The Spiral

My face is buried in my hands. "Sigh", I sigh. I'm tired, it's already late at night and I had an exhausting day. It's not only that I had much to do, but also the routine that withers my energy day after day. I'm thinking of nothing in particular; concentrated on relaxing my body, I take a deep breath and stay another minute like that. Normally, I don't turn the lights on if I don't need them. Lights are off, the room would be pitch dark were the window blinds not open. It doesn't make any difference, with my hands over my eyes I can't see anything anyway.

Sometimes I close my eyes to have a better look at myself.

Yet another couple of minutes pass by and everything starts getting darker. Not even my ears can perceive any clear noise. The air stays still, as, apparently, does everything else. It's as if the whole world had agreed on letting me concentrate and have my peace of mind. Suddenly, I reach the point and, for one second, the darkness is total, a darkness of the senses, a darkness that comes from within and, thus, thicker than the mere lack of light. I don't feel anything, don't see, hear or smell. My mouth isn't even there. Not where I am anyway.

It is when I am away from my body, that feelings hit me stronger.

For one whole second, I leave my body completely and turn into a much more vulnerable self. A self without any kind of protection against the outside world whatsoever. For one whole second I forget appearances, judgments, and any kind of interaction. In the depths of the infinite well of my soul, I find myself losing consciousness, losing myself.

It's only after I've lost everything, that I'm capable of anything... of everything

My lost self turns one with my soul. A bottomless well filled up with the infinite of life; I regain consciousness and, with this newly reacquired awareness, I realize I left and came back. I notice I'm in my body again --by the way my body feels, I know it missed me and it's glad to have me back. I'm still in the same room; nothing changed, face still buried in my hands. After breathing as if I were tasting the air for the first time in my life --exquisite elixir of life, filling every inch of me--, I raise my head and, automatically, almost instinctively, turn to look out of the window.

There's a man sitting in the shadows. It's very dark, so I can only notice a figure. It is clear enough though, for me to notice that he's in a profound state of mind. I try to get a better look, but fail at it, it's too dark outside. Then I close my eyes once more.

This time I hear a voice and, in my mind, I can clearly see a man squatting on the grass at night. He is repeating some kind of mantra. I try to make out the words he's pronouncing when he, out of nowhere stops and turns to look at me.

"At last", he says...