I was by the frozen lake with the Siberian man. We were just standing there, staring into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, he seemed familiar. At that instant, I flashed back to the Asian man in my childhood – had they known about him, adults would have called him an “imaginary friend”. At the time, I thought he might be Chinese or Inuit. He taught me lots of things, helped me through a lot.
“Is it really you?” – I asked the Siberian man.
He bent his head down slightly and didn’t reply.
Out of a sudden, he was different, he lost his human form, and became a dark light playing in complex, fascinating colours, like the aurora borealis. It felt as if I was perceiving him with a different organ. It was the same kind of perception as when I saw myself from the outside, or when I looked with the eye in my navel…
I got scared. Our safe, inner place became an opening of some kind, to something else, maybe a crossroad between the worlds. The abruptness of this change frightened me. I felt vulnerable.
“Are you… real?” – I asked.
“What do you mean “real”?”
“Do you exist only within, or are you… who are you?”
He didn’t reply. He changed back to his human form. But I was still scared, breathing rapidly.
“It’s okay, everything’s okay. slow down your breathing, slow, slow, slow”
We waited until I felt calm again.
“Where have you been all this time, where did you disappear?” – I asked. I couldn’t remember how I lost my “imaginary friend”…
“I was here, with you, the whole time.”
“Why?” – Why would he do that? Stick around?
“None of us are on our own, little bee, you know that. We are all connected” – he said, stroking my face.
“Yes… yes, I know.”