The tower is hit by lightning

Once I was given what seemed as terrible news: I could be evicted from my house. My family and I might have to find somewhere else to live.

The result of that shocking announcement was that, for the next hour or so, I experienced the following:

-first, the pain of loss, resistance to the pain, again the pain, then giving in to it, then a sort of relief,

-second, awareness of having felt that pain before, of having lost a variety of loved ones and things I needed; awareness of humanity experiencing that pain,

-then, being able to see the pain without being sucked into it, being both inside and outside the pain at the same time,

-then, knowing that there is only so much one can lose; that stripping to the bare essentials leaves one looking at that which cannot be discarded, cannot be lost, cannot be taken away,

-throughout these phases, which were not exactly a sequence but overlapped, I felt both pain and bliss and could no longer tell the difference between them.

Physically I was walking along the streets of a big city. At times I could not feel the pavement, I knew my legs were doing the proper motions to walk, but my movements were almost subconscious. I felt tears continually running down my cheeks.

I was going to an evening class. When I got there, I looked at my teacher and said: "It is all a lie". It was one of the most lucid moments of my life. I felt no need to struggle. I felt no attachments. I knew I had been wrong to believe in the comforts and safety of matter, of personal "love". For a short span of time, I really no longer cared.

Life went on. I kept on working, "loving", struggling. But I remember. I remember what can be lost and that which cannot. At that moment the veil was pierced, the painted veil that portraits all I think I am, everything I think I own. I felt the light behind it.

I am reminded of this experience today, looking at a Tarot key.