Stage V

Imagination

Freedom

Last week I was in a virtual classroom administering an exam. I was lazily sitting on my academically tailored throne, staring at the ceiling, just letting time run its unavoidably fateful course, when I unexpectedly blinked my eyes and instantly found myself standing in the midst of a vast, flawlessly green meadow. I could sense the scalding aliveness below my bare feet. I could smell the pleasantly intoxicating odor of mature summer grass, slowly baked by the best of solar intentions. 

I looked up at the vibrant deep-blue sky. Not a single cloud. I listened. Not a single sound. Eternal, pervasive AUM spread its subtle wings, submerging the entire scenery in its awesome power. An unusually gentle breeze caressed the flickering outer reaches of my soul. Around me—all around me—monumentally stunning ridges intermittently boasted uncontrollable volatility in flamingly enraged volcanic peaks. 

Suddenly I felt a spirited jolt. As my body flared in combustible brilliance, I instantly knew I had to remove all my clothes, including my heavily structured carnal burden, there and then. Completely and invigoratingly naked, buoyant as a peppery heat wave briskly giggling its way toward open air, I instinctively started running, and eventually simply lifted off the ground like a dazzling skillful loon taking hurried flight from placidly clear lake waters. 

I consciously flew up toward the vivid heavens. I shrewdly glided down from impossibly far-flung altitudes. I twisted. I turned. I sparkled. I shimmered. I was positively and emphatically free! I felt the genuinely radiant quintessence of my true nature projected onto that unimaginably pulchritudinous setting. In utter immunity, I ardently celebrated as the pleasantly reassuring bursting heat of the bright afternoon sun thoroughly invigorated my luminously devout being.

Flying way beyond the intricately weaved anatomy of the sacred grasslands, I was able to distinguish a valley within which were sparsely anchored human settlements. Coming a tiny bit closer (still at a safely guarded distance) I could see carefully handcrafted ranch dwellings with their caricatured red roofs and dense white smoke cheerfully rising up from piping-hot chimneys, as well as little fences, little trees, little animals, and little people—everything so conveniently august in its modesty. 

To my left, the astonishing vision of a seemingly interminable winding river, undoubtedly still sculpting geological history by way of a deep, narrow canyon and its newly formed, exuberantly dense forest. I tracked its on-and-off scintillating grooves all the way to the highest peak in the region, no doubt home of its perpetually flowing cradle. 

There I was, on a drunken laissez-faire spree. No impediments. No roadblocks. No discontinuation. Nothing could stop me. I was in full control. If I decided I wanted to live life in abundantly fiery unconditional love, there it was, for the taking. If I wished I had had more time to ask for humble forgiveness, every single sorrowful instant was given back to me. 

I felt like howling to the flame-bearing solar omnipresence. And I did. I felt like talking to myself. And I did. I felt like crying. And I did. I felt like laughing. And I did. I made thorough use of my effulgent freedom. 

Next, in a scorching eruption of euphoria, I spectacularly somersaulted in mid-air multiple times, and then spent the rest of the afternoon consumedly folding and unfolding my body in curiously unimaginable ways.

By five o’clock I had become conclusively conflagrant. I blazingly zoomed back to my enchanted meadow, landed softly on the sweet ground, and lay down in awe as early traces of igneous twilight slowly consumed formerly magisterial heliacal ubiquity. Bathing in amiable warmth, I closed my eyes and dozed off in candied bliss. 

When I woke up, the sun was nearly setting. Breathtaking lights delicately tinged the multicolored Western sky in anticipation of the majestic eventide, soon to embrace the land. Crickets had already begun their carefully synchronized evening serenade. I could also hear the occasional frog call preceding a soon-to-come full-blown symphony. I knew it was time to go. 

Expanded, renewed, unburdened, I put on my valle lacrimarumuniform and beamed toward daily consciousness. As I awoke in the virtual classroom, I immediately noticed that every single one of my students was gaping at me in utter and complete disbelief.

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