Chapter 7

A new journey

Still pale, Brigitte arrives at her building and... steps right on Monique and Yolande, who just went down the stairs, not having found her at home.

«Briigiiite! We see you no more! We wondered if you were buried under your cardboards! exclaims the exuberant Monique.

- At home we are having a small party tonight», Yolande adds with her eternally sweet voice, «and we thought it would be nice to have you!»

Brigitte, who walks like in cotton, and watches her movements like a stranger, just knows to stammer hello. What to do, other than accepting? Nervously she buries the book with the black cover in the depths of her haversack, as if it had the power to reveal the shameful moments she just experienced. Time to find Monique's little white car, and here they are, Brigitte sitting behind, among heaps of vegetables.

Strange, Monique and Yolande, that everything separate in fact, seem to get along perfectly.

«Well, Brigitte, you are very pale! Looks like you've just met death in front! Monique worries, who does not think so well.

- No, I don't... I... I'm a little tired» Brigitte just avoids goofing.

«Your job does not suit you. You look like extinct. You're not made to work in a workshop full of screaming metal scrap, do you.

- Oh no, not at all!»

Marc and Yolande live in a fairly large villa, in a quiet suburban area where you can even sleep at night. In addition to the local in town where Brigitte used to come for Yoga, they have here a large room reserved for meditation. It is a basement, and well needed to escape the lawn mowers, dogs and other radios which monopolise the sound space by day.

Everything in this house is calm and relaxing. In the soberly furnished rooms with pastel walls, only a Hindu musical instrument or a small incense shelf evokes the spirituality of the inhabitants. The kitchen and the office are very neat, without any useless object. The common room is adorned with a vast library, of course entirely devoted to spirituality and similar topics, as well as a large choice of cassettes of classical music, Hindu music, relaxation, music therapy...

Marc warmly welcomes Brigitte with his deep, well-sounding voice. In his presence, everything is simple and true. He introduces her in the house. Other guests are there too, that Brigitte does not know.

It is a nice evening which starts with a great vegetarian meal, but then really not bigoted! Judge by yourself: after the raw veggies sprinkled with an excellent parsley sauce mixed with oil, lemon and a little garlic, come stuffed cabbages, vegetable pie, seitan brought by Monique with a tomato sauce, and finally cakes with raisins, pies, tofu cream with fruits... All generously sprinkled with an excellent muscatel, the juice, not the wine naturally!

Fortunately we do not have to taste everything!

Brigitte is inhabited by strange feelings. She attends like a stranger, as if it was not involving her. But in the same time a sweet temptation takes birth in her heart: to erase everything, to forget all the black and the despairing, and to reconnect with this warm fellowship... She feels the trap: to forget her doubts... And her ideal with them, as if it was this ideal which caused her suffering! No, such a renunciation would be worse than death.

Throughout the evening, the animated conversation rolls on all the topics dear to the ecologists: informations, news of each other, relaxation meetings, which seem to delight Monique.

Brigitte remains almost silent, but around ten o'clock Marc suddenly sees her yawning and dozing. «Brigitte, you are a long distance from your home, Monique still wants to stay a while: she could bring you back, but...

- Well, I'll manage. I can walk back now.

- Oh listen, you look so tired! We do not even hear you, you who always were the best hung tongue! In addition I wanted to show you some things, but at rest, tomorrow for example. It's Saturday, you do not work.

- No but...

- Just go to sleep in the guest room. There is everything you need.

- No, I...

- Listen, come see, you have blankets and here the button of the radiator, not to be cold.

Willy-nilly, here is Brigitte lying like a child in the small room where hovers a discreet and indefinable scent. A happy hubbub is still coming from the common room and... She really needed some rest!

 

 

 

° ° °

 

 

The next day... Brigitte feels good. When she wakes up, it is already nine o'clock. How calm is this place... Easy to see why: the windows are double glazing. She just needs to open the window to see the benefits! Calm is a precious commodity, for which Marc and Yolande not hesitated to put the price.

She does not know what to do, not wanting to abuse her guests. Marc is invisible, Yolande very discreet, and Anita, another guest, busy at the office, probably copying mailing lists to find trainees.

No trace remained of yesterday's treat, just the floor wet from the mop. Suddenly Brigitte realizes that she forgot her bag in the common room! Nothing serious: she finds it carefully placed in a corner. Inside there is... She almost wants to put it in the fire, without even looking at what it is. What an horrible scene yesterday! If the stranger had not appeared so opportunely, she would now be a pitiful heap of ashes... And Marc, and Yolande, and Monique, instead of going about their business with a serene smile on their lips, would now be in the throes of sorrow...

Marc finally appears.

«Hello, Brigitte! Slept well?

- Hello! Very good, what a calm here!

- You look better, now.

- Ah!....

- I knew by Monique that you were interested in relaxation music, do you want to listen to some? I just got new ones from California.»

