Box

I am treading water in a dark, vast ocean, the tide nearly pulling me in so I have no control at all. I kick; my arms flail, and I gasp for breath as the water level hits right below my jaw. But with the rolling of the waves, it covers my mouth and nose, allowing only my frightened eyes to see the diminishing light of day.

Anxiety is about to overcome me, and I reach back into the far reaches of my brain grasping for sanity. There, in the hidden, dust covered corner of my mind is a small, fragile looking box labeled "inner peace." The box looks as though it has gone untouched for months, possibly years. The worries of a thousand days, and the fears of a thousand nights have kept me from this box. I reach, stretching beyond my limited capacity, meanwhile the roaring of the water, and the rushing of the wind is getting louder and louder in the forefront of my consciousness.

My fingertips barely grace the side. It pushes it a fraction of an inch away. The harder I reach, the more unattainable it is. Yet, something from the chambers of my heart urges me to go on, just a little further, almost there. With a grunt of determination and exertion, I reach with all that's left in me and grab hold of the box. In my panic, it drops on its side and the lid topples off. But no matter, my effort was not in vain. Glorious, brilliant, blinding light fills my mind and in the midst of an ocean of trouble and disaster, I am filled with that seemingly unattainable desire: peace.