NeuroDivine

My life feels like a river flowing through many lands, and at each bend I met someone who carried the essence of an element.

It all began with a little challenge I once posted: “I used to delete people who I didn’t interact with but then I became more selective of the folks I accepted as friends. Here’s a test. If you’re reading this, lie about how we met. Then put this on your wall so I can leave one, but then again no-one seems to follow directions! The biggest fattest lie you can come up with.” What started as a playful dare became a doorway into stories—half-truths, half-fictions—that stitched themselves into my memory.

Jamie was fire. I met him at Hogwarts, his wand tucked behind his ear, his laughter sparking like flame. He taught me that magic was mostly about confidence, and his warmth lit the path ahead.

Simon was earth. On Folson Street, he sketched murals into brick walls, grounding the city in colour and form. He showed me that every passerby leaves a mark, and that the world itself is a canvas waiting for our steps.

Melanie was air. At the Star Trek convention, dressed in her Starfleet uniform, she spoke with conviction that imagination could soar beyond galaxies. Her words lifted me, reminding me that ideas travel faster than light.

Christopher was water. In Dar es Salaam, we sat side by side in classrooms where chalk dust mingled with ocean breeze. His companionship flowed steady and clear, teaching me that learning is less about lessons and more about presence.

Bernie was rhythm. At the Féis, when my pumps wore thin, she offered hers without hesitation. Together we moved to the music, our steps echoing generosity, proving that kindness is the pulse that keeps all elements in harmony.

And so the “biggest fattest lie” became something truer than truth: a mythic journey where fire, earth, air, water, and rhythm walked beside me, each friend an element, each meeting a lantern.