Brigitte walks through the titles, the names: Deuter, Kitaro, Iasos, Aeoliah, and others she never heard of. Without realising, she had the luck of having before her eyes, still reserved for the initiated, what will be later the classic, the best of the twentieth century end, or the moving beginnings of the wonders of the twenty-first. Curious, however, Aeoliah seems to her a familiar name, full of emotion, as an indefinable childhood memory. Finally she falls to a stop on a title which Roger had told him well.

Marc kindly allows her to take a place, and then he goes back to his room, where he probably has to do. Anita and Yolande exchange occasional words of activity, or a few laughs, from the kitchen to the office. Sun spots slowly explore the patterns on the carpet. A small naive image of smiling Christ, all in pastels, seems to be winking friendly at our friend. She pulls her tongue at this religious representation, but this seems to amuse Him! Well, she will have to endure Him.

Her haversack is there, on the couch, next to Brigitte. And if... As the first aerial arpeggios start to resonate in the headphones, Brigitte, driven by an irresistible impulse, pulls the book a little... What a strange title? How can there be... She reads the exergue, and...

Imagine Brigitte, still shaken by her sad misadventure, to the sound of a grandiose music which slow and irresistible pulsations methodically pulverize any pettiness to carry us panting all the way to the stars, Brigitte discovering «Life after life» by Raymond Moody, quite a hot topic for her!

For those who do not yet know this important book, learn that Raymond Moody is an American psychiatrist, struck by a strange story entrusted to him by one of his faculty professors. Meeting others who have had similar adventures, he write this book, had success, and even is the basis of a movement. These are people who went close to death, or who have been in clinical death, and went back to life through appropriate care, or even miraculously, when all hope seemed lost. And all of them tell about the same adventure, with variations, which seems to describe what would be the first stages of another life after life, this is to say the survival of the soul after death. It is customary to call these close approaches of death «NDE» (Near Death Experiences) and if you want to know more, read the book, I will not deflower it any more!

As Brigitte, transported by the pulsations of the cosmic music, advances and discovers the different testimonies, she goes from curiosity to astonishment, from astonishment to stupefaction, and finally to exultation. At last she discovers that the universe is not limited to the matter of the physicists! Finally she admits that consciousness can exist outside of its usual material support: the brain! It is as if in front of her a grey wall was suddenly giving way, to reveal a marvellous landscape with bright colours, which she often heard about without believing... The music stops? Hurry, she restarts it!

Moody's book was open to criticism, from a scientific point of view. This removed some of its proof value. But since, several other authors wrote on the same subject, and published studies which nullify all the anti-NDE arguments. It can therefore be admitted today that NDEs are an established scientific fact, in which one can have complete confidence. The Dutch Study, in especially, concludes the debate in favour of the NDEs, and even acknowledges that the only possible explanation is of a transcendent nature. Then, where come from the silence of official science (and of many others)? It is to be feared that it does not come from a lack of valid science verification, but rather from a taboo about the human spirit, or even a masochistic refusal of the survival of consciousness! (Taboo still not lifted in the 2010s)

Yet the book easily wins the conviction of Brigitte, as it did for millions of other people around the world. This from the sincerity of the testimonies, their homogeneity independent of the religious convictions of witnesses, and even with the incredible story of the being of light. In addition, the copy that Brigitte holds certainly served as a bedside book to the stranger who transmitted it to her: it is worn, a bit crumpled, and there are the annotations... In front of one of the testimonials of accident, this remark: «As in Oran», and a little further, concerning the being of light: «Well remember what he said about M...» (A feminine first name, followed by wise life guidance). Even further, a newspaper clipping in Polish, with, scribbled on, page numbers all referring to the being of light. Does this mean that the stranger also experienced the same incredible adventure as the book's witnesses? Then what man was he, under the appearance of an ordinary paper scraper? What message did he received from the envoys of the Infinite? What did he choose to do with his life after this wonderful experience? How many of these seemingly ordinary people are there in the streets, at work, who came back from where we do not come back, just to help others to progress?

But there is something else again. The tunnel. The infinitely dark opening where the dying are engulfed. Just the day before, what did Brigitte saw, a few fractions of a second after the stranger interrupted her fatal gesture? The entrance to a chasm, a tunnel! Of an unimaginable darkness! She first thought that this vision was simply a mental image, induced in her mind by the presence of death and its hideous instruments, but now the witnesses of the book evoke exactly the same image, still fresh in her memory!

