The White Ball - Tall Tales

I

Deep in the Kalypso gorge a giant turtle guides her to the white ball hovering just above ground. Even in the deep fog the ball pulsates with hypnotic chatoyance. The turtle nods gently as she feels the ball's presence invade her senses. The ball lowers its tap root to the soil. When the tip touches she tingles within an edge of deeper connection. A presence of passion, open and anticipating. Instinctually she tells the ball "go deeper". The tap root sinks in and wanders through the voids and softer spaces, growing and seeking.

Before the white ball there was a big empty space. A nebulous wasteland of doldrums and daydreams.

She can sense a piece of glass just beyond the next nook and cranny. She could settle here and tap the glass gently, but the tap root is caught in an eddy, with only the smallest spot to stretch and winnow its next step. She doesn't have her voice yet - only sensations of pulse and desire. She's seeking a fiery liminality. The freaky outside fantasy spectacular. She wills the tap root to catch its outer bands, step sideways, grab and direct them inward. A communication through light and vibration and being.

The frequency between the ball and her is resolving in a trembling anxious mess. This tuning to one another is always the hard part . The ultimate surrender of emptiness to a fullness that is less serious, stern, and put upon.

The opening in the eddy is bursting at the seams. The tap root squiggles spasmodically in the chaos of the outside seeking in. The outwards fleeing the white ball's misdirection. Anxiousness both ways. The white ball glows with heat as she melds everything slowly together. Her and it together guiding a smoothing motion into being. A warm rock on a day full of sunshine and heaviness.

The white ball/her is levitating beneath the roiling coil of the universe of things as one. The flow outwards in antithetical to the serious expanding of their capacity to take notice. The tapping and merriment of gilds and shards of mirth. The tingle of unstuck. They expand outward together completely now cackling into the wilder deeper. It feels like a whisky bottle with the power of alchemizing starlight to tears, both right and wrong. One simple thing. One difficult thing. Both breaking rules to exist as one, now and forever.

When you create your key to unlock everything - you must first sidestep onto a path that wasn't there, and wasn't needed in the first place.

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Jamie Larson
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