“Lemu-eel,” Little Lindsay said, “can you tell me where Pura Vita-Veedaville is?”
“Yes,” she who is known as Manasa and, to some, Ananta—the endless snake who circles the world—replied.
Long pause. Little Lindsay cleared her throat. “Where?”
“It’s here, all around you. Pura Vita-Veedaville is everywhere.”
“But where are my Mommy and Daddy?”
“They are where they should be, as you are.”
“But I’m lost and afraid, Lemu-eel.”
“To have fear is to make fear, Little Angel. She who is unafraid will not bite, or be bitten. At this moment you are safe, but not sound.”
“How do I find my home, Lemu-eel?”
“For that you must be quiet—serenely, divinely at peace. Once there, pay attention to your intention. With that, you will find yourself. With that, you will no longer feel lost.”
Little Lindsay, remembering to ask the right questions, tried to frame her words perfectly. “Lemu-eel, can you show me the way home?”
Lemu-eel swayed back and forth. “No, Little Lindsay. I can only tell you where the path begins.”
Little Lindsay was frustrated. Her mind bounced about like a busy bee in a bucket, wondering What to do? What to do?
Lemu-eel sensed Little Lindsay’s discomfort and said, “To do is what not to do. To not do is what to do. Now go. Go and be still—all at once and both together.” The Mother of all snakes lay her head back down and hummed a nearly silent vibration.
Little Lindsay hung her head in thought for a long time—frozen, it seemed, in a timeless state. Her breath became shallow. Her heart slowed to a tiny blip. Her mind was sinking, sinking, sinking… to where? Nowhere. To Pura Vita-Veedaville.
“Jeepers,” Pepe the peeved pizote whispered to Amber. “It’s like a wax museum in here.”
“Mister Swift! Mister Swift! How did I get up here again?”
“Not how, Little Lindsay. Why?”
“Shouldn’t I be in a hole in a tree?”
“Is a hole in a tree any different than a hole in the sky? All This is That, Little Lindsay.”
Little Lindsay swayed slowly in the light wind way above the jungle called Earth—or, as some of her inhabitants call her, Pura Vita-Veedaville. Her mind was blank but for the sweet sensation of bliss. All was as it should be. There were no questions, so no answers were required.
Mister Swift spoke inside her head. Little Lindsay, what is your intention?
Mommy. Daddy. I have to make sure they’re safe.
Mister Swift did a dance in thin air. Yes! When your intention is sincere and worthy, it will find support in Nature. When it is for the good of others, it is also good for you. When Nature and intention come together everything is knowable. That which was fear is replaced by charity. The need to give is greater than the need to receive until, finally, there are no needs at all. To want is to lack. There is no better state than a lack of want. For when you want everything you have nothing, and when you need nothing you have everything. Open your eyes.
Little Lindsay did as she was instructed and opened her eyes. Pura Vita-Veedaville lay sprawled at her feet under a glowing sunrise. Morning mist drifted lazily in patches below, causing shafts of sunlight to splinter and highlight trees with golden, sparkling light-ornaments. Some of Nature’s children were waking up, while others began to rest. And some were hungry.
What is your intention?
Mommy. Daddy… where? There! A donut hole opened in the mist way, way below. Within it, Little Lindsay saw Mommy. She was hanging clothes to dry on a line. But wait, was Mommy crying? And where was Daddy? There! But he was pacing back and forth, obviously agitated. I must go.
“Yes, Little Lindsay,” Lemu-eel said. “Go with the grace of your deepest self.”
Little Lindsay shook herself awake, back to the tiny discomfort of a hole deep in the heart of an old tree. Lemu-eel was coiled comfortably on her warm rock. Sleepy Sally was still poised to turn her cards over, but hadn’t. A slow breath followed by a light snore oozed from her slightly parted, thin lips. Her eyes were still closed.
“Thank you, Lemu-eel. Good luck with the poker game.”
“I need luck like I need a pair of suspenders. You are always welcome, little long-legged one.”
Little Lindsay turned to face Amber. “Grab Lucky, Amber. It’s time to go.”