Even though I am not mainly a storyteller as a writer, there are times where I write short stories in Hebrew and English. The following story is one of the stories I've written thus far. Enjoy! I will consider adding more philosophical stories in the future.
“I wish you were dead!” screamed the desert hermit in front of no one in particular, well, at least externally no one.
A hermit’s life may not necessarily be dull, lacking or boring, as some or many may claim. Living by your own for long periods of time can discover the inner richness in one’s consciousness and subconsciousness - for the good and for the bad. This is why many people are not fit enough to be by themselves for the long term - who knows what hideous creatures may lurk inside each and every one of their constantly chattering mind?
“Why, why aren’t you all dead already?!” Shouted the hermit from the comforts of his little hermitage. He had a bad time throughout the day. He wanted to use this particular day for philosophical contemplation, awake and aware. However things did not turned the way he wished them to be, and instead he begun to sense what he calls “the demons of anxiety” or “the guardians of the locked neck” start to arouse and stress his strong yet thin muscles. He did not leave his entire family, friends and career as a merchant for anxiety! He did it to evolve into a higher self.
But these annoying pests of repressed demons seem to be always awake more than he shall ever be, and always watching, like some sort of a big brother. If he wanted to be supervised he would have gone to a joint monastery, where the monks live as a one big commune. He didn’t wanted anything of that. He had enough social activities in his childhood. This is the period, although young, he shall live as a desert hermit for the rest of his life. Anyway, it is too late to return back, as he lost the way back long ago, and generally has no idea where he is in comparison to the world. His social identity is non-existent now, so it is of no use in the silent great desert, where the only sounds of living come only from you.
As the day passed and the night begun to shine its darkness and stars upon the earth, the frustrated, bearded hermit have declared that it is enough and he should sleep, for he needs to gather more water and supplies in long, long walks under the heat of the merciless sun. Fortunately he built his residence upon a high point, where he may find himself when lost and, hopefully not, under danger.
And so his anxiety begun to sink and sink into the unknown abyss of the subconscious, and thus the legions of demons have left him, for now, at least. Finally, when he begun to be in the kingdom of dreams, he encountered a certain maiden he has seen at some point of his young life. The dream itself wasn’t as much detailed as he would hoped, but the inner projection of the maiden, all covered in blue robes of blue like the sea and the sky, simply said:
“As a solitaire, if you wish for your inner demons to be dead, you first must be dead yourself, killing them in the process”.
The young hermit, knowing that he chose his life directly because he wanted to live, has decided to spare his inner enemies, and to welcome them into his humble abode in the sea of sand. It seems that even in the most remote of places on the land, one always has neighbors, whether inside him or outside of him. Like he knew from his former life among the civilization in an overpopulated city. the only thing one can do with noisy neighbors while staying alive - is to live in peace with them.
So the young hermit remembered from his past, and so he shall do from now on with the entities that lurk beyond the walls of his consciousness, in an apartment he may never know who, or what, is going on in there. And so, he has reborn.