In one of the testimonies, also, the character was not in apparent death, but only in the face of an impending death, ⚠ prisoner in a tank which was filling with acid. As he was preparing to die, hopeless, an «inner voice» told him exactly the way out, in an extremely short time, as if had intervened another himself, super conscious, perfectly mastering the situation and his body. Brigitte cannot in any way refuse to admit this new turn, for implausible as it may look: one day, exactly the same thing happened to her! A stupid accident, which she thus avoided, when she was a teenager. She was walking quietly down a street, without suspecting anything, when suddenly, she felt an urge to stop, and her body froze, as if pressed by a powerful grip: a heavy cast iron pan burst at her feet, falling from a twelfth floor, just where she would be without the providential intervention. Everything happened so quickly that she did not have time to sketch a thought, much less a reflex! She had never told this strange story to anybody, not even to her parents. How to speak of such exceptions to the ordinary laws of life? How to integrate them into a materialistic conception of the universe? Brigitte, like many others, had left this treasure in a dark and dusty corner of her memory, from lack of knowing its inestimable value...

After death, the word is then to the soul alone, which, indestructible by anything material, continues to exist even when we no longer see it expressing through the body. It is then immersed in a new world where only the spirit and its productions count. What a well-deserved happiness for the idealists! What a shame for the slightest mistake! What a terrible tragedy for those who dedicated their lives to nothing or to evil! Because in the face of death, no role holds, no lie. One can even not lie to oneself, or self-justify, not even put on blinders. Everyone is equal in front of the Truth, the good and the criminal, the powerful and the miserable, the simpleton and the great Sage. Moody's characters feel guilty for peccadilloes. Imagine the fate of a tyrant who feels all the suffering he has inflicted, without possible escape, without the consolation of being innocent...

When Brigitte arrives at the chapter devoted to suicide, she shivers retrospectively! The stranger who saved her was sure to be true while saying, «I do not think this is a solution to your problem.» No, it was not a solution, and what would she have missed! Just reading this book and this wonderful music was worth every sacrifice! As the loud music that the radios vomit all day long now seem far below!

Finally when she re-emerges in the house of Marc and Yolande, the afternoon is well advanced. Her eyes sting, like after crying. She even skipped the meal and Marc carefully avoided disturbing her reading, seeing her so involved. He is smiling at her now, as she runs her hand through her messy hair and stretches her stiff limbs.

«You seemed so absorbed in your reading that you did not even joined us at the table! What was that? Ah! Moody's book! I have it too, even in two copies here. Precisely I wanted to show it to you. It is a book which done a lot of good, which confirmed a lot of things that we already knew.»

How, he knew, and he told her nothing? Brigitte, for a moment, is angry after Marc, but she quickly realizes that it is her fault: would she have accepted, if Marc spoke her six months earlier? Surely not. If she had not been so proud of her materialism, she would have understood earlier, and would not have gone through such moments. Her mind was totally clogged! Marc spoke to her about proofs, and she did not have one, but ten! The dream of Ganymede's furrows, which she saw at a time when no human could have imagined them, the superconsciousness which saved her from an accident, the finger of God of her Mother Grand, the stranger appearing just when needed, and, as if all this was not enough, now her vision of the tunnel! Everything now lights up in her mind, like the pieces of a puzzle, which we tried to find out, and ended up thinking that it represented nothing. But suddenly the pieces set themselves right and reveal the Truth!

How could she remain so long attached to these narrowly materialistic conceptions? It was because she had trusted naively the scientists, or at least this very particular category of scientists who regularly monopolize the media, to remake the world with their catastrophic fiddling: nuclear power, laser weapons, terrifying genetic manipulations... Or who bawl all together against parapsychology, UFOs, alternative medicines, carefully maintaining the amalgamation between the most lamentable deception and the genuine approaches. The attitude of these pseudoscientists, she understands now, is also an attitude of belief, a belief in the absolute power of science, a religion of deified matter, called scientistism, an irrational psychology quite similar to those of the religious of old who condemned Galileo, and mingled with decreeing the physical truth in the name of religious dogma. Today scientistists legislate in the name of physics in spiritual matters, and even in morals! What an arrogance! What a naivety! (Note: «scientistist» is a rare word in English, yet it is the best translation of the much more common French «scientiste», which allow to differentiate the mere belief in science from the true methodic approach).

Brigitte, who has done a bit of epistemology in the faculty (the science of knowledge), had not lost her time: she understands better the fantastic possibilities of science in the material field, and its narrow limits in the world of the mind, where it is inoperative, at least in its present form. As for biology, where matter and spirit are so inextricably linked, this materialistic science certainly gets some knowledge, but so caricaturedly unbalanced that it sometimes turns out to be more calamitous than ignorance...

