Then Happiness. Then Hate. Then Doubt. One by one they all become one with this radiating Source.

Shame. Shame came last. They crawled to the Source, and then, they too entered it.

Taking my hand, Light and Darkness walked me to the Source. Kissed my forehead, and said “come Home.” Then they too, entered the Source.

I stood there. Afraid. Unknown. The forest had dissolved with the Light and Darkness. There was only me and the Source — and I entered it.

In the Source, I was weeping. Weeping and weeping. Until the Source spoke to me.

“I am Love” the Source said. “All else is a part of me.”

And I still did not understand. So I asked “what of sin? What of forgiveness? What of being saved? What of mercy? What of grace?”

Love said

“Sin is pouring oil on your clothes.

Grace is realizing there is a way to stop pouring.

Mercy is realizing it was never stained.

And Love.

Love is the leap from knowledge into the remembering that you were never clothed.

You have always been naked.”

Astounded, I asked “where am I?”

Love chuckled “where you have always been. Eden. Home. Here. With me. You never left.”

And I opened my eyes.

I wept.

I got up and walked with Love.

Continued: https://medium.com/@ajko/grandmothers-chuckle-366bde5bc98a



a.j.k. o'donnell

wordsmith, activist, and artist. She is the author of the collection "This Void Beckons". www.ajkodonnell.com