A journey towards Independent

A new Journey

A New Journey

The beautiful coastal town of Windhaven which was surrounded in mist like the town had been born from the sea itself. When she ventured on the cobblestone path for the first time, she breathed in deeply feeling the town wore a blanket of fog as if it were a secret and the very darkness of the place encouraged a fire within her curiosity.

The cottages themselves were painted in a color, each cottage bore witness to the artistic passion of this close knit community. Doors were opened with enthusiasm and warm friendly rooms filled with small tokens of the occupants personalities there were seashells on a windowsill, there was bright abstract painting. Jashmin continued to walk aimlessly on the twisted roads and was delighted to see the busy market square. There were stalls of locally made products ranging from crafts to fresh fruits and vegetables; children were playing joyfully while the residents of the area engaged themselves in animated discussions as they commenced the day.

Jashmin’s heart filled with happiness and with eagerness to meet them. To leave the crazy life and come to this secret place she felt more right with every tick on the clock. In Windhaven, those narrow paths gave a sort of unspoken promise with hope. It made her feel strong and at the same time peaceful and the lighthouse rising high above the ground. It had a lovely sound which seemed to say to her, ‘wake up, there is a fresh day ahead and new things to discover.’ The element of color used to paint the lighthouse is white; contrast to the grey and rough cliffs on which the lighthouse is built and its structure shows no signs of giving in to the force of the turbulent sea where she seeks in her new found freedom. It was a lighthouse and it informed people where to find their way back home or where those souls lost at Sea could find their way. Jashmin looked up at the sky and smiled, she was lost her minds in clouds.

She could picture it as the place which had seen arrival and departures, happiness and sadness, passion and grief. Maybe, she could write her story into existence, becoming part of its history. She marched through the streets of Windhaven with the purpose of her mission in mind. The people of the village accepted her with polite head bows and subtle smiles. There was a lady knitting a scarf in various colorful shades of the rainbow and she was a lady of certain age, maybe in her seventies. They looked at each other and the woman smiled further, it seemed as if she saw the light of survival in the frightened eyes of Jasmine. ‘When did you come here, dear?’ The woman inquired sweetly, her voice was warm honey.

“I just moved in yesterday,” Jasmine replied her voice shaking slightly as she spoke. “I have found a little cottage very close to the cliffs.” said the Jasmine. The woman's smile grew even wider and said, ‘this is a beautiful place’, and the wild flowers welcomes the morning like an old friend’, Jasmine felt her heart becoming lighter. Gently it landed in the familiar world of her thoughts and the rolling sound. Windhaven was such a place; it had a way of finding itself in people’s hearts even if the people it targeted were utterly tired. With the lighthouse looming behind them and its beam steady on the sea she realized that Windhaven was a part of her story, a permanent change. A land where the stroke of her existence would be dedicated towards the path of healing, affection, and understanding. This time, Jasmine had the feeling of the past floating away from her as the tide came in. In this little town, during the painting of waves and colors, she realized she had a rebirth of her life and the story of her life would be painted here in those beautiful colors.