“Whatever you live for actually owns you.
You do not really control yourself.
Whatever you live for and love the most controls you.”
― Timothy J. Keller
There are no shadows, no candles, no throne, no darkness. Instead, the room is split in half by two orgone pyramids: one emanates a deep indigo through lapis, the other a forest green bursting from a peridot tree of life and green aventurine. Ceridwin sits cross legged precisely centered between where the shades meet as if meditating. Her usually sharp eyes remain shut, her posture loose as though relaxation radiates through her entire body. Her chest gently heaves with a deep breath, and she purses her lips just as Moses parted the sea.
“Dear, sweet, Jonah…” Ceridwen’s tone trickles out otherworldly, twinkling with a motherly instinct far beyond her years. “If we are to believe THAT text, you must attend to great suffering before you begin anew and are allowed to fulfill your purpose. Phil Vischer once said that God was not punishing Jonah in the Bible, but saving him from drowning. I disagree. Jonah’s experience was a cruel consequence of rebellion, but I intend to save you that unnecessary torment.” The nurturing quality she has refused to gift anyone else holds a syrupy sweetness not soaked in insincere praise but in the deepest of concerns.
“Rest assured, I will not command you to travel to any destination you wish not go. I do not intend to cast you into the sea, unless you choose to be. I refuse to ruin you in order for you to reify redemption. I cannot make that judgment. Only you have that power, and only if you truly believe it.” A heavy sigh escapes her. She knows the poor boy who will soon stand before her is fully unprepared for that leap of belief. Finally, her eyes flutter open, and they shimmer with sadness.
“Mister Aspinwall, I am called to be but a path toward your future. The lesson I shall impart upon you at Triumph shall not be pleasant nor painless. But, the physical discomfort will dissipate; that kind of pain is a temporary side effect with endless examples of escapism. There is medicine for every malady of the flesh…” she pauses and her eyes fall to the floor. “Unfortunately, my darling boy, that is the easy part. The beauty, or the burden, comes from the bruises no one else knows are there.”
“I see you, Child.” The hushed words escape through clenched teeth. “Less than one month ago, you stated that you are willing to risk your life for this.” The final word slithers from her tongue, a symbolic hiss . “This is why you are where you are.” Ceridwen bites her bottom lip.
“That obsession rules your every action. Jonah, think back to your match with Mister Rivera…” The pagan gives her opponent an opportunity to recall the confrontation. “It took mere seconds and a single slap for Alejandro to take control of your consciousness. I will concede that your rage paid dividends for a brief moment, and as you drove your kneecaps into his head, I saw that you are not just willing to die, but willing to kill as well.” A devious smile begins to form in the corner of her lip. “The problem is not that you will do what is necessary, the problem is that you allow that desperation to possess you. You had Alejandro where you wanted, but that lack of discipline led you right into an elbow and King’s Landing. Does that seem wise, Jonah? Was it worth it?” Ceridwen tilts her head and blinks. She raises her right pointer finger and clicks her tongue.
“Jonah,
You did not lose that match because you are not talented.
You were not defeated because Alejandro Rivera is better than you.
You did not fail because you are not special.
You were not pinned because you do not possess greatness.
Listen to me carefully–
“YOU DO,” she snarls. Her raised pointer finger curls inward, making a circle with her thumb. Ceridwen raises her knuckle to her mouth and bites down, using the pain to hold back the urge to unleash her old tendency of verbal violence.
“You allowed your love for this life to dictate your defeat. You tied a leash around your own throat and allowed it to lead you. At Triumph, if you are willing...
I will take it off.”
Her fists unfurl and her face falls further into dejection.
“One day, should you choose to truly consider the wisdom I will wash you in,
I promise you this:
You WILL be the The Aerial Ace.
You WILL be the king of the top turnbuckle.
You WILL wear the crown you crave which Alejandro crudely claims as his own…” She grimaces and begins to tremble. She slams her eyes shut and clenches her fists.
“Until then, you face the same misfortune. You will find yourself helpless, wallowing in the waves, not of god, of your own making. You are not wasting your potential, Jonah. Alejandro was wrong. You simply do not have the necessary control…
I warned Fallon Stone, and she chose not to listen.
She refused to do the work.
Do not make that same mistake.
I do not lie. I do not tell tales.
I am the lesson you must learn.” A harsh burst of air shoots through her nostrils.
"Unto the lord Jonah said, ‘I beseech thee, my life from me; for it is better for me to die than to live.’ Do not sacrifice yourself. It is so unnecessary."
A final sigh escapes Ceridwen as she leans forward, arching her head downward as if to pray.
“Jonah, you are your own whale.
That desperation you drape yourself in will be what swallows you whole,
and it will take far longer than three days and three nights to find dry land.
You are your own Nineveh,
and the only who who can reduce your strength to rubble
is you.”
Tue Jul 02, 2024 5:35 pm by 
Subject: Rewrite the Book of Jonah 
