Portals

There is a giant black hole in the center of our galaxy. Itʼs the thing that keeps us in a spiral, swinging from eagerly wanting to jump in like itʼs a waterslide, while also feeling the weight of our own existence. More than a billion lightyears ago, a collision of two such black holes sent out invisible waves headed right toward our terrestrial planet. They were so powerful, they rippled spacetime.

There is an opening ahead of me. Itʼs dark, I canʼt fully see what it is. I keep walking toward it, curious, knowing that there is something there. Along the way, there are so many other thresholds I cross, unaware of how many until I look back and see infinity.

I turn around, and the threshold is gone. I look back – did I walk through it already? Itʼs not there, either, and the rest of them are gone, too.

My head spins around, up and down, frantically searching for this portal. It was too important; I needed to get through that. Where did it go? I have to find it again.

I begin to run, then slow to a walk, and start to change directions. But I canʼt tell which direction is which. Disoriented, I close my eyes, and feel for the ripples. Which direction are they coming from?

The answer is every direction. They bounce into each other throughout me, so that direction is completely obliterated and all I can feel is the gentle wave created within. I feel nauseous. I search for my feet, the back of my knees, my inner thigh. I sense tingles in the middle of the palm of my hand, and the crook of my elbow. The middle of my ribcage reverberates, and reaches the top of my spine. My cheekbones soften, and my ears open.

There are small, previously imperceptible portals positioned everywhere in my body. I learn that I can control them, somewhat. I can open and close them, and most of them have been closed and blocked by debris. I slowly open them as the frequencies reach them, clearing out debris, following the paths of colorful shapes and sparkling flecks that are sucked through and fall to other places. They produce both an intense heat and a chilling freeze as they open.

I stay, unmoving, and find that I am hurtling through everything, everywhere, all at once. The wind is fast, but also gentle, the temperatures change, my body turns from grains of sand to slimy blob, liquidating and solidifying, feeling like both cacti and moss, air and fire.

I see a light through my closed eyelids. Itʼs getting brighter, so I know that I am getting closer to it. I am not afraid, and soon the bright white light is all around me.

It feels like everything and nothing. It feels like someone is hugging every single atom of my body. It feels like a cool breeze on a hot day. It feels like a smile exchanged with a stranger. It feels like a snuggle with my children. It feels like crying with a neighbor. It feels like finishing a project I put so much work into and now get to enjoy it. Drinking the first sip of the best coffee. Catching a glance of acknowledgement and appreciation. Digging in rich soil. Swinging at a park. Climbing a mountain. A hand raked in my hair with a slow kiss. Watching fire flicker and water undulate. Feeling the moon, and the edges of stars.

The enchantment waves and wanes.

After a while, I open my eyes. And realize that the portal was me all along.