Heavenly Creatures

After that, I began to speak up more during our games. I hadn’t realized how isolated I had felt before then, and I almost couldn’t help but talk the old man’s ear off.

I wasn’t used to sharing so much about myself, but with the old man, it was easy. I told him thoughts and feelings I had never told anyone else. The old man simply smiled, nodded, and said, “I see.”

I told him of my dream, where the woman and man seemed to share my parents’ eyes.

He said, “I see.”

I told him of my feelings of guilt following the accident, and how I struggled to open up to my adoptive parents.

He said, “I see.”

I told him of my frequent flashbacks while praying, where I was often on a battlefield. I told him of a feeling of deep tiredness that cut to the bone. I told him of my feelings of despair and grief, which had emerged from my subconscious to bother me ever since I’d met Sun.

He said, “I see.”

I began to understand the Catholic concept of confession. Although I was not speaking through a screen, the old man was so consistent in his reactions that I began to see him as an immense rock, a force of nature immovable in principle. I lost track of the time, and almost didn’t notice how much better I was doing at the game.

The old man also told me things, stories and truths that seemed to leave echoes in my heart.

“Look at any general in history,” he said. “They held only a fraction of the vision of heaven, so they lived and died, just like any other human being. One day, in the fullness of time, humanity will forget them. Those who seek fame, money, or power, who do not work for the good of all, are still children convinced of the reality of this game called life.”

And: “There is no need to change the world. Discover the essence of yourself, and all the world becomes right in your eyes.”

And, my favorite: “As long as truth is your light, you cannot be led astray.”

Eventually, the old man removed one stone, then another, then another, until we played on an empty board. I still played black and he still played white, but there came a sense of stability, equality, and mutual respect. A feeling of calm and happiness also grew within me.

One day, while sitting on the wooden platform, which I had learned was called jungja in Korean, I had a revelation. I was in one of my moods, which came often in those days, of being at the farthest reaches of my personhood. It was like floating on a cloud, or in the air, overlooking the galaxies. My whole body, from head to foot, seemed to hum with an insight that was so far in my subconscious that I barely registered what it was. And then, I seemed to suddenly see the world with new eyes, not from my personhood, but from something Else.

The moment was brief, but it lit a fire inside me. Like the explosion of a star, it filled me with light. I suddenly understood that the Holy Grail, the cup of immortality that Arthur and Lancelot had searched for, was a metaphor for the inner realization of truth. Ambition could never lead to immortality. Only the surrender of absolutely everything—even the idea of oneself—could lead to this truth.

“Ah,” the old man said, placing his hands gently on his knees. “You’ve won.”