Touching Essence

I walked on the street in our neighborhood, where I walk every day, but suddenly the street was not the same. i looked at myself, but the I was not the same either. A body walking with no name, history, tensions, or objectives, only a human-like shape and some vibratory energy in and around it.

i saw the bus that went by as if i looked from a high orbit. Saw it not that small but as a bright red/buttermilk fruit of the intelligence, competence, joy, and sorrow of all who worked on the matter to turn out to be bus-shape.

Whoever observed these surprising changes kept walking in a calm serenity mixed with rejoicing in touching something of essence without a concept of it. There was the presence of attention attending itself. It saw the human form who goes by, in some circles, as “Technoshaman” and held him in a kind of tender awareness.

All that lasted more than a fleeting moment. Technoshaman’s body accepted the gift and relaxed into it with breathing that became slightly deeper, slower, and more even.

The nameless, formless inner watcher kept accompanying him for the full length of the neighborhood block. Technoshaman welcomed it as a precious guest, knowing that from now on he could become it at any time.