The North of the Inner Compass

by J.I. Co

     I was the captain of this humble ship, and I named it, quite fittingly, Life. I am the master of its course, for I am the captain after all. The destination is unclear, yet the inner compass of me shouts that I had somewhere to go. It was starkly dark everywhere around (perplexingly so!), and I was confused: which way to go?

     Several big ships, shining brightly with their lights, pass by (somehow, frustratingly flattering, pretty much all named their ship after mine); they seemed to see with clarity that which I seek, so I simply asked, “Which way to go? Which way to that destination where all of our inner compasses shout of?”

One pointed due north, and he called that final spot which we seek the Land of Good Works. Yet another captain, a jolly fun fellow, simply shouted that we were captains: damned be the fool who endlessly seeks a destination from others, who better to dictate the destination of his ship than the captain himself? A third captain drew close his ship to mine, and he whispered a mantra of sorts and told of a land of milk and honey in the promising Land of Religion. Then another ship came, and he threw a thick book at my head to get my attention. He told me of his findings, of his experiments, of his logic, of his reason, and he advised me with classy intonations that I shouldn’t rely on such misguided sayings, but that I should use my captain’s brain to think of such questions as my destination. Several more captains with their big boats passed, and they told of different destinations.

     But nothing shook me; nothing excited my inner compass.

     It was starkly dark in the entire horizon, and I was confused: which way to go?

     Suddenly Light shines down, right at me, and darkness flees the scene. I heard some man drowning in the sea, but the Light was so bright that I had to look down to shield my eyes. Then, for the first time, I clearly saw my ship.  It was disgusting! And anger shot out my mouth, and I blamed the sea for dirtying my precious ship! But the Light shone brighter and brighter, and it became clearer and clearer: the dirt was mine. And I grew ashamed. And I felt guilt for not cleaning it. And I felt desperate, for I knew this filth on my ship could no longer be cleaned.

     But the Light grew brighter, and soon not only my ship was seen, but the sea as well. I realized that I had kept the drowning man waiting, so, curiously, I stepped forward to look to the sea. Then I saw that the whole ocean was dark red.

     And I saw the queerest sight: a queer captain, drowning in the deep sea, yet queerly, not drowning. He had been shouting out to me, but again, queerly not for help. Apparently, he has been shouting for a while now to tell me something, and queerly, I have never truly heard the words he spoke of. Queerer still, it occurred to me that I only truly heard his words when the Light almost blinded me just a few moments ago. So I hoisted a rope, and threw it to the queer captain. He waved no, thank you. Queerer and queerer indeed. He saw my puzzled face, so he kindly drew back and started from the beginning of his message.

“I once had a ship too, and it was quite the dirty ship. I only realized this as you did when the Light suddenly shone on me. Queer thing, queer thing. That filth won’t go away, I guarantee that. No, no. But I got my ship clean! And I’ll tell you how right today!”

     He had piqued my curiosity, and the queer conversation went on. I soon learned many a thing. The queer captain told me he got his ship clean by sinking his ship into this red sea. What! He must be joking. He told me the red sea was called the Blood of Christ, and the drowning and not drowning thing is one of the best parts of it all. Yes, I have pretty much confirmed his insanity at this point.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I still have my ship, but now I have let its course be run by the currents of the Ocean. You know why I choose to drown and not drown instead of boarding your ship? Because this is where I wish to be. This is where my inner compass finally rested peacefully. I wish you would understand. It has always been better to drown and not drown with another companion.”

     And it shook me, and it excited my inner compass.

     Was he telling the truth? Was this where my inner compass has been pointing all the while? Not north, south, east, or west, but to drown and not drown in this vast red sea? Something sparked in me! My inner compass started to wiggle faster and faster! And suddenly it became clear. Suddenly it all made sense. Yes, what else could it have been? How could I have stayed so blind all this time? And I realized that without the Light, it would have been impossible for any captain to know.

     So I sunk my ship. As I continued puncturing the bottom of my ship, the red ocean started seeping into my boat. I saw the most marvellous thing: the red ocean started taking away those disgusting filth which filled my ship. Slowly but surely, the dirt disappeared. I punctured and punctured my ship named Life, and the red ocean rose to my knees. What feeling is this? I was taken by surprise, but it felt good.

The queer captain smiled and laughed with the most genuine laughter. Queer laughter, definitely, but more and more his queerness seemed the most perfectly sensible thing in the world. He explained that as the red ocean covered me, I will start to feel more and more of the strong current of the ocean. He had a queer name for the current (for as he would continue explaining excitedly throughout our drowning and not drowning lives, it was the core thing which the Light showed him). He called the strong current the Love of God.

     The minute I heard him say this, the current grew so strong that I was swept under it. I found myself drowning and not drowning. I was drowning in this ocean called the Blood of Christ, and I am being swept under by the strong current called the Love of God. Yet I was not drowning. On the contrary, I found it to be the very thing I needed. The very thing my inner compass had been shouting all along.

     I was shook to my soul, and my inner compass rested peacefully.