The Pharaoh Cave



Pharaoh Maktuk  enters his cave. Its a dimly lit room which provides such tranquility in such an isolated time in his life. His fingers start drilling the macbook like an army of angry jackhammers. He sometimes has to stop to think about what he’d like to write, but when he has an idea and a direction, the words flow like rain.

Pharaoh is in-joy in this peaceful and quiet cave. He accomplishes much in this place. He brushes through books while illustrating in them. He feels books should be painted in as much as they are observed from a distance. Sometimes he feels lost, looking for the correct passage, although he jots them down in a phone-note. Perhaps sticky-notes would be more effective. There’s always room to improve for the next work of art.

Sometimes when he’d rather hear the words of the angels sing. He closes the book and takes a break. Chris Martin and Jason Mraz have such elevating voices with wide ranges, but more importantly are the voice they instill that echoes throughout his cave. These voices transcend him into a higher plane. The plane soars through the sky, but the pilot reminds him he needs to do his leg stretches to continue the rehabilitation of his knee.

The two tangled, albino snakes come from the holes in the wall. They are a necessity in this cave. Without these snakes there would be no energy for the processor of the caveman. There would also be no source of warmth for his knee prior to exercises. An old, warn out belt still has elasticity and strength to stretch the muscles in his leg. What he previously considered trash is now a priceless treasure.

After he does the required exercises to strengthen his atrophied leg, he elevates off the cushiony cave and props himself on the earth. He puts his arms on both side of his body and starts lowering himself into the earth and elevating himself towards the heavens. He does several repetitions of this routine until his arms quiver and his chest burns. He continues pushing himself to the limit as if he’s thrusting downwards on a beautiful geisha. No-one is beneath him.

He then decides to lay on his back and lift his legs into the air. He doesn’t spread them, as if waiting for a lover, but instead constricts them and curls his abdomen upwards until they feel like battery acid. From all the intensity on his abdomen his back begins to become a liability. He reaches into the treasure chest for one asset to remedy the poison in his back: a tennis ball. He props the tennis ball under his back and rolls around alleviating any stiffness in his back caused by the abdomen curls. The crunches and kinks are out and he’s ready to sit back on the colorful cushions.

Pharaoh will be leaving to Barcelona Tuesday morning. He will need to vacate his cave. He no longer will be isolated. He thinks of a crowded cafe with many inhabitants sharing the space in this bright and colorful cave. The smell of roasted coffee as well as whipped cream and the birds chattering away discussing their plans of flight once they exit the cafe.

He sees himself approaching one of these birds. He asks her her name. She says she would prefer to stay in her cave and not be bothered. He respects her wishes because he too needed time alone his cave at one point. He approaches a second bird. A cheerful dove engrossed in her own macbook. She seems busy, but her beauty blinds him to all logic and reason and he thinks it would be a sin not to attempt conversation with her. They share their coffees and discuss different places they’ve traveled to. She’s so much brighter than the crow he approached previously, but the crows darkness wouldn’t allow him to fully appreciate the doves light. Rejection doesn’t bother him like it used to, and only motivates him to venture out of his cave and never stop approaching.  Pharaoh is certainly one hope-full romantic.

I posted a few pictures of where I like to blog, workout, do rehab exercises on my knee, listen to music, and watch TV shows. I truly love this room. It is so peaceful, and I will miss it since I’m leaving to Barcelona in a couple of days. Excited to start exploring and connecting with people again, but when in doubt, I have my metaphysical cave to return to if I ever need a safe place to reflect with compassion. Where do you like to blog? What is your place of peace?


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