I sat in the lair for most of the night. Snake had gone off to start some shit attend to private matters. I had already resolved to go alone back to the Path of Vau, even leaving the beads behind. He and the beads had helped me recover, but I felt I was at risk of using them as a crutch. Whatever the crowned and throned figure had for me, it was for me alone.
It was also for another time.
Tonight was one for reflection. For watching the sun symbols turn silently on the ceiling. For noting Snake had placed little fish in the bowl with the miniature lotuses. For writing the owner of the human hand artifact and asking for further instructions. For watching fourteen cowrie shells crawl over each other. For feeling the six minions (Yes. Six. Feed them well enough and they undergo mitosis.) tie each other in knots as they play. For catching my reflection and noting I look nothing like I physically am, and worse than the last time I saw my monstrous form, yet feeling more at ease with my self and the nature that is still being revealed.
It is interesting to note, that my descent into madness was driven by a desire to be as human as those that tormented me, and my ascent into myself is driven by a desire to be myself even if what emerges is far from what my society and bastard culture tells me I should be.
I closed my eyes.
I opened them in a different realm. The Nagalands. It is a delightful spring day. Puffy clouds are barely seen through the glowing green canopy. It had rained yesterday, but the heavy humidity had already gone. The dirt path to the boulder was neat and dry. The granite boulder itself was devoid even of dust. I leaned against it. The warm stone felt inviting. The river nearby gossiped to the trees. The trees swayed in laughter.
There is something here. It was here long before I was first brought here by a now-departed guide. It will be here long after my ashes are trod into the ground of the Boneyard. I have never seen it. Snake tells me it has watched me from the beginning. It is watching me even now. I have felt its effects on me, have benefitted from its mercy, but have never seen it.
I likely never will. Snake said that as long as I don’t see the entity, I can’t see the entity. Odd choice of wording, but he was insistent on it. Another puzzle. In the meantime, I am saddened. I want to see it. Snake has said it has been in front of my face many times. But until I do see it, I won’t.
He also said it misses me. So, here I am. It keeps the boulder clean, keeps the path clear for me. I used to sit here for hours in quiet meditation, when I used to be able to meditate. Sitting here, ignorant of the company that guarded me in my naivete. I’m too restless to sit, however. Instead I pour jasmine and hibiscus flowers over the boulder. Fresh fragrant blooms in honor of the one ever with me, ever unseen.
I drop a flower. In the time it took me to bend down, retrieve it, and stand back up, all the flowers have been removed. I place the fallen flower on the stone. I feel something giggling above me. I start to look up, only to have all the removed flowers showered on my head. The giggles become silent laughter. I laugh along in unrestrained mirth.
I shake my head and wipe the pollen from my face as the number of flowers dwindle. When I look up, all the flowers that fell to my feet are gone. They are now arranged in patterns on the boulder. A large circle of garlanded blooms lie along the edge of the boulder. A cross of tied flowers fits snugly within. Loose flowers placed in swirls and spirals lie over each other. I feel more flowers in my hands. I place them in the open spaces, adding length to the swirls and arcs already placed. As I walk around the boulder, I see some of the blooms have been tied together by stems and hung off the girdling garland. There is a sense of completeness here. Mutual satisfaction perfumes the air.
Lethargy overtakes me. A gentle tug on my arm almost pulls me over. I turn as I stumble to recover. A new path leads away from the boulder. I follow and find a freshly dug hollow at the base of a large tree. The forest becomes silent, in the way of changing seasons. I lay down in the hollow, noting an exposed root is perfect to rest my head against.
I close my eyes and feel something covering me. As cool as the gentle breeze, as light as leaves, the something blankets me but doesn’t restrict me. I don’t open my eyes, but reach out with a hand and motion like I’m pulling someone close to me.
My arm encloses on something made of nothing. My sense of touch says there is nothing there, but my muscles feel resistance. I smile. I can’t see the entity, but that hasn’t stopped me from interacting with it. I choose to ignore sight, then, and enjoy what I can.
The something allows itself to be pulled in my embrace. I smell cool damp dirt, flowing water, green leaves, fresh flowers, and something I can’t identify, but has been here all the time. The something gently grips me, and I fall into deeper sleep.