The woman returned to the humble task of folding napkins.
“If I were my mother…”, said the woman, “…I’d be ironing them.”
The girl smiled, finishing up her biscuit and gently wiping her mouth with the linen napkin before setting it down on the table next to her plate. Her hands folded under her chin, and elbows on the table, she leaned forward. The woman took it as a sign to continue.
“Just because these truths, or bits of information are lost, doesn’t mean they’re gone for good, or inaccessible to us as humans. It just means that they’re more difficult to access.”
The woman picked up the pile of freshly laundered and folded white napkins and walked back into the kitchen. She placed them neatly in a drawer then returned to the table for the girl’s plate.
“Think of a black hole not as a bottomless pit of darkness, but as an opening in the material world.”, she said as she rinsed the plate and put it in the dishwasher.
“It sucks up light, information, and shoots it out into an alternate world on the other end of the black hole.” She said as she again wiped her hands on her apron and sat back down in her chair at the table.
“Like a hose.”, said the girl tentatively.
“Yes…”, smiled the woman, “…very much like a hose.” The girl was encouraged.
“Physically going there and retrieving the information is…”
“Impossible!”, interrupted the girl.
The woman winked, “Improbable.”
“However, we can access that world, and others, by tapping into the black hole within us, that is us.”, she said repeatedly pressing her hand over her heart in emphasis.
The girl’s brow wrinkled again. They woman laughed lovingly.
“Energy from the Earth rises up within us, spiraling its way up through our bodies, awakening sacred energies that have always existed within us, but that reason will not allow us to see. This energy travels up through a series of electrical pathways finally igniting our mind and opening our eyes to that which can not be see mechanically.”
The woman reached for the pitcher to pour herself a glass of tea.
“Reason…”, sighed the woman as she lifted the pitcher, “…is the enemy of the improbable, trying at every turn to defeat the delicate and fleeting world of possibility.”
The girl smiled. She liked the sound of that. It was true, of course, but she liked how the words sounded. Like something monks might chant in a lost language.
The girl leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “What about from above?”, said the girl with her eyes still closed, “What about from the heavens?”
Good, thought the woman. “Yes, the energy flows downward as well.” The girl smiled, pleased with herself.
“Energy…”, continued the woman, “…information, then flows freely from one dimension to the next, and the lost truths become accessible again. There are as many ways to accomplish this as there are souls on the planet. Some arrive through meditation, others prayer, even a shock to the system can be an awakening of energies. …some unique souls never lost the truths. The soft spot on their head never hardened fully, blocking out the flow.”
The girl opened her eyes. “Really?”
The girl raised a disapproving eyebrow at the woman and leaned back in her chair again closing her eyes. The woman laughed…as did the girl.