The Illuminex facility did a lot of business with VidTech, but their office was over forty minutes away by train. Nevertheless, Colister found himself riding through the skyscraper-sized piles of garbage and over fetid swamps of industrial run-off so he could take advantage of the deal. Eventually he arrived at a shimmer spire of glass and steel.
“Welcome to Illuminex: A Spiritual Organization.” The automated receptionist cooed. “Please insert ticket to continue.”
Highly monitored, the government couldn’t allow just anyone to have a spiritual experience, but for those positioned highly in society, the mundane realities of day-to-day life could be overlayed by incredible new metaphysical experiences.
Colister inserted his ticket. A door slid open, and he walked inside.
“Welcome back, Colister Ferelli. Would you like to hear the instructions again?”
“No.” He answered. “I don’t have time for a long one… Maybe half an hour or so?”
“Would you like to select the intensity level now, or opt instead for neural feedback monitoring?”
“Intensity level: High.” He stated. Neural feedback monitoring always shut off too early.
“Understood. Beginning Spiritual Experience.”
A series of hypnotic lights and sounds began pulsing through the room as a strange gas filled his lungs. He coughed and staggered for a moment, then quickly sat on the floor.
He closed his eyes to try and escape the light, but it was far too bright and permeated through his lids. The sound, now heavily laden with a base so low he almost felt it rather than heard it, vibrated every molecule of his body.
He wanted to bring his hands up over his eyes or ears, but he realized he couldn’t move them.
He began to panic.
Why had he come here!?
Because the company offers these sessions as part of their insurance package.
But why had he taken them up on it?
Because he felt unhappy
Everyone feels unhappy
Why is that?
Mountains of trash, crippling poverty, no time to do anything, pollution, plague, climate-
-You need to take time to focus more on your place in it all.
I know my place. I’m a document administrator for a water company.
That’s not you. That’s a position. You were once too young to occupy that position, and will one day be too old. When that occurs, what will you be then?
Nothing.
Then let’s begin there.
Back and forth Colister’s internal monolog continued to pull him through new avenues of realization.
He saw his extended family… His EXTENDED family, going all the way back to before the Neanderthals died out. He saw himself as a tiny bud on an impossibly large and fruitful tree. He saw battles in the African Savannah. He saw tribes caking their faces with paint. He saw their stories. He saw their beliefs. He felt them. He carried them across the Atlantic in his heart. They were still there while his ancestors worked the cotton fields. The Civil Rights… Working up from poverty… His birth… School… College… His first job… Working his way up… There was no such thing as separation; it all flowed together.
The same river.
The past. The present. The future.
Sure, things were a bit turbulent in the present, but turbulence couldn’t last forever.
Things would be okay. Life? Death?
The same river.
…
By the time the lights and sound died away, Colister found himself lying splayed on the floor with tears dripping down his face.
He sat up and did his best to smooth out his appearance, but it felt superficial. Neat and tidy, rough and flustered… Naught but pebbles in rushing rapids.
He left the facility and got back on the train. A homeless man began vomiting in the floor. Droplets splattered up and landed on Colister’s shoes and pants.
“Sorry brother.” The man coughed.
Colister simply smiled. The man was going through his own turbulent section of the river, but even his rough times wouldn’t last forever.
“No worries.” Colister smiled. The spiritual truths he housed were something few could afford.