There we sat, at the edge of the water, at dusk, looking at the sun dipping slowly into the edge of the world. And she asks me out of nowhere, “What does heaven look to you?” 

I couldn’t bring forth an image in my mind on such short notice, so I took a moment. And slowly, agonizingly slowly, a scene did form in my heart’s vision. “I’d be sitting on the bank of a field,” I began, “looking at the leisurely rustling bunch of orange trees I sowed last season. The air would be buzzing with the bees and the trees would be singing as the larks passed over them. The sky above would be the clearest blue with white cotton candy clouds stuck in place, as if in an old painting. And if I focused well enough, I’d smell the fragrance of the little orange orbs just beginning to swell on their branches.” I said, “yes, that would be it for me.” 

“Is that it?” she said. 

“What do you mean? Is that not serene enough for you?” I looked at her cheek, wondering what more could she desire? “What does your heaven look like?”

“I’d want to be swinging on a little paddle of a swing hanging from a great oak just outside of a lively village, the north wind playing with my hair. My clouds won’t be stuck in place, they’d be fleeting, as if chasing the running sun. my sky would be an orchestra, full of not only your larks but every other songbird you know. I’d not have any of your orange orchards, but a whole market full of oranges, apples and all sorts of flowers. There’d be water, a whole river full, with boats carrying in the most fragrant spices, brought in by great travellers.” Her face exuded an expression as if she were already there. “Your heaven is only half alive.” She said. 

“And yours is drunk.” I reposted.

“I’d fall asleep in your heaven, not absorbing anything.” She quipped.

“And I’d be lost in yours, unable to breathe.” I exclaimed. 

It was easy to get carried away. So easy to lose the bigger idea behind this tug of ideas, of imaginations swimming every which way for something that was so indescribable, so incredible. And perhaps, at that precise moment, we both understood it, for she said aloud the very words I had been thinking, “Maybe we should each try the other’s first.” 

“Maybe we should. But it’s kind of strange how I’ve just been thinking the same thing.”

“Is it strange though?” She asked, smiling.

And just like we had no idea whatsoever how we came up with the same thought at the same time, we burst out laughing.

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Author’s Note:

It’s been quite a while since I’ve been writing here. Mainly because I have been busy with exploring a few things on my own. And then there have been certain unpleasant days too. Of course, we are not going to talk about that. What else can I say, consistency is something I have always struggled with.

Anyways, about this post — it is not always possible that the thoughts of the people most important in our lives are always going to match ours. But it’s always possible to stop, look at the other’s perspective, and merge it with our own. and I’ve seen it in action. I can’t say that I have fixed every arising problem with this approach, but I have certainly gained a better appreciation the other person’s thoughts. And that is something I cherish above all these days.

Thank you for reading, please leave your thoughts below in the comments, it makes me want to come back more often, and think...