Forty-Seven

The sky was a sea, and there were fish flying above me. And a golden liquid thread was drawing bees into the air. I could feel the wind on my skin, sometimes warm, sometimes cool, gently pulsating. And I heard the Siberian man say: “People can be so unconscious, so diffused and diluted, they expand without awareness… So, instead of unfolding, they diminish and instead of becoming one with all, they eventually crumble and disintegrate into nothingness. It’s not the way. Hold your awareness tightly around your body, keep your consciousness close to your skin for now, just feel it. Do not let yourself spread further than what your awareness can hold together.”

I could feel the wind around me, then I started to see it, as well: it was like a second skin woven from the same golden thread the bees were made of.

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