 

Needless to say, after this dazzling revelation of the survival of the soul, Brigitte often returns to Marc and Yolande, where she has a permanent invitation. She quickly gets acquainted with the spiritualistic conceptions of the universe, and discusses with Marc everything about spirituality. Marc conceives, fairly classically, the universe as a creation which purpose is to be happy by itself, by an infinity of different and harmonious life experiences, in an infinity of existence planes, with each different local conditions. Some of these planes are pure emotions, pure vibrations of the soul. Others resemble material planes, but of a matter which more readily obeys the thought, as in dreams or imagination. Others are material, like ours, but with varied properties. All have in common Harmony, Beauty, Good, with some exceptions, as on Earth, where things (temporarily) deviated from their normal course, causing the appearance of evil. Evil is essentially a lack, the absence of Beauty, of Kindness, of impetus toward the Marvel. To get out of it, one needs to awake the Consciousness and its qualities, by a series of exercises and experiences of life called the spiritual path. This path leads to self-realization, integration into the universal Harmony and, by the way, freeing oneself from the unpleasant today earthly conditions. Classically still, Marc explains to Brigitte the immortality of the soul, which incarnates in a body at birth and leaves it at death, to take back another appropriate one and and be reborn, and continue its experiences, its evolution, to the perfection its climbs step by step.

Brigitte discovers wonders, of which she in fact already heard, but which she rejected as «materially impossible»: the astral voyage, where the consciousness detaches from the physical body and can go and see what is happening elsewhere, even on other planets. The stories of psychics. Still, she has trouble accepting such things. But now Yolande, usually so discreet, confides.

«It happens to me sometimes, to feel people, to see what has to be done for them. It is not always easy to experience, for example when we see them doing silly things but we cannot intervene. But it is really a joy when we can help someone to wake up, to evolve. In your case I always had this very strong impression, that you are someone very spiritual, in the heart, in spite of appearances. Marc realized this too, but lately, it must be said that in the ecologist's place it was not very nice! We thought it would only be a bad passage, that you would get away with it, that it was better to leave you alone for a moment. And then the other night, while we were preparing the party, in the store with Monique, I had a flash. It may seem strange to you, even shocking, but I saw you falling onto electrical devices, and you were calling for help... So, I did not said anything to Monique, who is too materialistic, but I offered her to invite you. As she is really nice, she did not think at all of the stories of the past: she happily accepted and here we went to get you. I do not really know what these electric things were, but anyway it was a good idea, wasn' t?»

Brigitte, her eyes in the vague, her heart beating, will surely not answer: so, Yolande had a clairvoyance of the frightful scene of the other evening! How could she dare to confirm? No, she will not tell, she is too ashamed. Maybe later. But she is amazed of all what converged that night to save her and bring her to this revelation... Monique with her car, the stranger stepping by in the nick of time, with in his satchel the book and the annotations, Yolande who sees her from a distance and catches her just in front of her house, the tunnel vision, the music, the party... What a meticulously organized plan! What an admirable synchronization! Nothing was left to chance, everything was done so as to arrive in its time, to the nearest second... Then who pulls the strings of this wonderful theatre? Who cares so much for her?

 

Brigitte does not come just to talk. She joins them in the beautiful room in the basement, for meditation sessions. As we guess, she is now prodigiously interested! Around Marc and Yolande, gravitates a small group of spiritualists who follow Yoga classes, meditation, or come to special sessions of spiritual work, for their personal evolution, or for the evolution of Humanity, especially the full moon nights.

From time to time, they also receive visits from very sympathetic friends who live in the mountains: Hélène and Gérard, and their children. They are in a large mas (large stone farm in South France) converted into an accommodation, where they organise courses in the countryside, for alternative medicine, yoga, Tai Chi, or for crafts.

But above all, the four are doing meditation and spiritual work sessions in the mas... Brigitte, as soon as she hears this word, raises an attentive ear...

This time, without being rich, Brigitte has money to pay for the trip and the session. She will go to Hélène and Gerard, at Easter or this summer...

In the meantime, she still has to continue to survive materially. At her job, the regular incumbent of the position she occupies came back unexpectedly. Brigitte does not lose her temporary job so far: the company has an unusual load. So, as she is resourceful, she was kept, about in the same activity, but in another room where she no longer hears the throbbing pant of the pneumatic jacks. She is alone in fact, in this workshop. So much the better, she is now free of tobacco smoke, pornographic images on the walls and lousy discussions. Only the foreman comes to see her from time to time, or the driver on his powerful forklift to load or unload the cartons. Strange man, strong, blond, who seems devoid of all the small vices of the other workers: he does not smoke, never says rude things, smiles all the time, works conscientiously but without ever getting stressed. She would like to chat with him, no doubt he would be receptive. He seems to hide some mystery. Unfortunately all she learns from him is that he arrived one day from Canada and that after his contract he will probably go to the Far East, or to Brazil.

 

It is a fact that she feels better. Her vitality is returning. Is it from having a broader vision of life? To see a bright horizon, and no longer a grey wall? To know that her trials, as long and painful as they are, are not permanently blocking her access to a real life? That she will be able, whatever happens, to join sooner or later this authentic life, some day, by her efforts? Even if it is «elsewhere» than in the material world? That she is no longer the plaything of some absurd game? She has «accepted» her trials.

