Staring at The Sun


The eyes hurt a little. Blinded by a bright light, that is seen for the first time through a lens, which needs to adjust to its experience of a vision that is actually physical. Real. The light filtered back to the brain. A brain deciphering reality!! The device for experiencing this.. this… collision. ‘You shouldn’t stare directly at the Sun. It can permanently damage your sight. Where did you fall from?’ Hand offered. Something tangible. Solid. Feeling the muscle behind the soft skin as the grip tightens around my hand and pulls. The warmth and the sensation of reaction as the connection is made. A male. A pounding sensation kicks off from deep inside. The ice begins to melt and the usual liquid knowing that runs in a faster vibrating sphere is slowed way down, visibly changing and morphing observed from a second sight and replaced with.. feeling...? All this happening at several levels simultaneously and it is making me dizzy. Finally it stabilizes, and I recognize the pull. He’s at the other end of it. Instantly a thick, intense pound begins inside. But that’s not what hurts. Looking around the place, noticing the tall trees, the wild flowers, green grass that is so soft under my aching feet it almost makes me want to cry. The sweet scents and fumes kickstarts another inner sensation and gives off a growling sound from my stomach.. Physical hunger. Food. Life. Rest. Everything here is lush, so the opposite of the vast, dry, empty desert I just came from.. Vague memories of the lonely walk where the only sensation was enduring the hot, dry sand under my feet, making the walk meditative, trancelike, with little or no water, colorless even.. I loved my desert. I loved it there. There was time to think theoretical thoughts. In stillness. Quiet. Status quo. Time to sit on top of those lonely mountains and transcend to others spheres, where wisdom was transmitted and understood. Spending my time giving off hypothetical speeches to an invisible audience. All the words correct. The rhetoric well and therefore plausible. Painting such beautiful invisible images. So quick they dissolve back into the thin air, I manifested them from. It was a good time. I felt safe there. Like in a cocoon. A womb like condition. Never having to be born. And then there was the attraction to follow that bright light. A yearning inside. An ache. A longing. The pull was too strong to resist. I look again at this bright light in front of me.. I want to object and tell him I wasn’t looking at the Sun. I was distracted and stumbled, and then something began to hurt intensely. A sharp instant pain. ‘You’re bleeding! It was quite a fall you took there, landing on the sharp rock.. Let me see’. More of those warm touches sending a thrilling sensation through me, something I never seem to have experienced before. I cringe under his examining touch, blushing. The thawing ice, the replaced liquid in my soul’s essence is now flowing freely through this locked up, aching body and the ability to feel is turning into emotions, and they are giving me away. So much blood in this body. Hot blood. And the plasma seem to have a secret plot with neurotransmitters, for together they run and tell, like sentinels at guard. Then like ancient original witchcraft a third substance is produced, that make the blood go even wilder, and thus the transmitters run back to tell again, and the whole affair is intensified and starts over again. Primitive, but effective! And I have to laugh a little. I want to tell him everything about the desert and the meditative state I just came from. The place where everything is translucent. Obvious. Known. Easy. Because it all moves in frequencies. Vibration. Light. Telepathically. Contained in an energetic state of mass, there are no need for words or action. It is. An awareness. A knowing that cannot easily be explained, for words are superfluous and not needed. Why take the time to explain something that IS? Pleonasms. Waste of energy. Here I am challenged with having to find use of a tongue in cooperation with the opening where those sounds will exit. They will form something called words, which will activate the resonating spot in his brain, allowing my words to decode into an understanding in his system. And that is communication. The most complex invention on this planet. Words are either so voluminously spoken, at the risk of containing nothing and thus empty, or laden with a zillion other meanings than the ones, they did agree is the original, even documented in a sort of Bible-like equivalent called a Dictionary. Further extended and defined in more serious collections called Lexicons, in case, when words really lost their original vibe, the need to lead people back to language would come. ‘Shall we address that wound and stop the bleed?’ He is clearly amused. ‘And then you can tell me from where you fell.’ He winks, as if he knows exactly what’s going on in this strange scenario. All this attraction is clearly igniting all kinds of physical reactions, but I was drawn by the intensity of his bright light. He is so beautiful. I may have been staring at the metaphysical Sun too long, and find it it surprising that someone else can shine as bright and therefore distract my fixed stare. A male, even. We collided here. I stumbled out of my lonely desert because something pulled so hard in me. I see, he is still surprised that he did the pulling, completely unaware that he did.Perhaps that is why I landed on a Rock. He was going somewhere entirely else. I try in vain to get him to understand, that when walking alone in a dry, hot desert, a frozen heart comes in handy as a cooling device. The worlds we just came from are so different, yet we seem to be so the same. His jungle is full of life and new adventures. So much activity here. ‘Don’t worry about the wildlife,’ he says. ‘I will protect you.’ I have stopped bleeding. My wound is healed. Perhaps that is why the surrendering to this man with magic hands makes sense. Plus the pull. The feeling of gravity and home. The rushing blood sensation. But the light he shines, and the feeling of belonging right here makes all the difference. Familiarity. Knowing I can put my suitcase down. That he is slowly, but surely becoming my best friend. He may just yet have to teach me about translating feelings into words. Explain me their meaning. And how to live in the jungle. I can teach him a little bit about walking in the desert and climbing those sacred mountains where you can just transcend into stillness.

​© 2020 by Camila Reland

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