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  • Writer's pictureAlexsondra Tomasulo

Might This Be Paradise

I lay unplugged, in what I can only describe as paradise.

The sky was almost cloudless, except for one, billowy puff every now and then, like a semi transparent cotton ball. Each one would seem to pause as if it were a messenger sent to release sacred information only translatable through microscopic droplets, inpercievable to the human condition. Why would I know this? Perhaps because I at the same exact time, experienced a sensation in my head, that was something similar to a gentle wind, it had the faintest sound of a comforting hum.I cannot say why I found none of this startling or disturbing. On the contrary, it was almost familiar. Perhaps others have experienced such moments, I'm fairly certain I don't stand alone. Maybe these uncanny, other worldly connections happen to the daydreamers, poets and musicians? Of course they wold happen to painters, but only the ones who strain to see beyond the surface of things.I know this is true, because Van Gogh spoke of it, and his paintings were proof of it.How can a tree be more than a tree, or a splintered picnic table extend itself to more than a place to eat? Why are we in awe of the traveler who climbs Mt. Katahdin, and not also in awe of the one sitting in silence, allowing the simple ordinary sights move them to tears? One tree offers shade to a writer, one table reminds us of travelers past, a small slice of water, for bathers and birds and possibly boats, none are so grandiose, nor enlightening in and of themselves. And, yet, we are transported, to a space of non judgement, non duality. A space where in one minute, thoughts can mingle together like spring leaves in the wind, and in the next minute, other thoughts can collide like chaotic cars in a busy city street with no traffic signs.

This magnificent space is where we become the observer, without criticism. It's a most sacred and holy space. I can best describe it like seeing multiple jigsaw puzzles being dropped to the floor and the observer is invited to create an entirely new scene. Similar to connecting the dots, but with no template nor preordained goal in mind. Some might consider it a vacation from the mind as we know it. While others simply accept it as playful daydreaming. I do know that whenever we approach a thought with a sense of play, we become like children. ...."out of the mouths of babes...

I have had the great honor of caretaking several elderly people right up to their last breath. The ones who faired best were the ones who kept their heart open, and their mind playful. Yes, it takes courage, however, courage needn't be analogous with carrying a boulder up Mount Fuji.

Like most things of any consequence, it requires a space of allowance, a willingness to be silly,

and a determination to be free.


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