Mel's Closet of Nearly Useful Stuff

Many places have their own souls. Energy runs through all things, however that doesn't mean that it flows in exactly the same way. Much like the varying speeds and shapes of rivers, the energy twists and slows depending on terrain. Sleepy little villages could be the calm, deep pools of bedrock where the energy lazily gathers while speedy urban areas represent the treacherous rapids.

And then there are the stagnating puddles of grime and disease. Cut off from the central flow except during floods, the poison sits and seeps, slowly infecting everything around it, especially those trapped with no other watering hole to access.

We are the directors of the flow. We create the barriers of hate and ignorance that breed stagnation. We also spread enlightenment and joy, speeding the flow of energy through us and out into the world around us. That is where the magic comes from. That is how places begin to feel holy, sacred, safe.

And as I look at the world around me, at both my immediate surroundings and the kingdom I find myself in, some part of me cringes and whimpers at the abundance of stagnation and the lack of majestic waterfalls.

So, this is what a world feels like when its people have lost their way.

When's my return flight departing? I'd like to go home now.