Jar of Juice

Reaching Singularity

My feet felt the earth, coldly warm and moist; a fertile earth that speaks of many tongues: that of the lemon, the olives, the oranges, the bay leaves.

The earth let out a sigh whispering to the wind its secrets.

Senses awakened,
Winds caress the lake beyond.
The smell of bay leaves.

I took the bay leaves from the earth. The textures brushed against my thumb like an ancient script carved in a fragile cloth. The words were beyond understandable; the earth’s alphabet written and shaped by the tongue of the winds.

There is an experience a longed for, that of singularity. To be one with nothing, and yet everything. The colors and shapes of the world limit your imagination. But complete blankness, an empty state of mind, has unlimited creativity, and unlimited potential.

It was the first and only time in my life I longed for nothing.

I closed my eyes. Breathing controlled in a very faint, slow rythm.

The earth enveloped my feet, the wind engaged with the bay leaves in my hands. I took a breath.

The sunlight slowly faded away. The tree I leaned my back on lost its support… I felt afloat. The wind no longer moved. Everything became still.

Element by element, my surroundings disappeared. I lost my feeling of the leaves. I could no longer feel the texture, nor the moist earth, or the sun’s warm rays or the winds chant.

The lake disappeared last.

My conscious, for the first time ever, felt indistinct from my subconscious, until it fell asleep. My subconcious arose, and I sang of feeling.

Lost fragments of thoughts wandered like spirits, until they, too, became ashes of a flame.

I was in total darkness, with no feelings of coldness, warmth, dryness, wetness…. no lust, no love, no hate, no fear… a state of nothing, and yet everything.

I did not even feel happy.

I did not feel any emotion… I do not remember any form of feeling or seeing anything except complete darkness.

The only feeling I could possibly relate to was peace.. but even that I could not define in absolute terms.

Hours and hours passed by …

Until my conscious surfaced again… and the senses rushed back, and the elements of my surroundings came to.

It barely passed a minute, in real life. But it was the best less than a minute I have ever experienced Syria.

I kept the bay leaves.

Posted in: holiday, personal, syria