At the seaside, I saw a horse turning around and around. Another one joined in and started to rotate the opposite way around the first one. Then came another and another, each girdled the previous one, always contrariwise. They all turned golden, then more and more translucent until only their outlines remained. In the end, there were only golden threads left, each coiling around the other.

And in the centre, there was the ever-changing woman. She was watching me. I went to her and we held hands. We were one.

Then I noticed a boy and a girl. They were running in a field of wheat, playing tag in the sunset, laughing.

There came a group of riders. They lifted the kids onto their horses and off they galloped enjoying the speed. All turned golden: wheat and men… In the distance, I saw women dancing, holding white sheets. Suddenly, I was one of them. We started to build a yurt, we would stay here for the night.

The field was on a plateau. Down below was a beautiful lake, in all the colours of the setting sun. Right next to our tent was a huge tree, and the men started to climb higher and higher. I joined them.

In our ascent, we were surrounded by an ever-changing play of colour. And then, we were not climbing anymore but flying in a pulsating tunnel of air. When we stopped, there was nothing but beautiful, iridescent fog… drops of sunset gathered by wet cobwebs.

Slowly, I could make out the shape of a man. He was standing by water – sea or lake, I couldn’t tell. I recognised the Siberian man. He was waiting for me.



I was at the entrance of a cave. There were some golden dancers moving in a strange, fragmented way, I wondered whether they were real people or puppets. I entered. In the centre, there was an opening at the top, and I could feel a waterfall, but all I could see was a myriad of droplets floating around, dancing in the sunlight. I went to the middle, surrounded by golden drops, it was beautiful, serene. From the corner of my eyes, I spotted other dancers, some like dervishes, others like Native Americans, all moving in this strange, fragmented way. I looked upwards and realized that the droplets were golden bees, and noticed a figure like the High Priestess in the Rider-Waite Tarot deck at the side, she smiled. I was turning into a bee. When I was done, I flew upwards, and observed everything from above. It was not a waterfall, but two seas meeting, and as they clashed, instead of flooding the cave, they turned into droplets, into golden bees. I perceived so many things at the same time, it was hard to be aware of all of them.

At one point, it got dark, and I stopped. The sea was black, too, and there was a huge wave coming. I was frightened. The High Priestess came and lead me into the cave. She held my hand as we were waiting for it to reach us. I saw dead bodies,  so many of them… some were mutilated… The High Priestess was behind me now, gripping my arms, I could feel her head against my back.

– “Why do I have to witness all this?” – I asked her.
– “There are thousands of pasts, and thousands of futures. They all have to meet at one point, in one single present, even if only for a moment, to become conscious. My bees are all such junctures, such meeting points… I’m sorry, my little bee, I am so sorry that it hurts.”
– “But what is consciousness? And why does it matter?”

The black wave fell apart into golden drops, floating around us. The High Priestess turned to face me, then she looked to the side and the Siberian man came to join us. We formed a circle, holding hands. First, it was all black, but then came some light filtering through… I was in a dark, red place. I could hear some fluid pumping, I could feel warmth, some of the things around were soft, others were hard… I was inside a body.

Then, I saw something, very dimly: it looked like the pores of the skin, and some hair… I recognized my own temple from a small scar I have there. Then my eyelashes, my closed eyes, me lying on the sofa. It was all quite blurred. “It will get clearer in time” – the High Priestess said. I looked around the room, it was the same and yet not the same… It was how I would see it without glasses and in near darkness, maybe by moonlight. I saw the sofa, my desk, my computer, my chair… I noticed something moving. It was two people. They were the Siberian man and the High Priestess. They were in the room the same way as I was,  utterly real. I was so surprized that I opened my eyes and sat up to check… “what is this?… is this consciousness?”


I was in the forest again, by the yew tree, and wondered if I could meet Jupiter. There came the golden bee and told me to clench my hand around her. We started to fly upwards, spiralling around the tree; higher and higher, until we felt surrounded by water, as if diving. But it was calm only for a minute, then we started to whirl, and we were rocking more and more fiercely… suddenly, we found ourselves in a large boat or ship. The old woman was sitting there, waiting for us. Surrounded by a raging sea, a swirling, furious darkness, we could feel nothing but a fresh breeze on our face. We were moving ahead gently and steadily in the stormy waters, untouched. “where is Jupiter?” I asked her.  – “You’re on his ship”, she smiled, “makes a difference, hm?”, she beckoned towards the gale.

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