It wasn’t long before I saw the need to begin to resolve all the disparate parts into one whole.

All had been broken, torn apart, scattered, lost. Fragments here and there showed from time to time, glimmering in the mud, in the buried stones and parts that were never easily visible at first glance. 

The Founder spoke to us all.

“We knew that at the outset, and sent you for this mission with the idea that you might return with as many of the fragments that you were able to carry. We know you have seen many of these before and perhaps not noticed them. I watched you wrestling with some of them, like pulling teeth – their roots so entrenched in the muck that you eventually had to leave them there, for the next perhaps stronger person to come along, with a similar mission.

“Okay lets face it now. Put all your parts on the table and we can make sense of them, if not one at a time then as a component of an even greater whole.”

The centre table became a sort of makeshift altar. First we placed our own unique items in the center. It was there that they dissolved as they called up to the light, creating a beam that shone from above, as if it were taking them into the core of a higher sun. And it took our hearts with it.

In this way we lost our hearts. But our eyes shone brighter than ever before. A clarity came over us, and our blazing glances showed us something we had intuited but never experienced before. As we glanced, we projected.

Now I had thought that the result of our work would be something else. I had imagined a projection from above, shining down to the centre then spilling over onto us, and a cascade waterfall of divinized objects spinning and revolving in the beauty and energy of this glorious projection. It was a lovely thought, and it could have happened, but something else was to be, something closer to each of us. Even the Founder was in a state of total amazement, no longer coordinating but participating just as we were.

The dance of the glance, I called it. Lines of light formed between us. As we sat on the periphery of the circle, we saw one another, and each glance was a beam of light. These light beams were persistent and did not fade. Our glances moved across the table, beside to one another and upward to the highest centre above the table.

After the energies activated for a time, the table moved slightly, from side to side, then up, then down, then suddenly shuddering. Flowering from the centre, over and over again in a fountain of geometric brilliance, finely articulated light forms filled the space to become a half sphere bounded by the full circumference of the table. Did it turn to show its lower half, already formed? Did it rise to show itself as a full flowering sphere of light? I was already flowing in bliss and saw only the sphere in full, turning and perfect, for it was our world. Our own great world, the sphere of all being. We around the circle were projecting it in its perfection and it was fully alive, functioning as a living being. 

How can we be part of it and outside it both at once? This is the paradox. It is so because we are remembering. Time is a factor here. but also we flow in time to the timeless centre. Here we see in full that which is whole and true. No dissolution, only the rising up into a greater fullness, and fuller wholeness, a being of wider capacity. And with each rising, the capacity expands and time recedes, until the time barrier is broken through. All the divine players show themselves simultaneously in procession in their bodies and beyond all that can be known or seen.

Here it is then. All the parts return to the whole in this way. They are rejoined and restored through their own transcendence. First embraced into the great whole of all that is being, the one whole animal of life itself. Then into their own restoration as a function of their full participation in this great whole.  And at the point of that restoration, they emit the light waves that renew and restore all. Below, there is a quiet shudder or recognition, a renewal on all levels.

The Good showers loving beneficence through the waves and levels of being down to the base of all – to the place of nothing that is calling for emergence by the very fact of its non-being. “Bring life to me, let me live too,” is the unheard cry. 

The wounding and harming all come from this deep cry of the lost part, for when the fragments hit bottom, they are broken even further. There is no emergence. The roots that hold the shards are here, and entwining together with the roots of other fragments, empty shells and dark formless stuff, they are strengthened in their immobility and resistance to all the beneficence continually showering light rays into the depth of their substrate.

Yet by some loosening miracle, a ray can penetrate and release from the depth one or two of these pearls, which immediately rise upward to the surface, and they are caught in the hands of laughing children, who joyfully carry them home to their mother. She takes each one carefully and lovingly wraps it in white cloth, to offer it at the village temple. There it is unwrapped in ceremony, purified and added to the altarpiece where it shines with an unearthly glow. It is more beautiful than its carved setting, for it has been retreived from the dark. 

Or so I imagined, in the bliss of the vision. That relation of the bottom of the depth and emergence of the pearls is yet to be truly known.

By this time our physical eyes had closed, as we took into our inner eyes the meaning and brilliant light-sustenance we had shared together. Each of us stayed in the vision of bliss until the Founder ended the session.