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DESCENT


First, I descended into Hell.

I had been wrestling my alter-ego, a nasty little psychopath who, save for the darker features and manner, resembles me in every way.
He often rules in the space to my left, or just over my shoulder. But, I have seen them often enough face to face (for there are more than one - an endless supply).

In strength and resolve, we are precisely matched - as though right and left arm had suddenly become adversary.
But, whether to call on reserve, or pin all hopes to strategy, is of no consequence to the outcome. We both draw inspiration at the same well, and whatever quarter given is so quickly retaken that neither can prevail.
In the end, it is not that defeat was forestalled, or victory deserved, but that sheer exhaustion should be so heavy a toll.

At the moment, he has me pinned, firmly, both arms wrapped around in a smothering clinch.
I bite down, hard, on his hand, the floor slides away ...dragging us ...in the grip of inviolable forces, skidding to the edge of the loft... teetering... and we both go over, locked together...

...Plummeting, down ...into a contracting tube-like space, ...sucking us through, ...spinning and gyrating...

Until, I am suspended, alone ...slowly revolving within the cavernous, hot, red space of Hell.
I can feel the evil ...and punishment, radiating up from below. There is a sinking emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

I am ...weak and afraid. Do they ...want me?

And, then, I 'wake', back on solid ground ...still wrestling my alter-ego.
A manicured, public lawn rolls in twilight beneath us.

It is now that I recall ...a warning - a memory from a non-existent past, or the past of this world - of just such an encounter with my alter ego.
So, here ...is a prophecy fulfilled!

Such a thing does not strike me as unusual, however. This place is built upon such ordinary notions.
For, I have been transported to a world of allegory.

_____________________________

Here, one struggles, not for preservation of the body, but of the spirit.

The quality of Virtue, for example, will become a sword, placed in the hand of the Warrior. As a spell to the Enchantress. ...A lantern ..to the Lost.
Or, Pandemonium, trading in commotion and quandary, may deliver not only Deeds and Words, but ...an unscaleable Wall, perhaps a perilous Maze, or black, morphiated Slumber - to waylay, confound or bewilder their foe - be they Seeker, or Sage ...whether strong, or credulous, forthright or wary.


...So, a Chill Wind from nowhere, may be more than just the Cold. As a Change of Heart, at first a darkening fire, becomes suddenly ...rain.
...To know where the Pages are missing, yet not to know why. Or, to see through Misfortune, and glimpse, in the gutter, a reflection of Sky...


All that we put down to random destiny - the chance encounters, and arrangements, the struggles and reflection, desire and estrangements - these are the tides and correspondence, borders and windows to the world - of which the soul is citizen - finally clothed in the raiment of the living, and raised, to the standing of objects - to delight the senses, seduce the addictions, or extend a hand to the attainable.


_______________________________________________________

Here, I have friends. We share a bond of trust, which has drawn us together, and my safe return from tribulation - the Dante-esque confrontations with Hell, and my alter-ego - is welcomed, with the same rejoicing as it would be for any of us.
For the time being, the hordes of deception and treachery have gone into hiding, elsewhere.

We decide to gather at 'The Haven' - the safe home of three in our group - being our most common ground, and which we recently declared the natural power centre for our association.
One of the residents - a girl, called "Try" within the group - has become a close friend. And, for a while, we sit privately to talk of my encounters with an alter-ego -- from what she tells me, they were all, on this occasion, witness to the episode, and offers to shed what light she can.

It seems that my experiences of an indomitable adversary, appear to the onlooker as nothing more than me, fighting with ...myself. Or an ...imagined foe.
In which case, the struggle may simply represent conflicting, or contradictory, elements of myself, fighting for dominance.
Perhaps, neither entity is aware of the other, the illusion of combatants merely a tangible form for something that would otherwise go unnoticed.

Such were her insights. And, the perspective thus gained, through her eyes, is very much fruit borne of our relationship, and which I stand to reap in future encounters ...with myself.

_____________________________

Later - Try had left the room and I was alone - there is an incident, suggesting that sinister influences had begun to regather.

An apparition - in the form of a rather macabre, disembodied skull - had hovered outside the window, and spoken to me.
Whatever the words uttered, I was not quite able to hear - for, they were carried off into the darkness.
Yet, I could not rid myself of a peculiar notion -- that they had expressed ...something I knew I did not understand.
Something, for me, out of reach. A disconcerting glimpse into a vast unknown - where existed concepts for which I had no symbols.

The wraith had then floated away. I called out to the others, but by the time they arrived, it was gone.
I was, therefore, sole witness to the incident. Yet, the apparition had so artfully delayed its escape, that it seemed one of them might have caught at least a momentary glimpse, before it disappeared from sight.
But, I knew that was not the case, as did we all. This was the telltale sign of an old and futile game - one we had played before.

It is not uncommon for the 'legions of despair' to devise the most improbable affairs, or carefully arrange for participants to experience conflicting versions - so causing their accounts to be inconsistent - in the hope of nurturing divisions between them. Or, as the case here, because they have ensured only one witness.

So, the hapless victim, asking again and again, "...didn't you see it? ...you must have seen it!..." is systematically isolated from the rest of the group, who now, of course, appear aloof and conciliatory, forced to reply, awkwardly, "...no, ..but I'm sure you saw ..something..." or, "...what did you say it was, ..again...?", and so on, with utterly no hope of reconciliation.
Not only that, but the lone witness quickly realizes they can share this with no one - there is no one - and as small as the burden may be, that they must live henceforth with a lonely and meaningless secret.

They have inadvertently stumbled into a room ...and the door has blown shut behind them.
But, it is a room that no-one else will ever enter - to those outside it simply does not exist - and its sole occupant has inherited troublesome lodgings.

For the authors of such follies, keeping their activities elusive, or peripheral, does nothing at all to lessen their mischief. If anything, they prefer such opportunities, which carry the seeds of conflict for the least of their efforts.
A little ill-will, over something trifling - to nag away in the background, or crop up later, like a piece of gossip arrived at its final destination - is, for them, a victory over the smooth operations of common order.

A plain 'fact', on the contrary - however malignant or scandalous - when clearly seen by all, is unlikely to be a bone of contention, or subject to misrepresentation.
It becomes, simply, a form of Truth - which, however hard to swallow, is a bitter taste enjoyed by all.
Mistrust, suspicion and resentment (the triumvirate of discord and strife), unlike the virtues born of truth, cannot survive in the open ...and so crumble away.

_____________________________

But, for every trap found, or avoided, countless others are set. And, to be ceaselessly vigilant will only sacrifice peace of mind.
One need only seek ...Balance - that which exists neither at the centre, nor to the edges - for when the feet are in danger of stumbling, it is the arms which must be stretched wider.
So, we find Accord ...through Poise, Equanimity ...and Harmony.


And where, from the shadows of harm and misfortune that spring forth - as a cold draught, or sudden descending gloom - lies a refuge, for the eternal, yet fragile, inner state of clarity ...and grace.

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