Coral in love (Hope at altitude)

The air in this high country is thin, brittle as vintage silk, and shimmering with the quietude of a bell that has already been struck. For so long, we were architects of the invisible. We followed the maps of the great developmentalists, climbing the rungs of Kegan’s scaffolding until our identities became fluid, translucent, and finally, unnecessary. We shed the skin of the individual for the inter-individual, moving through the world not as solid objects, but as a series of resonant echoes. We bathed in the coral light of a consciousness that knows no borders, a state so integrated that the "I" became a mere whisper in a cathedral of "We."