A Room with a View, II

Part Two

We explore further. And the undercurrent reveals something of its own movement.

(Part One)


You have returned.

You probably did not leave, but I can see you now, across the room. For that I am immensely grateful, and I have already said from the beginning that your presence is my joy.

I have now wandered freely within this room and approached the veil many times. It is a single veil, unbroken all around, except as described below. This I discovered as I looked for a corner to the room. I marked my beginning point with something I found in a pocket (it was an almond), and I walked the entire space alongside the veil, even touching it periodically ensuring that I stayed close. I did not find a corner. That may be best for me, as I am inclined to go to corners, and watch and wait in them. It occurred to me upon passing the side door, that I could have marked my beginning by that door. So I retraced my steps, reclaimed the almond, and carried it to the door, leaving it there until I would return later to pick it up and keep it close to me in my pocket.

This journey may have occupied me awhile, but I was hardly aware of time passing because, as we have already noted t = t0/(1-v2/c2)1/2 . And when I returned and placed the almond in my pocket, it was as if I had not traveled at all.

There are none, no corners, and no ceiling and hardly a floor (as there is much that lies below there in the undercurrent), yet I still have that sense this is a room. We are in a room, you and I. And the others. Perhaps I will learn more of this, but it seems mostly that it is you and I, and then others. You may disagree, as you are here too, but I am writing. That is all I can do about this. So, you and I and the others. Except what is beyond the veil, and I will tell you more about what I know of that presence in Part Beyond . . .

And as for the undercurrent, I will henceforth call it The Flow. It is a current, and it is under, but it is more, as I will tell you.

I wrote earlier (not in time, but in word space, remember) that there are two doors. Now I believe there is only the one, the side door. When I saw it last, today actually, it had blood on it, as if it were organic and had been wounded. I opened the door, and on both sides there was this blood, through and through it seemed;  I believe a necessary part of that door is the blood. I had noticed it earlier of course, thinking it a darkened place on the surface, but it is part of the door, one with its surface.

So, using insufficient words, it is a door made of an unknown substance with a necessary portion of it being blood. And it is a door by which one enters this vast room with no corners or ceiling and barely a floor because of The Flow. And the door is in a veil surrounding this room.

What I had thought was another door, the one that cannot be opened, is not a door. It is some kind of difference in the fabric of the veil. As I got closer, centimeters away, I could see that it had once been opened perhaps, but has been stitched closed. I tried, actually tried, to pull the threads loose, but was unable even to discern how to begin. There suddenly was simply nothing in my mind that could comprehend how to do it. I smiled, and then laughed remembering a time in the outer world when I volunteered to be hypnotized.

I was younger, and I was walking around in a shopping center watching people. A large crowd was gathered in the center atrium area, and as I approached them I heard a man talking about lemons. He was on a stage talking to the crowd about lemons and began telling them, now me, to imagine biting into a lemon. Imagine the burst of sour on your tongue, he was saying, and how it spreads throughout your mouth even throughout your jaws. How many of you can actually feel it, feel the tart/sour juice? How many of you have saliva now merging with the juice of the lemon that is in your mouth? Who among you knows that it is almost the same: having a lemon in your mouth or in your mind? I did, and a few others, perhaps, and we raised our hands. Then he said, come on up if you want to be hypnotized. I can do that, hypnotize you, he said. So, I went up on the stage. A dozen of us from the crowd. He told us immediately that he was going to make it so that we could not tie a simple knot in a piece of rope, a cord actually. He handed us each a length of cord, and asked us to tie a knot. We all did, easily. Ok, untie it, hold an end in each hand, and relax. He then spoke to us in a very calm voice, and I vividly remember thinking that I would not sell out . . . Just listen to the sound of my voice, not even the words . . . just what I am really saying . . . and I would not pretend to be unable to tie a knot . . . and he was saying . . . and I am sorry, but I can hear you loud and clear, and it is not working . . . and he was talking calmly and confidently . . . and I am thinking that in one minute I am going to go ahead and tie a knot and go back to watching people and find something of more interest . . . and close your eyes for just a second, he said . . . and when I snap my fingers you can open your eyes . . . I am going to tie it . . . and very calmly . . . you cannot tie a knot in that cord . . . and I thought OK I will do it anyway .

The tip of his thumb and the center finger of his right hand press against each other.

And in one motion that center finger flies free, fighting the friction, liberated from being held, and it slams against the soft underbelly of that thumb.

Snap!

I opened my eyes, moved one end of the cord toward the other, and then stopped. I did not know what to do next. I stared at each end, and could not work out in my mind what to do in order to tie a knot. I released each end and rubbed each palm on each thigh to warm my hands, to wake them up, and then I tried again. I could not conceive of any way to do it, to tie a simple knot. I stared at him, and he smiled, and I looked at the others on stage and they were all as perplexed as I was. And then he said thank you, and we all stepped off the stage. I looked around and found absolutely nothing of more interest than what had just happened. It was many hours later, nearly a day, before I could tie a knot, this time in a belt that I had left on the table before rushing out the door that morning.

It’s true, it did happen in the outer world, and as I remembered that un-knotted cord, I smiled. And as I laughed about that cord, looking at the threads in the veil, there seemed to be an echo in return. But, it was someone else laughing with me. I became very comfortable in this room with that shared laughter. Comfortable with that cord from then to now, a connection to you in this room laughing with me . . .

I could not pull those threads loose, even while smiling, and I knew that the veil had a purpose, and at the proper moment it would open without any effort by me. Thinking this, I went slowly toward the side door. That, I knew, could be opened. I traveled in my mind, but then I was there.

At the door. I saw the blood, and somewhat reluctantly in will, but with no hesitation or fear, I reached up and touched it. I lightly brushed my fingers across the blood of the pierced door, and it opened in silence to the outer world. It opened with no sound, but I heard something. Felt it. Physically experienced it. It was touching me! I mentioned The Flow and its constant sound, the sound of wind/river in non-linear motion, the feeling of an amazing, stunning volume of movement. And how that sound is always in this room, and yet the door had opened in silence, and I was being touched. Now . . .

And with this realization, The Flow revealed more of its nature. It is not limited at all to this room; it is in the outer world too.

The Flow is everywhere . . .


Come back for Part Three, in which we discuss The Flow and discover the purpose of the room.

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