Warning: «Accepting» one's trials does definitively not mean, as some dangerous masochists would make us believe, that we must justify them, and give them a place in the order of the universe. It is just a tactic, a trick, not a philosophical choice. It simply means that, faced with an inevitable ordeal, struggling or banging your head on the walls does not help, on the contrary. But inversely, accepting to carry out the work, the changes of mentality that this test suggests, taking up the challenge, can really decrease its intensity a lot. More, it allows one to continue one's way standing up, or even to transform the test into a learning, to enrich oneself through it. And this is of a terrific efficiency!

 

She ends up recognizing it, first as a diffuse sensation, then as a new state. She is relieved. She no longer has this anguish of death. This atrocious anguish to have only a tiny portion of time to live, which can at every second be irretrievably spoiled by a peccadillo against which she can do nothing. This insidious and hideous despair, which makes us cling to our little personal existence, as if nothing else mattered in the universe, and which justifies «to defend oneself» all the terrorism, all the hatred against the injustices of the world. Brigitte now knows that life goes on, that death is not an end, but a door to another life, to a better life, a door beyond which the evil of the world will never be able to follow her. Somewhere benevolent forces are watching, watching over life in general, watching over her life in peculiar. Never will any financial or political trickery be able to hamper the beings of light! Never will any delusional technocrats spoil their idyllic gardens with highways!

As for the present life, of course these beautiful certainties do not change anything to the concrete problems of Brigitte, nor to the psychological problems of humanity. But at least, if life here is bad, it can only be because of a limited anomaly in time and space. Elsewhere, the normal universe exists, luminous and simple, in which life unfolds without any accident or hiatus, without conflict or suffering, according to those ineffable, simple and perfect laws. Laws of which, precisely, Brigitte foresaw the existence since her adolescence. All her spiritual readings largely confirm their existence.

And if the problems here can not be resolved more quickly, there must be some reason. Most likely, the need for some maturing, and therefore time and patience. This prospect of a happiness to be built together for some time, even distant, is still more acceptable than the atrocious nothingness. Brigitte, although she is still in the same unfortunate situation, is relieved, she feels reborn, like a tree when the rain returns.

She eats more balanced, better prepared. Kitchening becomes a joy again. She stopped gorging herself on marmalades, banished refined oils and avoids meat, although she still enjoys a selected pieces from time to time. It must be said that at the price where it is, meat is a luxury! As long as to pay for a craze, better a mango, it is much better, hey. As for the fish, she did some once... To be definitely disgusted! What a stench, when we wash the pans, after. Thinking that we have the same thing in the stomach... Only the lemon is good in this dish. So better to delight with good lemon without dirtying it up!

 

She also start to realise, and Mark confirms her, that her past sufferings came in fact mostly from herself. From her mind which tortured itself with expectations, desires. Such an way of operating can only lead to frustrations, sometimes appalling, always completely disproportionate to their objective cause. It is easy to understand, once you put your finger on it: You want things to be in a certain way, which is normal. But there is often a difference, a gap, between our desire and what life gives us, hence a certain frustration, which originates from outside our spirit. But if we generate hatred against this fault, then its very existence becomes in turn a problem, a frustration. It becomes a hypersensitive wound, an object of anger, which constantly pokes our mind, as a torture. This inner frustration thus amplifies the frustration of external origin: Suffering then grows exponentially, totally out of proportion of its primary cause, until it becomes intolerable. We hate people to not being as we desire, we hate the world, life, and even God and the Universe. This circle is all the more vicious, because we always find plenty of valid and logical arguments to think that the cause of our feeling is in the others, or in society. Thus we exculpate ourselves, without thinking that it is our own mind which turns a manageable problem into an existential tragedy. Of course it is right to act in the world to try to eliminate external causes of frustration or disappointment. But it is useless to amplify the frustration and to generate a suffering quite out of proportion to its cause.

Brigitte realizes that she had naively imagined her first faculty friends to be perfect, resulting in a tremendous disappointment when she saw their gross faults. If she had not so much idealized them, she would have been more cautious, she would not have exposed herself unnecessarily, and above all she would have been much less disappointed. Same thing with the ecologists group: if she had followed Roger's advice, if she had not expected from them more than they could give, she could take part meaningfully in the activities of the group, without making of it a suffering of every moment. She realizes her huge disappointment with the fake ecologist, while she barely notices her workmates coming at work with a red wine bottle sticking out of their haversack. She does not expect anything from her work mates, she ignores them, while she had a great demand for perfection towards this so-called ecologist farmer. The disappointment was logically in proportion to this expectation. In reality there was no more reason to blame the fake ecologist than her work mates. (Except still that the farmer sullied the image of ecology and manipulated his friends, while her unpretentious workmates are somehow innocent in their vice)

