There are some titles best never used. Some stories best never told. Perhaps this is one of them. The small room in which he wrote was unusual from almost any perspective, but then perspective is what it's all about, Isn't it? From the point-of-view of any passer's by it was a simple hard-wood cone, almost imperceptible. It took well over four years simply to master the forgotten art of, first steaming, then bending virtually extinct virgin hard-woods from the forest in which it stood. It took him another four years to slice,very carefully, using a laser, the curved hard-wood planks with which he worked.
On the outside it very much resembled a hive, the old Mormon hives seen in ancient lithographs. On the inside it was almost spacious. There were four primary tiers upon which to sit, ZaZen or ChanStyle , all in concentric circles. Four levels of twelve. And in the center, on the floor, as it were, was a simple fire-pit, eternally fed by natural gas from an old mine somewhere below.
Upon each seat was a simple Navaho wearing-blanket and three sheep-skins. The air was filled with a symphony of fragrances, that in and of themselves seemed to induce inner peace. The lighting was indirect, neither bright nor dim, and the temperature quite perfect ... "Quite perfect for what though," One tended to ask, If, that is, one happened upon this place to begin with. Thus starts our story ...
Upon closer examination instead of one rounded cone, there were two. One was inverted and well below ground. About the center there was an inner deck and an outer porch, or patio. Nowhere was a corner, or a right-angle to be found. More surprising was the fact that everything appeared to be made of bent wood. Everything was circular in nature. From time to time, if you were observant, a glint of burnished copper would catch your eyes for a moment, glistening in the soft gas light.
If one were to stand or sit there at the entrance long enough, one might notice that the two central rings moved, rotated, and in opposite directions, driven by hidden hard wood gears and a water wheel in a nearby brook or stream. Only a soft and muted hum was a clue, and only a few ever noticed as the entire structure was well hidden, so well did it match or fit in with it's environment.
As he wrote in that little anteroom to the left, the sun began to set, the moon began to rise and one by one they entered, taking their seats silently upon the sheep-skins and the rugs. The only movement you may have perceived was the subtle rearrangement of the skins as they folded their legs and sat, full lotus, upon the rings. They were clothed, all of them, men and women alike, in homespun, natural cotton from the fields laying hither and yon amid the forest and the adjoining grounds. It was unbleached, and seemingly white in the glow of the central flame and gas lights about the structure. All was aglow. Strangely peaceful and serene.
As the two celestial bodies passed on the horizon, the crickets began their song. Almost in unison those gathered here began to breathe as if on cue. Softly, gently they began, in preparation for the evening ahead. "In through the nose. Out through the nose." As they had so many times before. They imagined that they were breathing the very magnetism of the cosmos, generated by so many billions and billions of stars and star systems that no man, or group of men for that matter, could hope to count or label. They breathed in through the nose, but as if they were breathing through the center of their crowns. They imagined and began to feel, as this cosmic magnetic energy flowed through their crowns and down. Down through their medullas. Down through their throat chakras. Down through their hearts. Down through their solar plexus, and out through the base of their spines, into the earth itself. Into the very core of the earth.
" In through the nose. Out through the nose." With each breath all the impurities of the day passed into the earth and they were purified, replenished, revivified by the very energy of the cosmos.
The early evening air hung lightly, like crisp cotton sheets, it's thread-count one-thousand-four-hundred and forty-four fragrances of late-blooming wild flowers, young leaves and blossoms, just fallen and moist loam. Just a hint, persistent and lingering like candles in filagree .
" In through the nose. Out through the mouth." All imagining as if, seated hundreds of feet beneath an early spring waterfall, the water lightly caressing the crowns of their head. Holding this vision they were refreshed as the gentle limestone stream filled their chakras in reverse order, from the bottom, at the base of the spine, slowly to the top. Pooling lightly at the solar plexus, soothing the heart, cooling and refreshing the throat chakra and the skull. Streaming thence toward the heavens like a gentle geyser, removing once again the remaining impurities of the day. " In through the nose. Out through the mouth." Yet breathing in, and out, as if through the top and center of the crown chakra.
A small stir or tremble was felt, almost perceived as those gathered anticipated the next stage of the purification. They all recalled as well, the warning, given only once, needed only once, many years ago. " Moderate the flame."
" In through the mouth. Out through the nose. " They shifted their combined attention, in unison, to the solar plexus, breathing in firmly, but just firmly, as if through the umbilicous and imaging a small, glowing ember just above and slightly behind the belly. Some of them called this the billows breath for obvious reasons, and for reasons equally obvious it had to be checked, kept in control. By controlling the breath, one quickly learned to control the spiritual fire so generated. A small flame was imaged or imagined that just barely, as in almost, touched the heart chakra above.
In point of fact the flame never touched the heart chakra, rather it excited or stimulated the heart chakra in such a way that it, in turn, begins to iridesce or more accurately fluoresce . The trick, if any, lay just as much in visualizing the out-breath and the in-breath in a loop, a sort of closed-loop, as it were. " In through the mouth. " but as if through the belly-button. " Out through the nose. " but continuous. Out and down the outer surface of the body and back in again through the belly- Hence billows breath. The association with the flame certainly doesn't hurt. < smile >.
As if they were but one being, the next stage or level began. Their heart chakras began to glow and emerge, stimulated by the stages before and pulsate. Glowing globes of light they were, pulsating to the rhythm of their hearts, beating as one nearly sixty beats per minute.
" In through the nose and mouth, gently, and as if through every pore of the body. "
It was like unto the mysterious energy of the sun itself. On the in-breath fusion at the very deepest levels. On the out-breath sheer radiance, growing breath by breath until they all merged and continuing until the entire cosmos was filled with the light of their being, until there was only light ...
Standing in just the right place within the santuary, and in just
the right light, the right attitude, one might notice the twelve
practitioners transforming before ones eyes ... Where once
there were seated bodies, glimmering orbs of light began to
form. Pulsing and scintillating as if composed of myriad rays,
growing, and growing with each passing breath ... Like so
many bubbles upon the crest of a wave, until they each, in
rapid succession began to merge and spiral toward the
nadir of the ceiling above, and magically beyond.
A spiral of light began to form, and when they had all touched
and enjoined, burst to the very heavens in a brilliant and laser
like display ...
Eric
a.k.a. Singulus
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Comments: 7
The last 3 paragraphs are invocative of the birth of the Hindu goddess Devi -- created from the rainbow colors of pure thought of the three great Hindu gods -- expressly for the purpose of doing battle with a major force of spiritual "darkness" and most grave threat to the dominion of the gods, the demon "Durga"...
I love the image of the curved pieces of burnished wood, spiraling to the "nadir" -- another reference (to my mind) which I associate with the "great wheel" of the cosmos...
Good stuff, Eric... good stuff...
Have lovely evening!