Ten Days in the Time Tunnel
Mahn risks his life by attempting a bold plot to rescue Tzalaii, while Sihara’s words echo in his head: “Good depth in exchange for evil depth…”
Warriors of Transcendence, Part 40
Stunned, Tzalaii gazed at his sister, at Mahn, at the illuminated stone wall and the turquoise-colored water streaming in the crevices. He felt incapable of distinguishing between fantasy and reality. In the enormity of the events, so much had been left unsaid. Mahn, astounded by the abrupt transformation from the Tower to this place, was bursting with questions. Sihara pictured the Master of Transcendence in her mind’s eye, wishing to tell the others about his closeness, but it was not the right time.
She removed bread and fruit from her satchel, arranging them in an appealing manner. Mahn and Tzalaii ate a little, and then stretched out on the ground, falling into a deep, prolonged sleep. Sihara felt encouraged knowing that there were many Transparent Ones close by, in fact, just down the road.
They shall recover, she reassured herself many times, as she watched the curled -up sleeping beings, still fearful even as they slept. They shall recover and discover new, persistent strengths within them. They will be able to withstand any threat. They shall be cured by the Master of Transcendence.
Mahn and Tzalaii awoke on the evening of the following day, and sat up silently. Mahn was deep in thought, recalling the events of the last few days and, in fact, reviewing the events of his entire life. Tzalaii, his soul pained and aching, played with the smooth rocks by the wellsprings, tossing them into the water, one by one, as he had done when he was a child in the village. Sihara watched him compassionately, and smiled: “Now you are protected,” she said softly, “as you were before, when we were children. The Master of Transcendence himself is guiding and accompanying you.”
She recounted her story to Tzalaii and Mahn, explaining her experiences in the Shadow Valley and at Fire Mountain. She told them, in great detail, about her journey through the seven gates, and about her encounter with the Master of Transcendence. Mahn’s eyes opened wide, as if he were unable to digest so much information. Tzalaii listened to her attentively, speaking only once: “I have already met a man on Green Isle who knew about these things and he told me the same story. It happened just before we were captured by the soldiers.”
The next day, Sihara decided it was time to give Tzalaii the instructions she had received from the Master of Transcendence. Tzalaii had difficulty understanding why she called them healing instructions, but as they were given by the Master of Transcendence, he accepted them without question.
“During the next ten consecutive days,” explained Sihara, “you are to devote at least an hour each day to do the following: Close your eyes and imagine yourself in your most beloved place. Once you have created a sufficient image in your mind, and you appear in it clearly, you must call yourself out loud: ‘Tzalaii’. The intention of this calling is to return and reconnect with yourself.” Tzalaii followed the instructions carefully.
Tzalaii’s experience on the first day:
I close my eyes and try to imagine myself. At first, I encounter only a dark empty void. After some time, an image is revealed from within the darkness. I see myself from behind, sitting erectly, proudly aloof, on the edge of a great cliff overlooking the sea, spread out in the distance. Tzalaii is dressed in a golden cloak. Dark clouds shift in the sky, and the weather is stormy. “Tzalaii,” I call him, “Tzalaii…Tzalaii…”
I sense that he hears me, but he does not turn his face towards me. Is he angry with me? I approach him quietly and sense a tense resistance. Have I wronged him in any way?
A short distance away from him, I come to a halt, sit on the ground and continue to call him slowly, pleadingly, as Sihara advised me: “Tzalaii…Tzalaii…Tzalaii.”
I intend to tell him: ‘Don’t be angry with me. Turn to me, speak to me!’ But the barrier he erects remains between us. His apathy is an insult to me. Have I behaved so badly that I deserve such treatment? Why does he make me feel so bad about myself? I begin to tire of my pursuit. Much time passes. Weary and in despair, I consider the possibility of retracing my steps. This proud and unfamiliar being that happens to be me, will never even grant me a simple glance… But no, I shall not give up.
I take a deep breath and scream at the top of my lungs: “Tzalaii!!! “
He turns his face and looks at me. Anything would have been better than that look, even if he were to ignore me forever. His glance, full of blame, makes me shrink in place as if he had said: “How dare you even approach me, you lowly, miserable creature! We share nothing in common.”
Why does he despise me so? I cannot stand it.
Fog is rolling in from the sea and blocking visibility. Tzalaii returns his glance to the water, and I catch short glimpses of him, sitting proudly, through the fog. I am filled with anger. I have never deliberately harmed him, I barely even know him! I must conquer my fears and get closer. I want him to explain his behavior to me. Rain begins to fall and my clothes become drenched. Droplets wet my face as well. No, these are not tears; my heart is too dry, too angry to cry. Humiliated and full of resentment, I walk through the fog and approach him. I notice his royal stature and admire him. He appears in my eyes as a man of great importance. The anger in my heart weakens, and is replaced by a great desire to become acquainted with this person, myself. “Tzalaii” I whisper, still fearful of his reaction.
I reach my hand out, longing to touch him. The sea in the distance is turbulent, terrifying, but Tzalaii seems to be entirely unaware of the concept of fear. Once again, he turns around and looks at me. This time, though, his gaze is not hate-filled, and he seems less resistant. But something else, something bittersweet, is apparent in his eyes. It is compassion. Compassion resulting from contempt, the compassion that can be felt by a winner for a loser; the compassion of a wise man for a mindless fool; the compassion of one who is pure, radiant, and alive towards one who is writhing in wickedness and sin, dwelling in darkness all of his days, unaware of the significance of life.
I am no longer offended. I am astonished by his glance and it pierces me painfully. Have I really gone that far? Something in me shatters. I fall to his feet as to the feet of a king, and beg for my life: “Tzalaii…” I whisper to him voicelessly as I think: ‘Oh, great and almighty Tzalaii, raise me up from destitution!’
How is it possible that he and I are one and the same, when we inhabit two opposing planes that never meet?
The time is up. His image blurs and fades. I open my eyes. They are filled with tears.
To be continued.
***
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(With sincere gratitude to www.levhadvarim.com)
2/06/2011
Amazing image of a person seeking communication with his inner self Tzalaii trying to talk to the ideal Tzalaii – whether you say soul or conscious or point of holiness – that really says what the struggle can feel like for a person trying to live up to the best of him (her) self.
2/06/2011
Tzalaii trying to talk to the ideal Tzalaii – whether you say soul or conscious or point of holiness – that really says what the struggle can feel like for a person trying to live up to the best of him (her) self.