All in all, you experience the flow of the hallway. What is the hallway? It is a place where you arrive because the doors of regular, ordinary living, are closed and you find yourself in that long space where there is a straight path, a flickering light on the ceiling, and many steps to walk, looking to see if any door opens, if there is a chance to enter. Again! But none opens. You don't have keys or your hands don't obey the command to grasp and turn.
You're not totally outside, you're not inside either. You're in the hallway, that in-between space where things can get extensively uncomfortable like a puncture welt or the unquenchable itch on your skin. In the hallway, you encounter waiting and anxiety, sometimes also lurking the weighty sins of the past. Of course, the logic is just to stay in a present. But it's boring, unbearable. And so you have to adapt to the situation in the hallway, which asks you, but you don't give.
And you keep walking around looking for some door to return to regular, ordinary life. But after a while, you realize that you can't get into anything, but you can't get out either. You are still in the hallway. And you walk, sometimes you sit, and often you sleep for a few hours because you can't sleep very peacefully and placidly in the hallway either. You wake up after hours of dreaming.
Your nervous system at times goes into compulsion, your breathing seems to stop because of some obstruction, and although it can be called a crisis, as you are alone and without the possibility of listening, you try to bring the focus of your attention to other elements of the hallway, hoping that it is not something that lasts long, or if perhaps it happens to last long this vacuum of vitality and free fall, suddenly you end up leaving the hallway. Expelled.
The usual course of events in the hallway is monotonous and should serve to strengthen you, but honestly, it's a kind of defeat in the face of futile time. Your body deteriorates from weight loss, your emotions simmer and your secretions become chaotic at times.
The flow of the hallway is waiting. It's a lot of selling hope, but knowing you have no recourse. In the end, you just go on and believe that maybe the open door will appear again, or that chance shot will come up where a lot of spiritual bills will appear.
The flow of the hallway is incomprehensible, but in the relationship you establish with the hallway, you begin to feel a light of understanding. Which has nothing to do with language, but with renunciation. You renounce a lot, and there you can see that those who put the lights in the hallway are not electricians, they are doctors and they do as they want, when they want, with whom they want. As I said, it's incomprehensible.
