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Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

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SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING<br />

to the repetitive beat and he would have a seizure. The pounding and<br />

chanting had become a communal heartbeat.<br />

With a single last bang of the bronze drum, all the souls in No<br />

Name Place were jolted out of their bodies, my friends’ souls, too.<br />

Were they dead? Had they been shot? They did not feel wounded.<br />

They felt bigger and lighter. They seemed to see themselves, not their<br />

physical bodies, but their own thoughts and truths, as if there were a<br />

mind mirror that could reflect such things. They all had those mir­<br />

rors. Now that they were outside their bodies, they could hear with­<br />

out the distortions of ears, speak without the tangle of tongues, see<br />

without the blinders of experience. They were open portals to many<br />

minds, and the minds flew into the soul, and the soul was contained<br />

in the minds of everyone. They knew this was not normal, and yet it<br />

was natural. They struggled for words to describe what they felt,<br />

that they were every thought they had ever had and those of others,<br />

an open repository containing bright particles and endless strands,<br />

microscopic stars and infinite trajectories, endless constellations that<br />

were holograms within holograms within themselves, the invisible as<br />

visible, the impossible as obvious, the greatest knowledge now ef­<br />

fortlessly known, and the greatest knowledge was love. Just love.<br />

And I knew this, too.<br />

“Amen,” Loot said.<br />

With another jolt, my friends instantly returned to their separate<br />

bodies, separate minds, separate hearts, leaving them one among<br />

many and no longer many in one. They looked around, at one an­<br />

other, at Loot and Bootie, waiting to see if the sensation would burst<br />

through again. But the experience began to fade as dreams do, de­<br />

spite their trying to resurrect it or grasp at it as if at motes of dust.<br />

They had their senses back, yet never had they felt less sensible.<br />

The light <strong>from</strong> the television flickered. They walked over and sat<br />

on the rattan and bamboo stools, waiting for the morning news <strong>from</strong><br />

New York. Among themselves they slowly began to talk. Had they<br />

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