My mind didn’t actually feel like I was sleeping. Somehow being in my inner world was different. It all looked very real, but I knew it wasn’t.
The vibrant grass around me looked real, but when I focused solely on a blade of grass, I could see the essence. It was all essence. A thousand sparkling pieces of green dust floating, but not floating, in the shape of a blade of grass. With each brush of the grass I could feel my mind becoming more alert.
As I brushed my hand across the tops of the grass, some of the motes would flow up to greet my hand, but never leaving the border of the blade of grass. The colors would shift with the movement giving me an incredible view.
Some sections of the grass were as tall as me, and some were just the height of my feet. As I wandered through and over them, the blades would lean and follow my movement. The ones underneath my feet gently cushioned each step.
It’s not a dream, but it is probably as close to a living dream as anyone would come close to.
As I spin in place I begin to notice the other elements my unconscious mind has put in the landscape. Trees, as tall as a house, branch out over a small hillock of flowers. Each tree has a blindly white trunk that dims as it reaches out and forms limbs. Each limb fades from the white of the trunk to a subtle purple, and then, just before reaching the final portion of the trunk before the leaves, the tiny branches turn a vibrant purple. The leaves then take queues from this color shift, purple on top, and white underneath.
As I approach the hillock, the flowers begin to turn and face me. Each has a different color on the rainbow, and several that are only outlined in mist, with no color at all.
As I begin to step amongst the flowers, they part, or move…or maybe it’s both… and form a path to highest point. As I sit down, the flowers resume their previous positions and turn slightly upward…all except one. The nearest flower is a glowing gold. It reminds me of the bear’s eyes, but this almost seems purer in some fashion.
Once the flower completes its turn, it morphs back into essence and then into a tiny butterfly. The essence flows up from flower seeming to fill the butterfly, like a pitcher filling a glass of water. The effect is mesmerizing. I can’t take my eyes off the tiny butterfly. Each beat of its wings causes a small amount of essence to pulse out, and then return back to the beginning…like the wings are breathing golden essence.
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Holding out my hand, I gently say, “Hello, I am Harry.” The butterfly glides over and lands delicately on the tips of my fingers. The tiny legs tickling a bit.
“Hello, Harry.” It’s not a whisper, or gentle voice of a mother. No this voice can shatter glass, or a mountain, or maybe even my soul. Everything in my being shutters. The small hillock puffs up in essence with my unease, creating a multi-color cloud.
“Hmm, time. You will need time. We will talk further then.” On the last word, the absence of sound is as shattering as the voice itself. My breathing picks up speed as fear enters my heart. Just as I am about to stand up and run, the rumble of the mountain enters my space.
“Ease child. The voice of an essence can be difficult if you are not familiar with them. Breathe and relax. Here you are safe.”
As the bear’s voice fades, I take a large breath and try to make sense of this new world. The butterfly has…poured…itself back into the form of a flower. The cloud of multi-color essence has return to flowers and the small hillock begins to sway with my heart beat once again.
I have no idea what I am doing. I don’t think my sister ever mentioned an internal world, or talking essences. Does that imply I am not a Parity? Is this what Strongs deal with, is the mixing of this world and the real world the reason they go insane.
As I work through all this, the only thing I know for certain, is that seven year-olds are not suppose to deal with this alone. Pranking my brothers, I can do that. Split firewood and make kindling, I can do that. Clean dishes after dinner…well, I can do that, but my mom doesn’t like the results…kinda the same for doing laundry.
Working through all the things I can do, and all the things I can kinda do, and then all the things that I should do, but don’t…I am pretty sure talking to golden essences is not even on the list.
Holding out my hand again, I slowly rotate it left and right. Each turn stirs the tiny essences in the air, swirling them around my fingers. I watch as the essences almost play tag with my hand, slowly moving in, and then bursting away in a tiny streak of light. I begin to smile. This is not something I can do now…but it is kinda fun.
Deciding that talking with butterflies is a little beyond me, I go back to what I first accomplished when I entered this world…I look outside it.
The world outside myself is still too bright to see the actual world. So, instead of looking, I try to just feel the outside world again. After a few minutes, I can feel the light essence swirling around my body. I form the feeling of light and begin to pull the essence into myself.
Opening my eyes to the internal world, I can see the light essence pouring in through my body, flooding flowers with light, and then flowing down the hillock and into the field of grass. It moves like water in a fast moving stream.
Soon my focus on the feeling of light fades, and the essence flow trickles off. I feel exhilarated, but exhausted. I want to do it again, but my focus is wandering. I take one more look around my inner world and go back to sleep.