Barbara Werchota

Candles and Oils

I couldn’t choose between the thirst, the unbearable thirst and the most wondrous, beautiful mesmerising odours which had captured me and drifted me into this oblivious realm.

Now that I have had time to think, I do recall remembering the odours first…… and I knew. You don’t get something as beautiful as that without paying in some way. I tried to search in every hidden corner of my being. Because I was searching, I could not find what it was that I was looking for, although it cried out blatantly to me. I was aware of being unable to see at all. Only the sensation of smell was predominant. It could have been like walking in a world I’d met, but could not remember…. Where and how. It must have been the drowning effect of these odours of days gone by which strapped me down, weighed me down and made it impossible for me to even try to understand.

My life had, since almost a year, been enveloped in essential oils and honey candles. So I knew what the odours were. But in the trance I’d been I would have had to think about that. Thinking had now been lost to me. I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings, drowning in these odours of charms.

“Her eyes have opened” this was one of my friends standing in the room. I had believed that my eyes had constantly been open, since I was aware of everything. This statement made me only too aware of the folly of the state of my mind. Now it dawned on me that, yes, I had just opened my eyes. To my amazement, I saw my bedroom, with the two beds, the wardrobe next to my bed with all my lapis lazuli jewellery hanging on nails on the side. All very familiar. But this room had somehow been drastically changed. I ventured another peep, since I was unable to pinpoint the difference, although it really was gigantic.
“Did you see, she opened her eyes again…. After so many days !”
This statement frightened me so much, I almost kept my eyes open. Had I had the force to do so, I would not be where I am today. But my eyes chose to close and remain closed. I still did not fully realise that my eyes were closed, because I could vaguely feel the room and occupants, but now that I had been made aware of it…. Yes, my eyes were closed, and very much so. What I spied when I blinked them open for that short while was astounding.

I could understand now, or was beginning to understand the warmth, understand the magic odours I was drowning in. My room was nothing but dancing lights. Lights coloured the colour of lights, tinged in blues and oranges, flowing into yellows and tapering away in blues, engulfed in aquamarines to the deep zones of lapis lazuli. And that is where I lingered, in the zone of lapis lazuli.
Perception and hearing had not been lost to me. Only the ability to remain vigilant through open eyes. This vigilance transformed into feelings and moving and merging with everything and everyone in this room.
The Understanding of this awoke my appreciation. I was able to see without looking through my eyes. What I saw, made me understand.
I was conscious in my unconscious state.

Dancing candle lights, in many more colours than the rainbow we know had become my companions, odours of secrets long lost did not fail to mesmerise me and heightened my thirst. I cried out for water to quench this thirst. My cries went unheeded.
“Look at her! Does it not appear as though she is trying to say something” I would hear even my children say, as they kept vigil.
“But no sound issues forth from her lips - only that wrinkle upon her brow and the impression that she is trying to say something – I wish she would talk” the youngest of my 5 children would plead.

But no, no sound came forth. I heard myself saying :
“Please do not ignore my plight, I am thirsty. Only you can save me, please give me water, I need water to quench my thirst”.
Only, had I known then, that it was more than water that I needed to quench this thirst of mine. This thirsts that I blamed the dehydrating effect of my oils on, this thirst which said: “search and find for yourself what you need, and mind, it will not only be water. Water will not help you this time.” Had I only known !

I always saw their father, feeding the flames of these candles, and making sure that the supply of essential oils would not run out. A few drops, in fact just one drop is enough.
The father of my children, who had professed not to know much about essential oils, did in the essence of his being realise the physical effect these oils caused.
An abominable thirst, a physical thirst that could have been quenched by simple water was denied me. I laboured on, could not swallow, could not breath to supply my body with the needed energy.

My inner perception took note of all this. I had now even unleashed energies once beyond my control. I read into his will. I saw his distaste for my essential oils and candles.
“Then let her have them.all of them, the oils, as much as I can lay my hands on, let her have them”
“Let her have the candles, let the warmth of these candles bear her down, change all her feelings into lethargy – let the candles spread their heat to her heat and thereby vanquish and quench her heat.”

He never stopped refilling the essential oil burners, the oils, ever so sweet, so powerful, overcame me, dried out my membranes. I was now unable to swallow. What a hideous way to take my departure from this world, ever so familiar, and now so strange in my farewell. The heat and beauty of these magnificent candles, burning into the aquamarine lapis lazuli gestured to me.
And I followed. I followed in the agony of suffocating to death. What a terrible torturous death, being suffocated by the obsessions of my will.
“Should we not move her out of this room?” Again the pained cry of my children.
“Why! No, let her be with her oils and candles” the father looked pleased.
“Can you not see that she is dying”
“She is crying out in thirst” again my children.
“How is that? She cannot talk – How do you know she is crying out in thirst?”
“Are you not thirsty ? Do you not see the litres of water you drink in this room whenever you are in here. Remove the oils, remove the oil burners, remove the candles” “Give her a chance to live”.
By now I have passed the stage of being thirsty for water. I no longer cared. I felt no thirst for water. I could not even remember what water had tasted like. Did water have a taste? Or was it tasteless. I had now entered the stage where my thirst was my quest. My thirst was no longer able to be quenched by mere water. But I wondered as I saw myself dying, as my children cried out in anguish, as their father acknowledged: “Yes, her obsession was too strong for her! – She should have known it would ultimately destroy her”
My thirst beckoned to me. “Abide by me, you shall be the master of your quest, but as in all quests, never forget, never make the same mistake again, you and only you should remain the master of your quest. And so I walked the pastures fresh, side by side with my thirst, and every obstacle that came my way, I mastered, I have to this day not forgotten to remain the master of my quest, not even in death.


All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Barbara Werchota.
Published on on 29.04.2004.


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