THEREBLOWING FUTUREWIND
I found myself kneeling on what resembled an edge of a cliff, in an almost palpable darkness, surrounding me like a soft, soothing fog. There was no time, no thoughts, no fear, no memories, no past, no feelings-just one eternal moment, me and myself, being fused in one indivisible whole, with darkness as its eerie envelope. I don’t know how long I stood there, but then a point of light appeared-as if far away, first twinkling surreptitiously, and then glowing steadily, white and warm, approaching me, infinitely distant and, yet, familiar. As it got closer, I was able to distinguish a female figure, all made of light, slender, with flowing hair, and with a sword in her right hand. As she approached, I recognized Carin, serene and softly smiling, floating in my direction.
“Carin, what is this place?” I asked.
“This is not a place, and I’m not Carin,” she answered.
“Who are you, then?”
“Do you trust me to kill you, Karl Otto?” Her voice was penetrating me deeply, sending ripples of image-emotions through my silent awareness, morphing into a whole world of who she was.
“Yes,” suddenly replied I. My whole being shook with the sweet terror of approaching solution of the mystery of us being here. “Do I have a choice?” I continued, but it was as if she said that-not I.
“Yes,” she answered, and that ‘yes’ was an echo of mine, reverberating between us: ever-spreading ripples, made of darkness.
“But, who are you?” I asked again.
“I am Divine Executioner,” she replied. This answer awakened me to the next phrase pouring out of my being:
“You’d killed me twice already-that all I have forgotten…” My voice was alien, splitting into a multitude of waves infused with feelings and lifetimes, all present, yet forgotten and long gone.
“See, Karl Otto, you always remember me…” Her right hand with the sword made a wide, gracefully flowing circle up and around her head, coming down across my neck, but I did not feel anything, yet my head was severed and gone, somewhere there, in some other place or time.
“I always remember,” said I, and watched the sword making yet another circle, this time coming straight down and parting my trunk in half…
…I entered the hall and saw Kwang Hu sitting with her eyes closed, and, as I approached, she said:
“Hwarang Mu, the dragonfly told you the whole story-what else is there for us to do…”
“Master, I know, it’s time, but still, my soul is crying.”
“Dear Mu, we have completed one more circle: this time I will go first.”
“Will we ever meet again, Master Kwang?”
“I don’t think so, but who is there to tell?”
“But then, how would I be able to repay my debt to you?”
“You are free of any debt, Hwarang. You are forever free…”
“Yes, Master, but still, I made my choice.”
“So you want to pay and play again?”
“If that is what you would allow to happen.”
“Allright then, Hwarang Mu… We will reincarnate again-you and I… And in your next lifetime-time after time from then on-you will awaken first. And it will be your task to find me and remind me who I am.”
“But how will I be ever able to find you, Master?”
“That’s up to you-that was your choice… to play… You see, you never needed a teacher, Hwarang. You needed someone to create a puzzle that would be so much more interesting than your own, that one day you would laugh at them both and realize that they are simply illusions… So, now you have your new puzzle, but you will forget about this conversation forever, and will remember it only if and when we meet again.”
“But Master…”
I suddenly stopped, realizing that Master was not with me anymore. Her body sat motionless, its eyes closed as before, and in a ringing stillness of the evening air, the entire Golden Temple shook to its foundation, pierced by the thunderbolt of her departure.
Hwarang Mu was eleven years old at the time his mother, Kwang Hu, died.
“Carin, what is this place?” I asked.
“This is not a place, and I’m not Carin,” she answered.
“Who are you, then?”
“Do you trust me to kill you, Karl Otto?” Her voice was penetrating me deeply, sending ripples of image-emotions through my silent awareness, morphing into a whole world of who she was.
“Yes,” suddenly replied I. My whole being shook with the sweet terror of approaching solution of the mystery of us being here. “Do I have a choice?” I continued, but it was as if she said that-not I.
“Yes,” she answered, and that ‘yes’ was an echo of mine, reverberating between us: ever-spreading ripples, made of darkness.
“But, who are you?” I asked again.
“I am Divine Executioner,” she replied. This answer awakened me to the next phrase pouring out of my being:
“You’d killed me twice already-that all I have forgotten…” My voice was alien, splitting into a multitude of waves infused with feelings and lifetimes, all present, yet forgotten and long gone.
“See, Karl Otto, you always remember me…” Her right hand with the sword made a wide, gracefully flowing circle up and around her head, coming down across my neck, but I did not feel anything, yet my head was severed and gone, somewhere there, in some other place or time.
“I always remember,” said I, and watched the sword making yet another circle, this time coming straight down and parting my trunk in half…
…I entered the hall and saw Kwang Hu sitting with her eyes closed, and, as I approached, she said:
“Hwarang Mu, the dragonfly told you the whole story-what else is there for us to do…”
“Master, I know, it’s time, but still, my soul is crying.”
“Dear Mu, we have completed one more circle: this time I will go first.”
“Will we ever meet again, Master Kwang?”
“I don’t think so, but who is there to tell?”
“But then, how would I be able to repay my debt to you?”
“You are free of any debt, Hwarang. You are forever free…”
“Yes, Master, but still, I made my choice.”
“So you want to pay and play again?”
“If that is what you would allow to happen.”
“Allright then, Hwarang Mu… We will reincarnate again-you and I… And in your next lifetime-time after time from then on-you will awaken first. And it will be your task to find me and remind me who I am.”
“But how will I be ever able to find you, Master?”
“That’s up to you-that was your choice… to play… You see, you never needed a teacher, Hwarang. You needed someone to create a puzzle that would be so much more interesting than your own, that one day you would laugh at them both and realize that they are simply illusions… So, now you have your new puzzle, but you will forget about this conversation forever, and will remember it only if and when we meet again.”
“But Master…”
I suddenly stopped, realizing that Master was not with me anymore. Her body sat motionless, its eyes closed as before, and in a ringing stillness of the evening air, the entire Golden Temple shook to its foundation, pierced by the thunderbolt of her departure.
Hwarang Mu was eleven years old at the time his mother, Kwang Hu, died.