Colors ~ a pain conversation

Living colors

What is it like, to have died and yet be here among the living?

Do you remember a time when you felt the terrible cold? How you felt like you would never escape it? What if someone locked you in the cooler? You would surely freeze, at least never be warm again, wouldn’t you? What if you realized that, what would you do? Curl up and go to sleep, or fight it?

I’d fight, I guess... .

How? Would you never sleep? Or would you devise a way to survive somehow, even though you would not be able to be comfortable?

No, I guess if I were not too uncomfortable... I hadn’t really caught it that way before... .

That comes near it, I s’pose. Though, remember, please... try to think of when you could not laugh, you felt so bad.

Um... once, when I was very young... I remember my mother was scared. I was very sick. She tried to make me laugh...

And? Could you?

It was more like crying.

Ahh, now that is part of it. Do you care to know more?

Yes, I’ve wondered, watching you, now that I know about you... what is different, that is.

It’s OK, really. I do it too. We just gotta know, sometimes. OK, well... it is like seeing something you had once and did not appreciate it, so maybe you deserved to lose it. It was your fate, learn from it. It is your path, your way, what made you, most defined you and was your center.

NO! Really? Deserve it? What could make you feel that way?

Uh, it is what was meant for me, what I was supposed to do.

But why, what for?

Oh, I knew you would ask that one!

For you to learn from.

For me? Why are you... what would possibly be the benefit for you to suffer so? And for me to learn! Learn what?

Why you never laugh out loud.

What? What are you talking about? (laughing self defensively)

With me, you are so serious.

That’s absurd! Was that a joke?



Hello, it’s me in here...

Sorry, I was thinking about what you said... you mean for me to just laugh...?

WITH ME, yes.

I'm sorry I have been so serious with you lately. It's just that I hate to see you suffer so.

It's OK. There is great value in making you laugh.

For me, or for you?

Both! I may not roll on the floor, but it cracks the mask of pain.

Do you remember what it was like, before, I mean?

When I was a child, my mother bought me a new toy. It was bright and new. It was mine to do as I pleased with. It was given in love.
But my mother would clean out my toys when I was not there, getting rid of what she thought I did not need anymore. I still think of that toy... I catch myself wondering what it was... I can see part of it... almost smell it, feel it, but then it is gone.

I've always wanted to know about that day... .

You mean when I died? It's OK. I understand. We all wonder about that one.
It's painful, yes. But I think you should know ... you hear stories about the light, and that is true, but it is... well, like understanding suddenly something you had wondered about. Like being invisible.

Invisible? How?

I'm not sure, really... but the light was warm and I floated in it, swimming in the sound of colors -- it tasted like beautiful music!

Tasted?

Yes, it was love.

But you did not stay there?

No, they did CPR on me. I saw my bones sticking out, my blood mixing with gasoline. I felt the horror one woman felt... I could smell the fear. The sirens were awful.

You still were not you, were you?

No, but I was not in the light anymore.

What did you feel?

I experienced the chaos, but I was still beyond feeling... like flying a kite, but I had only string... it was attached to nothing.
Once, I dove too deep and almost blacked out. I slowly floated up and sucked in a breath. This was very much like that.

What did you notice first?

Well, it seemed like hours, days even... I remember a flood once, it covered everything in permeating grey silt. Everything was very, very dark after the light. One dimensional. Walking through that mud, my feet got heavier with each step... with each layer of consciousness...

It got heavier?

I WAS MAD! It was all very crushing... my life was flowing out of me. I was very cold. The pain was terrible. I started shaking and jerking. They cut my clothes off me and strapped me to a back board. Eyes, so many eyes! I could not take what they contained!

What was that?

How you look at me, sometimes.

And how is that?

Have you ever seen the wind?

Is this another life lesson for me? No, I suppose I haven’t. Although you can see the effects of the wind.

Right! The tree bends in the wind.

Or it breaks.

Yes, you cannot see another’s pain.

But what IS it in how I look at you?

You.

Me? I see me in you?

Yes, you realize it could be you. You fear that, hate it desperately. You pity me.

I’m sorry... how did you realize that?

Have you seen a new color?

No, all that can be seen, is seen.

Not necessarily.

So, you see the wind...a new color. See something I do not?

Yes, the image in the mirror does not show it.

But the mirror image would show self. I thought this was about how I see you!

It is. I have seen a new color.

This new color, when... how do you see it?

It is when you look at me and try to understand.

So, what IS this new color?

Death.

But you are alive!

Am I living, or am I dying?

That all depends on how you see it.

Exactly!