Forty-Nine

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.

Forty-Two

I was walking in a riverbed and I did not get wet because the water divided around my body. My arms were open wide, I could touch the soft, liquid light with my fingertips. There was also something on my back, the sensation reminded me of arms or legs made of gauze or thin paper… I wondered how they looked, maybe I had insect-like wings… Whatever they were, they felt new and fragile. I wondered what would happen if they got wet. But they didn’t.

Then it was late afternoon, almost evening. I was in a forest. A soft light walked among the long shadows of trees. And there was a cascade. The water in its fall became a male body until it splashed and merged with the river below. Again. And again. The third time, however, he did not plunge into the stream: he started to run. He ran and ran through the forest, and the river followed with such force that it broke some trees and uprooted others. All was under water.

By the time he was gone, it was getting dark. Right in front of me, I could see a whirling, pulsating darkness: a hole where a tree used to be. The Siberian man stepped to me, took my hand and, minding his steps at the edge of dark, infinite vortexes, he was leading the way. We were heading towards an enormous tree that resembled a woman.

Seven

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.

Six

I was in an old forest, it was late afternoon or evening, and a group of children was running around, laughing, chasing each other. Then it started to snow… I was surpized, because it felt like summer, warm and green… but then I realized that what surrounded us was not snow but seeds from a cottonwood tree. There was hardly any wind, we were enveloped in small, luminous feathers, playing in the colours of the setting sun. The world was in slow motion, as if we were all floating. I looked around, observing all the details, the lights, the colours, and I noticed that there was a river close by, and a boat on the bank. There was an old couple sitting by the boat. I remembered the woman from previous meditations. I didn’t recognize the man, but I could tell from the way they looked at each other that they were intimate.

Then I saw the great yew tree… I was mesmerized and went closer. It had a cavity at its foot, and there seemed to be some light within, red, like fire, but I didn’t want to go down there. I stared upwards instead, and pondered whether I could climb up. I suddenly remembered an old dream with my “home”. In my dreams, I am usually either in an unknown place, or somebody else’s house, but in this one I was in my own home:  a tree house with colourful, translucent veils instead of walls, high up on a big, old tree, in the middle of an ancient woods…

Three

I was in the forest. I recognized it from a series of dreams I had some ten years ago.  They were powerful and scary dreams, but I only remember the last one in detail: I was facing an army of the dead, and in the end, I buried them all with water, fire, soil and Sun.

This time, though, I was just there, not sure what I was, man, bug or stone,  lying in the grass. I saw a huge yew tree, but I was not sure whether to visit… so I just stayed there, in the grass, the wind gently blowing, and the days passing fast, evening, night, dawn, morning, afternoon, evening, dusk, night, and so on, a day in a few seconds, I don’t know how many weeks. Then I was in a field, it was the field where my mother took me a few times to harvest cucumbers, from morning till evening, hard work. But now it was just me there,  nobody else, there were no cucumbers, either, the clouds sweeping fast in the sky, and I could smell the soil. Then I was in another field, where we harvested corn when I was a kid, and I remember playing hide and seek with my cousin in a haystack when the adults were not watching. This field was empty, too, it was just me, the grass, the sky and the smell of hay… Then I was in yet another field, this one in France, where we once stopped with my husband to have a picnic and stayed for quite a while, just enjoying nature… now I was alone here,  too, surrounded by  wild flowers, feeling the Sun on my skin and enjoying the smell of wet grass…

Then I was in yet another field, one that I did not recognize. And, lying in the grass, I noticed a young woman stretched out not far from me. I saw her from the corner of my eyes, her skin was very pale, her hair long and reddish, and she did not move. “Is she one of the dead?” I wondered, and started to feel uneasy. I could not turn my head to see her properly. “Don’t worry” the bee said. I didn’t realize she was with me, until now. I wanted to perceive more of the woman, but she did not seem to move. I tried whether I could smell anything, and there was some bittersweet smell, I could not tell what it was… the bitter part reminded me of moss, I did not recognize the sweetness, though… I wondered whether it was some flower nearby, but I could not look around. And that’s when I realized that I could not move at all. I felt puzzled, but not scared.  “it’s okay” the bee said, and I opened my eyes.

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