We, within and beyond time, write this to you, within and beyond time, as a welcoming. 

We write this as you read it–together, I mean. 

We went to the cave you’ve not yet found but already visited. 

We went for darkness, for rest from images. 

We went for the rocks that we then called walls. 

We went for what we then called silence and have since learned better. 

We laugh often here. And not from fear. 

We went to be naked in a place where such a word could be unburdened too.

We went to undress language and to love its skin with our own. 

We left our clothes outside the entrance in a great heap. 

When we last looked outside, our pile looked like a great headless animal. 

It was breathing. 

Though we found no mouth through which to feed it and we did not notice eyes or ears or nostrils through which this creature might know, we left a bowl of water there, in case the being should evolve to develop organs and a mouth and thirst. 

Before the cave, we saw our fair share of objects growing teeth and hunger. 

We saw how people could become prey to garments, objects, manufactured excesses. 

Monstrous. The vast and growing appetites of human efficiency.

We know the creature might come to find us, homesick or hungry for the warmth of our bodies. Sometimes we hear it moving, whimpering in the night. 

We send it beautiful dreams, as we send all living creatures beautiful dreams.

Since we came to the cave, we’ve improved the capacity and reach of our messages. 

We were surprised by this early on, when we still thought of the rocks inside the mountain as walls. We came to the cave because we wanted to free ourselves of the names of things. 

At first we called this “hard work,” as we hadn’t activated our learning or our patience. 

We hadn’t emptied ourselves properly. 

We wanted to become bowls. 

We wanted to be free. 

We said these things because those were our references, faulty and name-bound as they are. This language was as close as we could get to comprehending namelessness. 

We thought of ourselves as “I” then; this was, as we used to say, an opening, a beginning, a threshold. Now we recognize that all is and is not such a thing. But no matter!

We’re writing this as an invitation. We welcome you to the cave. There are no set directions we can offer. But if you listen carefully, you will find the way.