The small plastic scale tray is flicked on the bottom depositing the THH under my tongue. I sink deep into the couch accompanied by mild pre-flight jitters. A deep pull from the wand who's tube stretches back to a sally and spice sandwich brings the flush of calm. Fearlessness is here, not of courage, but of knowing I'm home again. Somehow against the tranquility where I could rest for eternity, the will is focused enough to coordinate the clunky body. The preloaded GVG is lifted and final launch initiated.
The familiar multidimensional space behind the eyes unfolds in its usual unnerving way. Then the body is gone and I am without boundaries. I am tearing through the dark cosmos on the leading edge of a glistening silver web. A penetrating and soothing tone vibrates every atom of existence. A dragonfly on each side is pulling their web. Wings are translucent clouds of purposeful motion. They are my transporters. This is their frequency. I cannot understand but am in awe of their skill. The left dragonfly is in focus. His human face looks my way to acknowledge, yet he never takes is focus from his perfect task. We arrive.
I am in a bustling theater before the show. Intricate and ornate. Warm sconce lighting along the wall illuminating the grand hall in all its capacity. The vibration is thick. I am walking an isle yet felt ropes cordon off the seating rows. He grabs my left arm. I see his burgundy robe and golden vest. His warm familiar face smiles behind his signature spectacles as he pulls me into the row over the ropes. I'm uneasy about this move. I do not see her until her arms are around me in a sideways hug from the right. Pure white flowing hair and fair skin. She is the blend of a dear older friend and a cherished Vedanta teacher. We laugh together. Old friends, home again.
But I'm feeling out of place in this venue. They laugh reassuringly and direct my attention to an empty seat. I bashfully sit feeling unworthy between them. The lights fade down. The trademark THX swoon alters the vibration. He excitedly pats my leg as if we are in the front coaster car about to crest the peak. She ruffles my hair like a wiser sister trying to loosen my nerves. Here we go. Now we are pure energy rushing the stage into the show itself as it begins - my human eyes open. For a moment we all look out these eyes. We laugh because we know we will forget, but know that's the beauty of it. Then we are just me, on the couch again - the show has begun. I survey the implements on the coffee table. The empty space where spice once was; the crafted glass pipe; the engineered ceramic element; the white spent sage leaf. All of this! All of this to satisfy the mind and allow it to return to the dream as if this was just a short visit to another world - when in truth it is here that we are visiting and it is this visit that is short.
I close my eyes and let all this sink in and some to slip away - there's no point fighting. Unexpectedly, I am shown a sunlit spring day. Short perfectly cut grass. Maples lining the cemetery breathe tall and deep in the breeze. A headstone is before me. I'm at peace and understand it is my coil six feet below. I think "See! As wonderful as it was, that never was who I am." and I laugh as the engraved punch line hits, which reads exactly: "Here lies S.W.I.M."
