A Metaphysical Without a View

Words

I emerge from the darkness of sleep and I am standing in the infinite hallway of the subconscious mind.

Hundreds of white doorways line long white walls; all are closed and some are locked. The fluorescent lights cover the ceiling like a buzzing, glowing mosaic.

This place makes me feel weirdly relaxed; a strange dimension where I can never stay long. This is the safe house – a sub-conscious waiting room.

The rule is: I have to open a door and walk through it. There are no clues in this place suggesting what could be on the other side. I might find a garden path leading to future nostalgia, or face to face with the glowing eyes of the lingering fears.

Choose now, don’t think too hard about it or the material world will invade the meditating mind. Time doesn’t stop in any realm and soon I’ll wake up, hurtling back into a frenzy of distractions and mortal shortcomings.

I count seven steady breaths as I walk quickly down the corridor, face the door on my left and turn the handle, then walk into the light.

 

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