What is Hidden? I like the table metaphor. I’ll just type now and see what happens.
The room my table is in is dark but a warm light shines low over the table. The shadows are comforting. There is a feeling of safety in the room. It’s only us in here. Slowly, gently, one by one, some of us creep quietly forward to sit at the table. Two of us touch hands- we knew each other long ago. Eventually all the chairs are filled. Some of us still hide in the shadows, not yet ready to be part of the melding.
I cannot hear what is being said, just soft murmurings. There is more gentle, reassuring touch between some of those who are seated. A child slips from the shadows and sits on someone’s lap. A baby is rocked. A man stands close to the table, his tall staff shines with wisdom and strength. Now animals quietly appear. The room is crowded but not uncomfortably.
There is a pause. A feeling that all who are ready are here. I stop to breathe as my mind is wanting to step in, guessing at what will happen next, trying to prevent anxiety. I see a row of low, sturdy candles on the table and know I am to light them. As I do, more candles appear until there is a row of bright light meeting the glow from above. I can see faces more clearly now.The faces of so many of my lives, so many of my aspects in this life.
I sit at the table in the only vacant chair. I am one of the many. I belong.
I am here, I am with you all.