whirls and twirls and thrills of magical colors of green, moss, tree, life, morphing shapes, in the glowing redwood bark, in the sunlit shiny strands of golden hair, in the shining dirt everywhere under my feet, on the smooth carved wooden fence I caressed, whispering under my majestic, shining, immensely detailed hand, along with its marked scars, almost wooden also, the glowing black dots upon my fields of olive skin... a sparkling stream running to the left, not just flowing... but skipping, chipping, glowing upon the sun, basking in the same sun power that we had found in the forest trails, that she sought when she was a forest elf, glowing magic and color, standing amongst the rest of Life as its guardian and child. All trees invited me to watch, all branches waved to each other and to the sky, and the world was mine to dance and sing and laugh and seek and take and give and love and live and embrace and meld with... stairs were a path to dance as my feet took me down almost of their own accord... and those golden strands of the smoothest, most delicious hair between my fingers, they wouldn't stay even when I joyously found its ankle and shoe, the tibia inside glowing red inside my mind, and I held it, but she wouldn't stay. and that stream sparkled with such joy and soltiduminosity.
and the people around me, they passed me on the path as I sat, and watched the streams of rainbows flow deeper into my self, and around each other, paths always being made and unmade, and yet all there, and as I followed them, I found they led to a wall-surrounded castle I saw from above, with a simple maze inside, and a chest with inner secrets stored, at what seemed like the end of the stream that I followed. and as I kept looking inside, I found a being, with an overlooking dark red, circular face at the top center of the sphere of my reality, purple morphing tentacles as its tools, it seemed to be creating and keeping my inner world. and I wondered what or who that being was, and I saw that my thoughts of questioning and analyzing, surprisingly clear, were being produced by a tiny bump of something, of consciousness perhaps? relative to the being of creation it seemed like a small motionless mole, and the being picked it up like it would a tiny, helpless bean, and I felt the bean, which I'm now calling ego, feel afraid. afraid that it was not in control, afraid that this being could change him, or unmake him however it willed, at any time. And I realized the meaninglessness of holding on to the puny power of the ego, and I asked the being to rip it, myself, my thoughts, my "control", to rip it all to shreds if it so willed, because I knew it was obstaculizing my perception and the expression of my real self.
and people would pass by and ask "are you ok?", and these deeper images and feelings would fade out as my self consciousness awoke, and my brain would retrieve the words for "I'm fine, thank you", and summoned the muscle power to breathe them out loud. The intensity of colors and of it all was washed out by the memories and restrictions of social protocol, and I felt a little robbed of my precious moments of intensity. I understood them, though, and tried to include them by asking "how are you?", but none of them replied back. and then I saw the redwoods, and they again lit up with their life-colored, copper red bark, and the branches waved to make the sparkling green leaves shimmer before my eyes and everyone else who could see it.
I followed her will all throughout, by not talking out loud in marveled excitement and laughter when she said "shhh, don't let them know". "Oooh, so we're in a secret mission, are we? don't let them know what a magical world we're surrounded by, and that lives within us, at every single moment of life? why, because they won't accept it?", I sarcasmed back, but I don't think she heeded me, or even wanted to... she too was taking it all in, and I understood that when I saw the images and feelings all shoot through me, and realized words feel far, far short of describing anything in the intense world, and even though we were both on high hills above flat, "solid" "reality", our hills were distinct, and merging them was something that only I, not her, would've wanted to do.
"let's go find the car"
"we'll find everything we need there - food, water, warmth, and we will get away from all these people"
"be calm, there is always a way to pass. we can just wait behind them as they finish, or we can walk just beside them. come"
"where did we leave the car?"
"the key is leading the way"
"let's go climb that hill"
.........
(Update, Aug 16th):
And we rock-climbed up the grey jags of rock beside the road, going nowhere but enjoying the sharp, hot feeling of sunlit rocks holding our leaning bodies, and smelling, tasting the very rocks was a fascinating delight.
"What are you doing?", as I climbed on top of her, mine a goofy face, and we curiously glanced at each other, cramped in the passenger's seat.
And then we sat by the grassy edge of the road, looking out onto a magical, fluctuating mantle of green underneath, shimmering blue blanket overhead, man-made and self-grown constructions all together, everything cradled by the pourer of delicious heat on our skin, the pure and lovely sun above.
and the people around me, they passed me on the path as I sat, and watched the streams of rainbows flow deeper into my self, and around each other, paths always being made and unmade, and yet all there, and as I followed them, I found they led to a wall-surrounded castle I saw from above, with a simple maze inside, and a chest with inner secrets stored, at what seemed like the end of the stream that I followed. and as I kept looking inside, I found a being, with an overlooking dark red, circular face at the top center of the sphere of my reality, purple morphing tentacles as its tools, it seemed to be creating and keeping my inner world. and I wondered what or who that being was, and I saw that my thoughts of questioning and analyzing, surprisingly clear, were being produced by a tiny bump of something, of consciousness perhaps? relative to the being of creation it seemed like a small motionless mole, and the being picked it up like it would a tiny, helpless bean, and I felt the bean, which I'm now calling ego, feel afraid. afraid that it was not in control, afraid that this being could change him, or unmake him however it willed, at any time. And I realized the meaninglessness of holding on to the puny power of the ego, and I asked the being to rip it, myself, my thoughts, my "control", to rip it all to shreds if it so willed, because I knew it was obstaculizing my perception and the expression of my real self.
and people would pass by and ask "are you ok?", and these deeper images and feelings would fade out as my self consciousness awoke, and my brain would retrieve the words for "I'm fine, thank you", and summoned the muscle power to breathe them out loud. The intensity of colors and of it all was washed out by the memories and restrictions of social protocol, and I felt a little robbed of my precious moments of intensity. I understood them, though, and tried to include them by asking "how are you?", but none of them replied back. and then I saw the redwoods, and they again lit up with their life-colored, copper red bark, and the branches waved to make the sparkling green leaves shimmer before my eyes and everyone else who could see it.
I followed her will all throughout, by not talking out loud in marveled excitement and laughter when she said "shhh, don't let them know". "Oooh, so we're in a secret mission, are we? don't let them know what a magical world we're surrounded by, and that lives within us, at every single moment of life? why, because they won't accept it?", I sarcasmed back, but I don't think she heeded me, or even wanted to... she too was taking it all in, and I understood that when I saw the images and feelings all shoot through me, and realized words feel far, far short of describing anything in the intense world, and even though we were both on high hills above flat, "solid" "reality", our hills were distinct, and merging them was something that only I, not her, would've wanted to do.
"let's go find the car"
"we'll find everything we need there - food, water, warmth, and we will get away from all these people"
"be calm, there is always a way to pass. we can just wait behind them as they finish, or we can walk just beside them. come"
"where did we leave the car?"
"the key is leading the way"
"let's go climb that hill"
.........
(Update, Aug 16th):
And we rock-climbed up the grey jags of rock beside the road, going nowhere but enjoying the sharp, hot feeling of sunlit rocks holding our leaning bodies, and smelling, tasting the very rocks was a fascinating delight.
"What are you doing?", as I climbed on top of her, mine a goofy face, and we curiously glanced at each other, cramped in the passenger's seat.
And then we sat by the grassy edge of the road, looking out onto a magical, fluctuating mantle of green underneath, shimmering blue blanket overhead, man-made and self-grown constructions all together, everything cradled by the pourer of delicious heat on our skin, the pure and lovely sun above.
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