I wake. The air is cold. I shiver and pull a threadbare woollen blanket around me. I am restless. Some compulsion prevents me from sleeping. I stand up and recall the shelter in which I rested. A barren place. At my feet I gaze at desert sand. My feet are bare. The sand is dull and brown. There is no breeze. Ahead of me a single leafless tree stands. Two branches grow from its trunk. Their pattern is almost symmetrical. My gaze rests on the tree. The compulsion builds. Its image has me mesmerised. It becomes my focus. My form becomes elastic and I begin to shrink in size. The tree appears now massive to my gaze. Smaller I become. Smaller. Until I am tiny like an ant. Towards the tree I wander, transfixed. I am not alone. Toward the tree travels a column of ink black ants. As one we wander through the roots of the tree. We travel onto the trunk and upwards. Along the bough I travel. Still transfixed my gaze notes the ridges and the ferrules of the bark. My feet feel the vibrant energy of the tree. I feel energised. I feel electric. I become part of the tree. I am now one with the tree.The vision fades.
I waken and resume my seat at the table. The elder with the kindly face sits opposite me. "How was your introduction to the tree, my child?" He asks. I smile and remain silent. It is not my time to speak.
For me it was a special time, I recall. I'd been snatched away from scepticism and cynicism and introduced to the way before I was old enough to formulate a false opinion. I knew then I'd been saved. My visits to the elders were rare at first. I felt foolish in their company. Mortal and unwise. But gradually my visits happened more and more. I was intrigued by the stories of the one; of our separation; of our fall from grace. I was curious and intrigued. I had to know more.
I was assigned my own personal tutor and taught basic breathing techniques at first. I found it hard to clear my mind; to welcome nothingness. Once I closed my eyes, all order of things would cross my mind and gain control. I was unable at first to concentrate. Then as I perfected the simple techniques I began to grasp what my tutor was trying to say. He thus began with the simple visualisations to introduce me to their ways. I felt then I was happy and I had arrived at the right place. Later I would learn I had no choice in the matter.
Extract taken from 'The Chronicles Of Ezra' by Matthew James
