We move away from the world of the known, in a space of complete pitch black making a right turn, then a left, then another left, all the while tracing the wall so as not to lose our way. It is as if we’ve shifted into another dimension. Taking our places on benches that line the back wall, we sit in this zone of mystery. The darkness is palpable and sensation becomes heightened. Footfalls echo, I can hear someone breathing, then silence. In the darkness, there are none of the normal cues that reassure us we’re alive. There is just dark.
Not being able to sit in the experience of mystery is the existential equivalent of not holding your liquor. The young Japanese women next to me are barely keeping their heads above water. Instead of silently watching their minds at work, they continuously blurt out their terror.
Minutes add up. At least ten now…
The girls reach to one another for reassurance. Facing the mystery requires, at least temporarily, the severing of ties to the social world. It demands all your attention to examine what’s happening and tending to another becomes a distraction. In the end, we face the mystery alone.
Slowly, it begins to happen, the space begins to reveal its secret. The darkness begins to fade.
It’s faint at first, but eventually become palpable, even solid. Fear turns to wonder. A fine luminous mist permeates the air.
What was total darkness has shifted. A green otherworldly light now suffuses the space. As if on cue the once squealing girls stand in unison. Possessed by their fascination, reaching out toward the light they walk forward. The space is now quiet except for the echoes of their shoes.
From terror to wonder to disbelief, the faint light is now everywhere. It suffuses the entire space. It comes from nowhere and seems to stretch toward infinity. For people jaded by the electronic falsehoods of the modern world, this is Mystery’s final shot--the last silver bullet able to kill an urbanite’s cynicism.
The experience is wondrous.
I finally stand and make my way into the mist. I reach out to touch the untouchable. Light has become solid and I’m walking through it. It is so utterly fascinating that I sit and stare, giggling to myself. For whatever reason, tears start to well.
The original gaggle of squealing girls has left the room. I’m surprised when a new pack comes squealing in.
I sit dumbfounded for a moment, because the light is still there. They haven’t reset it! What’s going on?
The wheels turn. Wait. The new girls are squealing. I realize that to them it is dark. Then it starts to dawn on me. At some point I realize that I’m approaching this as if it's a movie—at first something isn’t happening, a switch is flipped, then something happens.
I start to wonder, what if nothing is happening? There isn’t anything out there that is changing, but it’s me that’s changing? I start giggling out loud. I’m sure the girls think there’s a perv in the room with them.
I get up and leave. Inquiring to the attendant, he confirms my thought.
The light is there a steady 24 hours a day. The room never changes objectively. The transformation that happens is the one inside you. You change. Because you are willing to endure the darkness, you are able to witness the light.
To the dismay of the attendant, I return five times that day.
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