Occasional Wombat

“Wake up,” she said.

“It’s time to be alive.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” she said. “I have gone through.”

“But how can that be, if you’re talking to me?”

“I am everything,” she said, “including you.”

“How many people have gone through?” I asked.

“Not many,” she said. “Most of them are afraid.”

“Of which?” I asked. “Everything, or nothing?”

“Both.”

“But how can it be both everything and nothing?” I asked.

“When you are everything, there is nothing else.”

“What will I find once I finally open the door?” I asked.

“Everything,” she replied, “and nothing.”

“It’s simple, really,” she said. “Once you find it, you hang on and trust that it will show you the way out.”

“But how do I find it?” I asked. “It’s invisible!”

“Only to the first five senses.”