I was sitting in a room, quietly chanting a mantra. Having never used this mantra before, I was occasionally stumbling over the sounds. They were unfamiliar and didn't flow quite right, but it is this stumbling, this tripping on unfamiliar terrain that I attribute the eventual experience to.
I shut my eyes, and I let the mixed-up, lost chant carry me through on its journey. Along the way, my body felt things. My eyes saw things. My muscles ached. The scents of the worlds I fell into were vivid and alive.
First, I spied a mountain. The top of this mountain was my goal, I knew that already. I set off in the correct direction, trudging through mud and ducking under branches. I followed no path, but kept the mountain in my vision.
My foot caught a rock, and I landed face-first in the mud.
I lay still for a moment. There was a rock just under my eye, pushing into it. My shoulder was on an exposed root. I knew my knee was skinned and bleeding.
I put my hands under me, and went back to my knees.
In front of me the mountain still stood, but a line had formed across its center. I stood, and began to walk toward it again. I passed a rose garden, and turned to my right to see the sun glint off the dew on their buds. The smell of freshly opened roses hit me hard, and I smiled.
I knew I should not dally, though, and I turned to the mountain.
Its eye opened.
The line that had formed across it was the bottom of a giant lid, and now its eye stared down at me, angrily. Its fire bruned into my body, and I stood, staring back at it.
I took another step closer, and the eye squinted more, accusing me of some sin I could not place.
I began to walk forward, my eyes fixed on the anger of this mountain-god. I ignored the world around me, focusing only on this mountain, and my eventual conquer of it.
It was then I noticed that each step toward the mountain moved it further distant.
To be continued. . .
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII