I have a place to go in my mind during meditation, a subconscious world that I have added to for the past year. There is an entrance with a reflection pool and then a trail that takes me to a beautiful home, one which I designed, and to a beach, where I can walk on soft sand, and to a marina where the people I hold most dear in my past keep their boats and where their real energies linger strong enough for me to hear their encouragements and the discipline that I often deserve. Along the way to all that there is a farm, one that I have tilled and nourished with love poured from a hammered brass bucket. I’ve grown crops of confidence and persistence and awareness and love and many more attributes.

Today I stopped by to see the attendant there and have a salad, one that she decides I need at the moment I am there. The deck I meet her on was remodeled, though. The craftsmen from my Ego Town, a seaport village a little way off to the east, had built a tower for the deck. I passed through a courtyard with a waterfall and a pond then stepped into a copper walled hand-drawn elevator where I met my attendant. She had me pull the soft ropes until we reached the top of the tower, and we stepped out onto a new deck.

“We had to build up to see over your crops of confidence,” she told me. The crop had grown very tall and very full and went off on the horizon for as far as I could see. She made me a salad of love and gratitude and we sat to eat. After, we went back down to the courtyard. “Here’s a pebble,” she handed a clear one to me. “Who are you?” She asked. I dropped the pebble in and the ripples began. As they expanded the walls of the courtyard disappeared and the pebbles continued on to infinity. “Here,” she handed me another one, “What is your purpose?” That pebble created a ripple, and it too went on to infinity. And then she asked me, “What do you want?” and handed me another, which I dropped and watched ripple until I realized I would never see it end. “We are who we are, Chris.” She placed her hand on my heart and I felt I was me, not my role, not who others thought of me as, but just me. Just as we all are.

Chris Plante

June 26, 2019