Upon commencing the walk, I felt anxious. The burning pain in my foot troubled me more than I cared to admit. Moreover, I was in a foul mood induced by pain and grief.

As you might have noted yourself, when one directs all of their attention to unfortunate events, it is a challenge to see the other side, to see the light of beauty through all the pain.

"Mommy! Mommy! Can I go on the swing for a bit?" A loud voice of a little girl pierced my musings like a sword.

"Of course, but be careful not to swing too high. Remember what happened last time?" The mother told the little girl with a ponytail, firmly.

"Mommy, it's not fun if I don't swing high. If I fall you can always kiss it and make it better." The girl said with a huge smile enveloping her whole face.

"Alright, Angela, go ahead," the mother said.

As I looked at the mother, I noticed that the worried expression never dropped from her face. Yet, it was clear that she did not wish to spoil Angela's fun.

Soon enough, I understood the reasoning behind her actions, as a carefree giggle escaped the girl's mouth. It was uplifting, to say the least.

There is something, some hidden magic, in children's laughter that is so much more than we, as adults, can even begin to understand. It is liberating.

As a smile graced the mother's lips, I could see she felt it too. She felt the delight of simply being alive that radiated from her little girl. The same one that adults rarely experienced.

Moving past them, I proceeded to the farthest corner of the park, searching for the most tranquil spot to ponder.

I needed to understand the revelation that my ears found in the joy of that child's laughter and how I could implement that feeling, that notion, into my own life.

I recollected having had a discussion with my darling wife on this very topic. All this time, I failed to comprehend what that wise woman was telling me, the wisdom she was imparting on me.

"William, my dear, you can't go on like this. It's not healthy. You can't spend all your time looking for future fame. You have to live in the present," she used to say.

Well, she didn't use to say it exactly like that, but I was informed that Old English is 'not modern' and thus I am translating for you, modern readers.

Anyway, determined as I was to be more than a man, more than a bard, I failed to see what she meant. For she gave me the most precious advice of them all, to live in the moment, to enjoy small beauties of life.

As I lowered myself on the nearby bench, I commenced following my wife's advice for the first time in my long life. I became present at the moment, and it was invigorating.

I could feel the wind gently caressing my skin, whispering sweet words that I was not aware I needed to hear. Its gentle touch, like a brush of fingertips, was comforting on my cheeks as tears slid down them.

I cannot recall the last time I allowed tears to wash away the sorrow from my soul. They were not granted permission to be released even when we buried my son, my precious boy since I felt it was the type of pain I had to carry with me for eternity, I was mistaken.

I was finally able to understand that tears are a necessary part of the life and death cycle. Thus, I did not wipe them away.

I allowed the wind to carry my tears into the nothingness from which we all came to be. I allowed the sun to dry them with its life-giving warmth, and I felt so much better for it.

The unshed tears were a burden I was not aware I needed to release. However, in that one moment, I let it all out, in one big tempest. I cried for my muse, for my son, for the family I left behind.

Instead of hurting more, I found tears transformative, cleansing. They were healing my wounds instead of further agitating them.

When my eyes were finally void of any moisture and my sight clear, I could see how truly magical the park was.

I was sitting under a huge tree, that swayed gently in the breeze, with its leaves rustling happily, directed by my friend, the wind. I could see the sunbeams passing through the small openings between the leaves, blessing me with their light. The experience in itself was the most divine thing I had ever felt.

In that one, perfect moment, I could smell the soft fragrance of the nearby flowers, while simultaneously admiring their color and texture.

I was not only enjoying the present, but I was also an intricate part of it all. Finally, I felt connected with the world around me, we were one.

It occurred to me then that the same could be said for my writing. I could use the incomprehensible powers of my pen to connect people. It was in my power to become the creator of the complex structure that was life. I could give better lives to people around me, the ones who truly deserved them.

Yes, people have to suffer at times, because pain is the greatest educator of them all. It helps us see how strong we truly are and how many impossible obstacles we can overcome.

However, it would be in my power to ensure happy endings for them, after all the struggle and pain. Would not that be astonishing? Perhaps that was my purpose in the world, to recreate reality and make it better for the worthy ones.

My dilemma was the same one as that of my most famous character, Hamlet. I could finally feel that famous line as my own: "To be or not to be, that is the question."

The answer was simple, 'to be', to become the maker of people's lives, the creator of their destinies.

It was a lot of power to bestow upon any one person. However, who better to wield it then one such as myself who has been through so much and came out victorious. The one who had done the impossible by traversing through time and space with the same ease with which someone goes to buy milk.

As you might imagine, my arrogance did not allow me to turn my back on such an amazing opportunity I could not refuse such power because deep down we all want to be powerful, to rule the world.

Of course, things did not become any easier for me, as nothing developed the way I anticipated.

Do things ever turn the way we want them to, the way we NEED them to?