She finally understands why her «relaxation» sessions, as she used to say before calling them meditation, had become so difficult, and together her work of consciousness of the moment (vibrations, poetry, beauty of nature...). Of course, all these activities of the mind require concentration, and are therefore easily disturbed by all the useless or anti-poetic noises, by the plastics lying around on the ground, etc. Everybody doing a work of consciousness (whatever it may be) are, of course, hampered by noises or visions which burst into their consciousness. While these noises and visions do not even appear in the consciousness of those who do nothing. But again, because of the frustration of having to bear this, Brigitte had generated a real hatred against these external disturbances, and this hatred and anger actually much more disrupted her work, than the external disturbances themselves! Here again, «accepting» (tactically, not philosophically!) these external disturbances is the only way to obtain a state of meditation a little worthy of the name, without generating unnecessary frustration. Brigitte tries this new method, and she gets spectacular results from the first session! Well, she still has to train, because we do not erase a neurosis in a few days.

She even realizes that her work, while not exciting, is not that tiring either. All in all, she even experiences a certain pleasure in no longer living it as an oppression, an exploitation. Of course it still is, in this detestable system of wage labour, she does not forget it. But instead of focusing on it and making an hell of it, she takes her job as a simple necessity, even an exercise of presence! At least she does not waste her time anymore: she can meditate all the day long!! This is even more than she can stay focused! She even finds a way to connect with her foreman, who happens to have an ecological sensitivity just waiting to wake up.

 

She goes back to the ecologist's place. But from now on, she will try not to go back into the system of self-sustained frustration. She gives herself an imperative rule: not to return into conflicting discussions. She understood the trick: if she offers helpful advice or criticism to somebody, and that this person accepts, everything is fine. But this is rarely the case! Then the person gets angry, and the more Brigitte insists, the more the person tries to justify himself, finds arguments, and thereby becomes even more entrenched in his mistake, more and more inaccessible, and begins to find that Brigitte «has problems», she is «intolerant» and so on...

 

Still, Brigitte has a doubt, so she tries a little experiment.

⚠ In a first step, she remembers the debates which punctuated the life of the group, about important decisions: take part in elections, collaborate with the fight against vivisection, take a position on non-violence... She looks at each time who protested or criticized. Not always the same, of course. But these interventions were always supported by remarks in the back of the room, tending to discourage, to sow doubt, to discredit people. Always the same, these ones: E... more one or two others. However, E..., usually seems friendly, adhering to all the enthusiasms of the group. He is always, at night, starting for an action not dishonest but not legal either... But as soon as only a whisper of a disagreement arises, even friendly, here he is asking questions, doubt, do not understands what we are talking about, wants to enforce democracy. He never takes a position directly, but he takes part in all the hubbub, of all the off-screen remarks. Instead of going into the current discussion, with its complementary arguments and technical facets, he prefers to see antagonisms of people, manoeuvres... If he is after somebody, he says that «we» do not agree with «your» ideas. He doubts everything, but it does not arise suspicion, because he is «tolerant». (Of course, it is very easy to be «tolerant» when one has no ideal!)

⚠ And his technique is diabolically effective: he almost always managed, without anyone ever suspecting it, to abort projects, upset friends, some of whom left the group, desidealised. His attitude never appeared abnormal to all these simplistic democrats, incapable of refusing to raise a problem... even imaginary. Above all, they had to «respect his truth»... even at the cost of destroying their work!

⚠ If we consider how he speaks of the difficulties of the group to the candidate members, how surprising that it is withering, by lack of new members... One day an horrible discussion had been solved by a vote... unanimous! Then, why did they fought each others? Aaah, he did not understood what we were voting for, and then non-violence, it's a «Catho» concept... For the buying group, peremptory, he concluded «WE saw that there was too much problems». This is also how he manoeuvred with the plonkish ecologist, who viciously assaulted Brigitte. E... had completely ignored the meaning of this situation, to make of it a problem of relationship from Brigitte. Monique, too naive and credulous, had valiantly bitten at E's hook... while the later threw discreetly but skilfully oil on the fire...

And even this was only a simple example, there had been others more discreet, many others...

⚠ Certainly it could have happened that E... has for mind defilement pessimism, doubt, or an awkward expectation, without questioning his good faith. But too much is too much! Especially since he appears smiling, friendly, free and casual, the hair in the wind, typically ecologist. He has no excuse, as he reserves his «art» exclusively for generous ideas, sincere friends, and efficient and useful persons. Talk to him about football, cars, talk about cops and demonstrations, he laughs, he is «with» you. But express some constructive idea, and here he is sending smoke and confusion. If he is with bistro buddies, he goes out with them, talks and bray with them. But if an atmosphere or friendship takes some human value, then he is there «finding problems». And if you ask him for a little participation in the work, he will start discussing your organization...

