The invitation

I stood on the balcony facing the mist, watching the sheer curtain dancing with the wind. I was by myself, but I knew that I wasn't alone. There was a presence with me. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it—healing energy in the background of whatever I was experiencing. Was it a dream? Was I imagining things? Was I in a place I had been before but, for some reason, couldn't remember? It didn't really matter in that moment. All I cared about was this curtain suspended in mid-air that appeared to be attached to nothing. The way it moved fascinated me; I couldn't take my eyes off it.

Directly in front of me was a cluster of buildings. I could see them through the curtain if I squinted hard enough. At least, that's what they looked like from where I stood--buildings. God only knows what they really were. And they kept changing colors. Pink, purple, blue, green, orange...every time the wind changed direction, the curtain revealed a new reality. What is real and what isn't? That was the question that kept flowing to the surface of my mind during this surreal experience. One moment I was looking at buildings. Then, the wind would suddenly kick up, moving the curtain in a way that had me questioning what I was really seeing. What was the truth? Sometimes the buildings looked real. But there were also times when they seemed to be subjects in a watercolor painting, colors dripping into other colors to form new colors and new shapes.

I find it interesting that this happened in 2012 and I can still remember every single detail of it vividly. These days, I forget the reason why I walked into another room.

​Back to my story. Suddenly, as if I was in a movie, everything changed. The wind blew harder, the light intensified, and the buildings disappeared. Then, just as suddenly, everything faded to black. I closed my eyes and opened them again, wondering where I really was, wondering if I was really back in my bed.