The Yellow Door - By Tom Brady

After a tiresome and repetitive journey around the spare rooms in my head, my meditation session finally took me somewhere more interesting. I wound up cutting through cobwebs until I reached a pale-yellow door in what felt like the back, right side of my brain, an area specialized in something, but I can’t remember what. 

As this was all a meditation experience, I had nothing to lose by exploring what was on the other side of the door, but there was no handle, latch, or lever where one would expect to see one, and pushing on the door, even kicking it, only caused it to bulge out then spring back into its original shape, but with a small green spot low on the door. Each time I pushed against the door it bulged and the spot moved in a random motion and grew slightly larger. 

This contest continued for as long as I let it, maintained by my curiosity about getting past the brain-door and the meaning of its roving, green spot, which, incidentally, changed shape each time it moved. I knew that I was running out of time as I felt myself about mid-way through my 20-minute meditation. I let the meditative process decide what to do next, and the yellow door began to fade and lose importance. I began to turn away and said good-by to the door by touching the now hexagon-shaped green place, which was in the upper left corner. When I did, the door showed a crack of blue light, but on the bottom, not a side where I would have expected it. 

I knelt and slipped my fingers under the door, which I could not feel, as it seemed to be a creation of light with no physical characteristics discernable to touch. Yet when I raised my palm, now under the yellow door, it began to lift, to open, so I slowly kept lifting and the yellow rolled upward being replaced with a soft gray-blue hue which did not bleed out toward me, but stayed behind where the door had been. I lifted until the door was no longer there at all, having seemed to evaporate into the spaces of my brain that were prepared for such an event. 

The pathway in meditation is neutral observation with a focus on the breath, so there was no thought to moving into the gray-blue, it just happened and there I was surrounded by it. It was like being in the densest fog, like not being anywhere, like this sure is a strange meditation. 

Something whizzed by and I had the impression that it was an atom or a star, which seemed crazy as one is miniscule and the other huge. “Wow,” I said to myself and the grey-blue sea now carrying me, bobbing along and toward unknown places and experiences answered back that I did see a star as well as an atom and that they are the same while being completely different. 

Who in this gray-blue sea is talking to me, I asked myself, and the sea responded, “Who would you like it to be?” 

“I don’t want it to be a who, I want it to be the unknown. I want to lose myself in the voice of the unknown.” 

“Ah,” replied gray blue. “Of course. This will take some time. As many years as you have left.” 

“What will be . . .” I started to say, when the soft chime of my meditation timer floated into gray-blue and gently reminded me that my other life was waiting. As always, I slowly opened my eyes to the sight of the world I had left 20 minutes ago. I paused for reflection. I wondered if I would ever again come across that yellow door and journey to back to gray-blue, and the just out of reach unknown.

1 comment

  • Silver Gladstar
    Silver Gladstar ptld
    Gosh, this story is actually quite fabulous. I am fascinated by your meditation. Is it a real thing or an invention for the story? In any case I loved it! Thanks!

    Gosh, this story is actually quite fabulous. I am fascinated by your meditation. Is it a real thing or an invention for the story? In any case I loved it! Thanks!

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