⚠ As for Monique and other members of the group, despite all her good will, how could she seriously stay in the Truth, as long as she lets anyone fiddle in her brain with impunity? One day Yolande confides to Brigitte: «We do not seek to attract Monique to meditation, because with a subconscious mind so wide open to any wind, she would reap all the fashioned false thoughts and she could quickly go crazy.» This lucidity does not prevent Yolande from treating Monique as a friend.

⚠ In a second step, Brigitte, looking innocent, undertakes E... alone, about Love, sharing in the couple, Mutual Aid... I carefully avoid reproducing the lamentable argumentation which resulted. E..., very comfortable, first invokes TooleRANceee and Saint FFFFFreedom. But, seeing that Brigitte is not impressed, he starts to denigrate everything, to vomit his inner darkness: the dirtiest impulses are kings, love is only a sharing of selfishness, Beauty a bourgeois conditioning, Mutual aid a calculation, the future an illusion... To finish by treating Brigitte of Catholic, of fascist. He is furious at having been unmasked for what he is: a lame bloke unable of loving, unable of vibrating for the positive, full of pride and corrosive ideology, who infiltrated among sincere people to destroy their work... without even being paid for this!

E... had had a sincere ideal in his time, somewhere in a small group of flower people before May 1968, near the Boulevard Saint Michel in Paris. But he had not been able to accept the implied inevitable work of inner reconstruction. From this unspeakable failure, he had conceived this kind of resentment against those who advance, who do something.

But he is careful not to show anything of his revealing confessions to the other members of the group. He now refrains from touching Brigitte, and he is even ostensibly friendly with her. Why such an self-confidence? Because he knows very well that Brigitte can do nothing to denounce him. The other members of the group would not understand her. They are too caught up in their own psychological mechanisms, not enough spectators of themselves, and this is not likely to improve any time soon, because most are hostile to spirituality. Like herself was, just some weeks ago...

Of course, Brigitte can tell Marc, who suspected it too, and Yolande, who was immediately incommoded with E's stained aura. But to Monique, Jean and Patrice, yet all brave, sincere and nice, she cannot say anything...

You may ask, friend reader, why to speak of this pitiful personage? It would certainly be better to forget him, not even to mention him. It is because there is one of this kind, playing this role in almost every groups, spiritual, ecological, political... where there is no spiritual work on oneself, or at least a minimum of seriousness. (Conditions rarely fulfilled among ecologist, spiritualist or New Age movements... and never among the populists: they always are the first to argue, but they do not have a subtle poetic vibration to preserve, so these disputes do not disturb them)

If you meet such characters, know that they do not want your money, but what you have most valuable in you: your ideal. They can, by treacherous insinuations or by their false indignations (like the plonkish ecologist that we saw) make you feel guilty in your aspirations, divert you from it, make you miss the great opportunities of your existence, or destroy your love life. The author has encountered several, as caricatural as those presented in this book, and dozens others less typical in all kinds of environments. Trust only people who encourage you to the good, give you energy, or, at least, if they criticize you, they offer solutions...

And there is no shortcut: everyone, to escape these manipulations, must perform the first steps of the path to enlightenment: sincerely seek the truth for itself, and observe his feelings and thoughts, to understand their sequences and mechanisms. How uncontrolled thoughts or emotions can lead us into the meanders of passion, manipulation, illusion, or other aberrations. It is only at this price that we can acquire our true individual autonomy: the control of our thoughts and our feelings, against the constant manipulation of these incarnated demons.

 

Knowing the limits of the thing, Brigitte has a good time with the ecologists group, although she sometimes break her rule! Often it is difficult for her not to be indignant, and not only because of E... It is hard to bear the spectacle of human defects! How much love is needed for the Sages and the Saints to stay so good in the worst moments! Sometimes it is with Marc's friends that things are not going well. Story to make Brigitte understand that if she took a step, she is not yet at the end of the road! Some of the spiritualists she meets are only very superficially spiritual!

 

As for Brigitte's dreams... It is an extremely fertile time. All the sinister symbolisms of the previous period disappeared, except once the leaden sky. But a new disagreeable theme arrives: on several occasions she dreams of decomposing corpses, with all the details... ⚠⚠... These cooked rabbit heads, which she craved a few years ago, are now a nameless horror coming out of some scare movie. Why does this disgusting show is disturbing her?

In accordance with her new spiritualist aspirations, she dreams again of flowery houses and marvellous landscapes, in which she often meets Marc, Yolande, and spiritual masters.

But the strange arises again. «This» already happened to her in her infancy, and «this» is coming back, just when she is waking up. A curious mixture of two states of consciousness: she dreams, but she sees her room, her bed, she knows that she dreams and that she will wake up! But she is unable to make a gesture. If she forces, she can move her hand, but... through the covers. It lasts a few seconds, and suddenly it unblocks and she can move normally. Once, she distinctly perceives a character next to her, a blond man, hairy and bearded, wearing a long sky blue dress. He leans over and his perfect smile, his sweet words are a balm of truth that she eagerly receives! But of course she does not remember a single word of what he could say when she is awake!

