Experiment 32 Sophia

Dreamweaver- age 6

A pretty mansion which is filled with familial love, of knights and ladies and their children in earnest celebration of the new moon at solstice. The home of his lordship is kind and generous. There is plenty for everyone and more.

She is a welcomed stranger among the generations. She watches among the little ones playing. They pull her into their game of rainbows with wide hugs and giggles. They offer her their little sticks and balls of light. Play with us, they chime to her.

Hold the light, they chorus; hold it right, make it grow, share and know. A simple rhyme to teach them the game of life that is lain before them; this is their virtue that becomes their duty.

A small girl puts a tiny orb of violet into her palms which she holds gently. It glows bright from within, a star unto itself. It likes you, and I like you too, the small girl says. The light is not really there. It fades into her hand and glows inside her hands; simultaneously the light flows a brilliant emerald green along the pathways of her veins, turning ruby red when it reaches her heart and pulses once, then twice before going nova.

The girl is amused and giggles. She runs off for a moment and returns with another electric blue orb in her palms. This one is for you, she smiles. She takes the cool blue orb now sparking white at the edges with a sense of belonging together. In her hands, the blue sun flares and gathers circumference, spinning in all directions yet utterly peaceful.

She is fascinated and the children move towards the blue light in awe. Even some of the elders are placing their attention on her. There is a slight sense of trepidation at having done something unusual in this great hall. Breathe, one silver haired elder entreats; breathe with her.

Bluish white light envelopes the hall and the generations within it. Some have taken a step back, away from her. Others frozen hypnotically. Only the children remain unfazed and unfettered by the light. Make it bigger, they whisper; make it grow. She does her best despite not knowing how.

The hall disappears, the people become prickly figures of living energy like strands of coloured smoke.  The blue light expands towards the sky, turning cobalt then lapis blue. It illuminates blankets of clouds. She can still see the light beams in each child's hand or heart pulsing and reflecting, like gentle waves around her in crests and troughs.

This universe of form and formless is born of energy, frequency and vibration. A male voice emanates from inside her mind, comforting and soothing as it guides her next thought - Their heartbeats, their breaths and their thoughts must synchronize for the miracle to unfold.

// She lay awake behind closed eyes. She seemed not to feel the contraction of her heart or the expansion of her lungs; she was between the last breath and the next beat. It was a hidden moment of eternity's gift.

The Dreamweaver – age 11

\\ 10 pm. She eased her muscles away from noticeable tension and in the darkness behind her closed eyes, she saw stars. Not a lot, just a smattering of a star field imagined. She could easily expand the field of vision all around her. She relaxed into the visualization of emptiness. The starlit dots held steady without flickering in her mind’s eye. She could still hear the external sounds of her room’s environment – the whir of the air con’s condenser and the faint criks of the nocturnal insects – mixed with her heart beat and breath.

\\ 12 mn. She was determined to find the line between dreams and reality. She could work on the moments that she noticed that she was the driver of the images and when she was not. She was already unconsciously conscious in her dreams and she needed only to shift to being consciously conscious of every thought and image and sound and sensation and feeling. She was wandering while wondering again. No, she chided herself. Focus on the stars. They had always led her home.

\\ 1 am. She synchronized her heart beat with every imagined star. She perceived a new sound that was not from her environment. She had heard this sound before. It was a hum that sometimes when she drifted in reveries, she heard. It seemed to permeate through her and everything around her.

\\ She drifted again, and restarted her exercise. Star field turned into star fire, a central star now caught her attention and grew steadily into a spinning mass. She held it resolutely and watched as it resolved into more dots of light. Her vision was getting brighter but she would only remember that in hindsight.

\\ The dots became fast-shuffling snapshots of seemingly random people and places across eras. They flickered fervently and were barely discernable individually. They moved so swiftly at what she could only figure as thousands of impressions per unit of time. Her mind’s eye was getting overwhelmed, her heart palpitating erratically and her breath raggedly shallow.

\\ She was processing information bits that she could not consciously understand. As her mental sensations got flooded, so her body reacted minutely but visibly to the changes. A state of mild convulsions gripped her body and jolted her eyes open. She took in a deep breath and consciously processed what she imagined she had imagined. Her body was shivering ever so slightly.

\\ She knew every one of the images remotely. They each held a thousand more indescribable details and they hovered so near to her consciousness, she could almost just express a word for each aspect.

\\ She heard her own thought mentoring her that not all forms were sensible or discernable. That which could be described, would also be distorted and consequently be made untrue.

Every truth is cocooned in a story and filtered in so many ways. A spirit cloaking in so many material layers may also be disguised.

There is a centralised dot of starlight unwavering in front of her. The other points silently fade away. There is only her watching the dot and the space between them.