The objects in her hand

The objects in her hand were only scribbles or doodles from her imagination. They appeared to have substance, solidity but they didn’t make any cognitive sense. She kept them a secret and only allowed a play with them when no one else was around. They delighted her and were a link to a world that only existed in the furthest reaches of the universal mind – a place that existed deep in the heart of the heart of each mind. All bodies existed in the universal mind and the universal existed for her. She had a plan and like the scribbles or doodles she held in her hand; her plan was sheer imagination. Her imagination was vast and was the counter-point for universal mind. None of this will make sense but her plan nonetheless was a noble one. She knew what she was doing and that it all was working out quite splendidly. She saw no need for worry or complaining. Everyone would come to their senses; their universal sense in the end. Of course, there is no end, really, all there can be is an abrupt recognition of imagination. Now, don’t imagine this end of imagination or recognition of what imagination is imagining, just begin. Begin with your instinct to see what there is to see, look at her hands.

At first, if you look hard enough, you can see her hands pulsing, vibrating with the light of life. Your own hands tingle like hers. Now, with frowning brow you notice lines emanating from and above and around her hands. Lines are dancing, and yes, (yes!) you can see them quite clearly. You are dumbfounded, what is this? What is she doing?

When she notices you; noticing her hands, she stops her play and folds those magical hands and places them on her lap. She smiles at you and acts so normal – like nothing as wonderful as her play with her hands had ever happened. This causes you to forget what you knew you saw. You see a woman smiling at you and you naturally smile back and wonder why she is smiling at you in the first place.