I stood right in front of a monument that read “Trail of Time.” Tony punched invisible buttons on the air, and elicited a rippling movement in front of us.

“I had told you that time travel are for fools who lived on regrets,” he said, turning to me. “But if you want to travel through time not to undo the past, but to gather its lessons, then I have the portal for you.” He gestured to the monument. Noting my hesitation, he added, “C’mon, don’t be shy. This will help you get to the meditative mode fast.”

“Why do I need to learn it?”

“Because,” he poked on my chest and towered over me with his commanding voice, “you’re not going to waste the time I’ve invested in you today and go back to your old ways of purposeless, mindless wandering. You need to learn the art of meditation—the art of spiritual warfare.”

“Alright.” There was no fighting this side of Tony. I poked on the wall and my finger went through. “Whoa.” Withdrawing my hand, I retreated.

“Don’t worry. It’s just another holofilm.” He entered and disappeared.

“Mom, did you see that?” the boy behind me tugged at his mother. “The man disappeared inside the monument!”

“I’m done with your make-believe,” the boy’s mother replied. “You’ve embarrassed me so many times! C’mon.” She picked him up, despite his protests and put him in the stroller. As soon as they had disappeared in the distance, I stepped into Tony’s invisible portal and encountered blackness.

“Tony,” my voice echoed in the dark. ”Tony.”

“Over here.”

“Where are you?”

“Where you could hear me.”

His voice was somewhere ahead so I stepped forward and my feet landed on something crunchy. Jumping to one side, more crunches erupted beneath my sole. “What the heck am I stepping on?”

“Dead cockroaches, and some other amphibians I don’t know. Also rotten crab…”

“Are you kidding me?” A faint pungent smell whiffed through the air, and it became stronger as I tiptoed towards his voice, my body cringing at every crunching sound. Air entered into my half-parted lips as I tried to breathe with pinched nose. All sorts of creepy animals came to my mind. I just wanted to get out of the darkness.

All of a sudden, light illumined the ground and under my feet lay hideous remains of dead animals. I jumped up but I had nowhere else to land but on the skeletons. Yet my feet fell on the ground with a flat sound. I tapped on carcass. “Holofilm?”

“Yes. Which was more realistic for you, the sound or the sight?” Tony’s silhouette stood a few feet in front of me.

“Obviously the sound.”

“So listen up. From this time onwards, learn to walk your life with your ears, not with your eyes. Listen to the voice within. Have faith.”

“What if I don’t believe?”

“I think you do, more than you care to think.”

“How can you be so sure?” I said.

“If you had only two choices to experience football, do you prefer to listen to it over the radio or watch it with muted sounds?”

“Of course, listen to the radio.” I’ve experienced both and found more excitement at listening than watching a soundless game on TV.

“See? You believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You acknowledged that you don’t need to see to believe. You even prefer to hear than see. And faith is based on the power of testimony. Listen and you’ll hear. Come.” He beckoned me further into the tunnel and took out a small remote control from his pocket. With one press on the black device, the holoscreen projected a white canvass.

“Listen to the sounds,” he said, “and tell me what you imagine.”

A growl and shriek echoed in the white tunnel.

“Sounds like a jungle with wild animals.”

“And what’s your first instinct?”

“Survival, I guess.”

“And this?”

“Rustling leaves and flowing water? Stream perhaps?”

“Close your eyes.”

I did, and calmness settled in my being. The sound streamlined to a finer monotone, slightly higher than mid-pitch.

“Recognize that sound?”

“Is that white noise?”

“Yes, now listen to that for a minute then I’m gonna lower the volume and tell me the minimum sound your ear could discern.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure where this exercise was leading, but it seemed easy enough.

“There, still hear that?”

“Yes.” The white noise was still there.

“What about that?”

“Yes.”

“And that?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I could still hear the sound, though barely discernible.

“I have turned the white noise off, Jeff. You’ve entered the meditative state. The sound comes from within you.”

“What?” And the sound was gone. “I lost it.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll recover it with practice. And the easiest way to train your ears to white noise is to be with nature. Listen to the sound of silence. That will bring your brain to experience the alpha state and give you clarity and focus.
It also predisposes your spirit to contemplation, the theta state. In this state, prayer becomes powerful. Do you pray?”

“Um, I go to church with Kate and the girls. And say the evening prayer. And Angel of God…”

“Wrong question. Do you talk to God?”