I sat down by the curb (it was a street at night, without any public lights) and waited. The Sun came to see me. His head was a glowing orb, and his face had the expression of a child ready to do mischief. His hands were huge, as if they belonged to a big plush figure. They reminded me of Little Red Riding Hood,
‘But, grandmother, what large hands you have!’
‘All the better to hug you with.’
‘No, thank you’
‘okay’ said the Sun, shrugged and sat next to me onto the curb.
‘I’m not in a good mood’.
‘you’re telling me? I’m about to be eclipsed’ – he laughed.
True, I thought, there’s going to be an eclipse soon.
He sat next to me onto the curb, and started to blow golden bubbles that followed each other in a row, like a floating ribbon, high up above us, and I realized they were actually Hebrew letters.
‘I don’t read Hebrew’ – I told him.
‘oh, don’t you?’ – he did not a damn.
I was staring at the letters, moving, glowing in the night, and I remembered how, as a child, I used to blur my vision and let patterns emerge from everything, the stains on the wall, the drops of water on the table… if I stared long enough, there was always a form emerging, and it came to life…
As I started to look at the golden letters this way, they assembled into the kabbalistic Tree of Life. My interest in the Kabbalah was a long time ago and short-lived, because I didn’t like how hierarchical the system was, it seemed too square, too rigid. This tree of life, however, was not some dead structure at all, it seemed very much alive.
‘I am not doing the work of the Kabbalah’ – I said.
‘oh, don’t you?’- he shrugged, didn’t seem to care.
He lifted me up, and as he touched me, I became small in his hand. He blew me into one of the ten spheres as if I was a soap bubble. ‘That’s where you are right now’. It was the second from the top, first on the left.
It was foggy inside, I could sense presence, but couldn’t actually see anything except a tiny golden bee flying round and round on an elliptical orbit. Then a woman approached through a corridor, dressed in beautifully ornamented, but heavy materials. Her face was hidden, and she was quite tall. I wondered if she was the Bride the Kabbalah mentioned, but I was not sure because she seemed more of a matriarch than a young woman.
I started to wonder which of the spheres I was in, I vaguely recalled each had its own name and symbolism, but I could not remember them at all.
‘You’re wondering where you are’ – the woman said, ‘don’t worry, you can find out all about it when we’re done’.
I told her I was not interested in the Kabbalah. She shrugged. It didn’t matter.
‘So, what are you interested in?’
I told her that I have come to a point when I actually can’t see the point in anything at all. She stepped closer, lifted my hands (that’s when I realized they were resting on my abdomen) and asked ‘Oh, really, and how’s the belly?’. I blushed. She let my hands go, and said ‘I’m sure you want to look around, I’ll leave you to it, see you later’. And walked away.
And there I was, standing in the fog, watching the tiny golden bee drawing its ellipses…