I Rise, I Fall

It is a moment of pure Zen, true transcendence. It is not something I plan, or expect, but it is not something I resist, either. One moment I am sitting in my personal, mobile zen-do, sitting zazen in meditation. The next I feel myself lifting off the ground and rising into the air.

I open my eyes, expecting a transcendental experience, my spirit having left my body behind. I look below me, and I see only the floor, receding as I rise more quickly. My body is nowhere is to be seen, which can mean only one thing.

I rise higher, blissful and peaceful as never before. Wisps of clouds waft past me, and yet I do not feel their dampness or the cold of the air as it thins out around me.

And then my body begins to dissolve, slowly at first then more quickly. It does not feel unpleasant. Rather, it seems merely like a natural, expected part of the process. My body diffuses into the clouds, becomes part of them. I am become the sky, and then I rain down on the world below me.

I have arrived, and it is joy.