Ever since I was a child, I have had that dream repeatedly. I was holding a red thread in my hand, and there was a person connected to the other end of the red thread. I couldn't see his face clearly, I could only see his hands, which were very long, with distinct joints, and a shallow mark on his ring finger.
He was pulling me. Not pulling hard, but gently, as if to confirm that I am still there.
I move forward. The red line is shortening. His outline is getting clearer and clearer...
White robe.
He is wearing a white robe. No lines, as clean as an unwritten page.
I looked up at his face.
The eyebrows are like long knives. Eyes like deep pools.
I recognize this face.
No, I haven't seen it. But my body recognizes it. It was like a hot current surged up from the soles of the feet, passed through the knees, passed through the waist and abdomen, rushed to the chest, and exploded!
It's not pain. Yes, too familiar. Cooked to the bone. It's like what's between me and him is not a dream, but a whole life.
He looked down at me.
"There you go again," he said. "Into my dream..."
His voice was warm. Like the ice on the river melting, the water underneath is exposed.
"I've always been there," I heard myself say. Not my voice. In other words, it is my voice, but younger, gentler, and full of nostalgia.
He smiled, like the first ripples on a spring river.
I don't recognize this smile. But my heart aches! The kind of pain that has been felt for too long and missed too much.
"I'll light a lamp for you," I said.
"No." He took my hand and intertwined our fingers. Holding his cheek, she gently caressed the fingers with her lips and sighed slightly. "That's it, I... Let's just be like this..."
Intention: In the past life and this life, it is all you. Lost, gained. It will be all right.