Baifa Monü Zhuan
When at last she began to rise from the immersion, it was gradual, a slow ascent through the layers of perception she had descended through, each layer reasserting itself with gentle clarity, each sensation returning in its proper order, a return that was both a homecoming and a transition, a return to the ordinary world of duties and responsibilities.
The phantoms dissolved one by one, returning their substance to the greater current, their luminous forms fading into soft motes that drifted through the chamber and vanished, their presence absorbed back into the flow from which they had been shaped, a return that was both an ending and a beginning, a completion of one phase of the practice and a preparation for the next.
The phantoms dissolved one by one, returning their substance to the greater current, their luminous forms fading into soft motes that drifted through the chamber and vanished, their presence absorbed back into the flow from which they had been shaped, a return that was both an ending and a beginning, a completion of one phase of the practice and a preparation for the next.