An astronaut once told me that if I ascended four miles up, I would experience blissful weightlessness.
Today, I experienced an inverse universe, a world hidden under the oceans that descends four miles down, a world that covers two-thirds of our globe. There I was weightlessly tumbling, hearing only the One Sound of Haum which might be the only music that the fish have heard.
The current carried me to a frontier where aquamarine turned to a dark blue; and that’s where the canyons and mountains suddenly dropped into depths beyond a mile.
This society of the underworld, has withdrawn itself from ours. Down here, there is a Law of Oneness in peace with no racial prejudice; in fact there are more races and rainbows swimming than any earthling has ever seen. They all swim amongst each other, inter-weaving in and out of shared castles. They nibble on corals all day as if cuisine is a life-long meditation.
Here, there are no fights nor worries of a recession, just surrendered generosity flowing out of the certainty that the Whole will provide for its parts. Each part gives itself to another so that the Whole may survive–and all this sacrifice without any funerals and grief.
There are those dressed like tigers and others wearing mud; some are long as buses, and there is a school of shimmering minnows shaped like a spoon that a baby shark takes into her mouth.
A plump one dressed in an evening gown of violet and blue floats to my face, mouth opening and closing, obviously conversing, but without our Iphones, us humans can’t interpret a thing..
Off the pier, a Sri Lankan fisherman dips his chocolate toes into the sea; it is in this sea-salt that he was first baptized and today as the sun goes down, his fishing line hangs on the certainty that dinner is coming…