Open Eyes

Sitting before my altar, I closed my eyes.
I breathed.
I listened.

My inner eyes opened. In truth, my left eye was only half open. And in my mind's eye, I stepped into the circle that was before me. I moved into a realm where trees are entwined and moss is bright on everything.

I turned around and looked out at my life. I splashed a little muddy soil and bark into my own reality so as not to forget about the otherworld I was now visiting comfortably. I sat quietly and listened some more.

My closed eyes looked out and saw the veins of my eyelids and then a single eye appeared before me. It was my own eye – perhaps my middle eye. This dark image stared peacefully and knowingly at me. We were instantly familiar.

I asked (myself) what it was I needed to hear. I silently told myself that all I needed to hear was, “You can, and you will”. I somewhat wondered what I meant, but at the same time I already knew. I reassured myself that, in time, when it was right, I would have all the answers that I need, if I took the time to look within.

My left eye then peered out, more confidently than before. I wanted to take in with full view the unfaltering, unblinking, uncomplicated eye I saw before me.

I breathed some more.
I listened some more.

I saw myself gathering all of the dirty laundry within my own body and heap it into the basket I was apparently carrying to take with me as an offering. I took the stairs up, headed confidently somewhere into a void, although I did not know where or why, I only trusted myself.

There were five stairs that I could see, and I heard a thought whisper that they each represented a sense: sight, smell, sound, touch and taste. They were small steps, but they were huge in what they represented. Symbolically, I made it to a sixth platform. I wanted to savor this sense and glean any wisdom this extra sensory perception was able to share.

I stood at the sixth step and reached out my basket in front of me. The basket transformed into a light cauldron, and lit beneath it was the clear fire of my will. The black mass immediately dissolved into smoke and was gracefully delivered into the outer realms of where I was standing, somewhere deep within. I heard my brother’s reminder to thank myself, so I did, right then and there.

I sat down. I imagined a magic carpet floating beneath me, to carry me back to the entrance of the porthole. I slipped through it quickly and like in a movie, the special effects showed me my profile upon exit, where a mercurial-like membrane had encapsulated me and I was easily released from its dreamy grasp, to land safely in my own reality.

I turned around and kind of “unzipped” myself from the meditation tent I had drawn myself into and watched the third eye softly close. After a moment, I returned my attention to the hallway I was sitting in before my altar.

I opened my eyes.
My eyes have been opened.