The music stopped. I came back to my senses. It is just a toy. A glitter globe. A glass ball filled with colorful shimmering confetti that churn up and make a festive and merry scenery when shaken. But this one is different. It has a built-in music that plays when you turn the key, making the whole stuff somewhat pleasing and sweet. I turned the key again. The music is like a lullaby, so dulcet, so angelic. The kind of melody that makes you reminiscent.. and broody.. and dreamy.. And so I thought.

It was the Christmas of 2013 when my mother and I bought the glitter globe. There were a number of other colorful designs on the shelf to choose from.. Glitter globes with a girl in a dress holding a basket of flowers, a couple of babies dressed like a prince and a princess sitting on a bench that is surrounded with more flowers, a baby sailor looking out from his ship. Cute. Hovering my eyes over a stack of these spherical toys, I found a particular design that caught my attention. Not only does it sound like my name, it also has some degree of essence and depth that I cannot fully explain. A windmill. Aside from having it as my former alias on my Instagram account, I have developed a vague fondness on this kind of contraption ever since. What’s odd is that I haven’t even seen one in real life and yet I get an obscure feeling whenever I happen to see one either in pictures or on T.V. The windmill inside the glass dome of the toy is placed over ceramic figures of teddy bears, wagon, an old farmhouse, and other random etchings. Immediately, I grabbed it and purchased it after checking if it had any defect.

At home, I would often shake the globe and watch how the glitters slowly fall down through the water. I would listen to the dreamy music while letting every note of the tune condescend with the movements of the falling particles around the windmill.. I would watch every single flitter as they lay on the surface of the motionless structure.. And just when the music stopped, all the shiny particles laid still.. Just as how the windmill stops spinning when there is no wind.

The inevitability of windmills, as they have been used ever since the sixth century by the Persians, lies in the fact that they will only function when there is the presence of either water or wind. These natural resources were then being used as a power source to supply these machines in order to be utilized for various activities at the time. Thereabouts, the designs of windmills were as ancient as the discovery that water and wind can actually serve as an energy source for grinding grains into flour. As the centuries progressed, the windmills gained its prominence around the 18th century in Europe, making it a power generating machine as technology is being harnessed.

So then, how does it relate to my fancies?

The wind blows the windmill’s shafts. In return, the shafts spin in the direction the wind blows. The windmill is designed to face and catch the most wind so that it can function the way it is supposed to. In short, the windmill faces the direction of the wind and utilizes the most wind that it can get as possible in order to be useful, in order to be a windmill per se.

One can say that windmills move with the wind, just as how I can say that I go with the wind. It is inevitable to be a windmill and be blown by the wind, just as it is inescapable to be me and be carried away by life. Windmills follow the instincts of nature, just as how I must live by the laws and freedom of life..

Amazing, isn’t it, that as the windmills succumb to the power of nature, I, on the other hand, must also humble myself before the Highest Power.

As they obey the wind, they generate more powers (energy) to supply those that need them..

Do I resemble the windmills? Do I face the wind blown to my path, or do I steer away and escape? Am I like the shafts that spin the way as the current of air tells them so? Do I really care about the direction where I am going, or am I directionless and going wayward in my journey? I do not know where the wind is taking me. But this is one thing that I know: I am where I need to be. The blows of life are all meant to put me in motion, to generate more sense, depth, and meaning in my existence. I do not know, for sure, for how long this wind is going to blow, and where the next direction might be. But that is where the beauty of life is- it’s in the uncertainties, the unknowns, the grinding and milling, the crushing and cutting, and finally the formation of an outcome. They are all needed. They are all unavoidable. They are all a part of fate.. A part of existence and of life.

The music was over. The glitter globe was, again, silent. The glimmering little things were once again motionless. And so was I. Silence. Nothingness. I was hushed by a gush of wind in my mind! I picked up the toy and held it in my hands. You little thing. Why do you have to teach me so many things? At that moment, I turned the key once more. The air was filled with the music again. And again.. And again…

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2 thoughts on “The Windmill

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