Though she didn’t see it, Jill’s face was expressionless. She’d spent 15 years searching for the fountain of youth inside chemical-filled jars. When she’d exhausted their possibilities, she’d turned to needles and scalpels. She was careful never to laugh or squint for fear of creating creases.
Jill’s friends were equally careful. Pressed garments and manicured hands, nothing ever out of place. Safety existed only within these confines.
Dissatisfied with the results of her latest procedure, Jill traveled to Tibet. Convinced after reading a magazine that the fountain of youth could be found there. She boarded a flight and swallowed a pain-killer.
“Tibet?!” Her friends laughed (though only inwardly) at her foolishness.
It was on foreign land that Jill, quite accidently, crossed paths with a Buddhist monk. Impulsively, impulse a rare quality in Jill, she asked if he knew the way to the fountain of youth. The monk laughed wildly and squinted. Jill took this as a fearless yes!
She followed the monk for days, stopping only to rest on dirt floors after sundown. Jill’s hair and clothes frayed. Her skin became dusty. She ate meager portions of soggy grains. Her legs hardened and her face softened. Her muscles ached. Yet she remained confident that the monk knew the way, and continued.
Thirty days later, they arrived at a monastery. Jill was offered a warm meal, a bath and a bed. The following morning, she sat on a patch of grass awaiting sunrise. Seeing her from across the garden, the monk walked and sat beside her. Rays of sunlight spread across the sky, and Jill began to weep. It was soft at first, then violent, as if she were erupting. The monk sat beside her in silent meditation.
When the sun was a giant fiery ball blazing high in the sky, Jill began to laugh. It was soft at first, then wild, ferocious even, as if she were erupting. The monk joined her then and their laughter echoed across the fields.
Jill spent the following month tending to plants, sweeping floors, washing dishes, and laughing. She then returned home to sell her belongings and attend a fundraiser.
She wore a simple cotton dress. Her skin was tanned from hours spent out in the sun. She ate and drank what she wanted, laughed often, and savored the freedom that she’d always had (though she’d never known) to redirect her course.
A strange silence filled the room after Jill left the fundraiser, and everyone in attendance was certain that Jill had, in fact, somehow discovered the fountain of youth. Though at the risk of sounding ridiculous or creating face-creases, no one dared verbalize such foolishness.