All this is just an appetizer. Here is the ice planet again. But this time she is much closer, and it fills her whole vision. The limbo becomes horizon, the spots hills and valleys. It is extraordinary: there is here, almost at a position which would be that of Norway on Earth, a geometrical figure, traced in a plain. At first she only sees a yellow spot, then it becomes clear: a golden star with four branches, with a pink heart in the centre. What a strange happiness and inexpressible nostalgia mingled together... As to understand the meaning of all this... She is not there yet. It is undoubtedly a revelation, and precise. But but oh so progressive...

 

This period of Brigitte's life is unquestionably happy and full of discoveries ... A joyful light which makes her forget the dark past yet so close.

Comes the summer. Just then, Brigitte learns that she loses her job without warning. The company has resorbed its excess load, and applies the good old principle: last hired, first dismissed... She is again unemployed, along with a young father who turns his head not to let see him wipe a tear of despair. Despite all the positive thinking exercises, how can we forget what the «working world» really is?

Brigitte could go and ask right away another job to the agent, but she has some money in advance, and a fiery desire to get out of the concrete.

Then Hélène and Gérard's sessions are welcome...

She does not even care what it is, and takes the first.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clear rocks burned with sunshine and tortuous trees parade before the windows of the train, under an immensely blue sky, enivred with light, radiant, accomplice. In spite of all the Epericoloso sporghersi, Brigitte passes her head through the open window, in the great wind of freedom which makes her beautiful blond locks fly. Tou-toum, tou-toum, tou-toum, sing the wheels! We are arriving soon! Toum toum, toum toum, toum, toum ... Toum .... Toum ... In a gentle, impatient sway, the carriage flees on its course, prances on the switches, perfectly recognizing its path in this skein of gleaming rails, then stops in the squeal of the brakes!

Brigitte goes down the steep steps, awkward under her heavy blue backpack. This was the first time she travelled alone and entirely on her own. An emotion grips her, as in all the great moments of life.

It smells like oil and the train station. Happy bonjours and kisses hurry around her. Problem: Somebody has to pick her up, but she has no idea on how he looks like, and he does not know her either! In addition, with the wind, she is curly, now. How to meet among the colourful tourists, the young Swedish in khaki, the Americans in shirts, the not colourful professional travellers, the bawling conscripts on leave, the quiet old peasants?

«Brigitte?

- Uh yes, it's me!

- Hello, my name is Frédérique!» answers the stranger in a warm toned voice. How could he wait for her right in front of her carriage, and find her in this crowd without ever seeing her? This is really that they had to meet...

Their eyes look at each other.

Yes, they had to meet.

Frederique is tall enough, elegant, with a well-trimmed beard and little long hair, wearing a shirt left open to his tan torso. He is elegant without being restrained, and could pass everywhere, from the ecologist group to the dynamic executives seminar.

He carries Brigitte's bag into the sun-drenched street and invites her to climb into his little red car.

On the way, he opens his window and places his hairy arm on the edge, a casual gesture of seasoned driver. While a herd of blue, green, and ochre mountains is hastening around the car and tries to overwhelm it, he is starting conversation. He has been interested in spirituality for a long time, doing astrology, dowsing, graphology, psychotherapies, and even sexology. He remembers past lives in Egypt, Tibet, India, to prehistory. This is too good to be true! He has done so many things that are so difficult to ordinary mortals! He talks about it so at ease! Brigitte has a doubt, like an alarm bell, but it is quickly swept away by all this display of experiences, these words which flow... Everything is so tempting, the easy smile, the mesmerizing Sun, the light and the warmth, beautiful scenery, tanned rocks, a cicada from time to time, and pink and ochre farmhouses perched on the slopes. Brigitte feels her heart beating: In one of them...

Finally, Frédérique leaves her in the Mas de Peyreblanque, where the session takes place, and leaves her because he lives a little further and does not attend. Too bad, Brigitte thinks, who was starting to find this company pleasant.

It does not matter, here she finds her friends, Yolande, whom she never saw so well dressed in a large deep blue shimmering gown, Marc, Anita, Hélène, Gerard, their children, more two trainees who just arrived. The others are for tomorrow. Yolande, usually so discreet, has in this place an imposing, ample and beautiful radiance that Brigitte never saw yet: she is the queen of the mas! The magician! She is here at home, in her element!

As there is still some afternoon time, they visit the surroundings: a garden in a hollow, full of vegetables, a source in a shady valley, deliciously cool after the polluted heat of the city, a sloping meadow where neighbours let their horses graze... on this occasion Marc shows himself a good rider. Ah Brigitte thought he knew him...

The spring is a fairy place, all covered with moss under a rock overhang. A greenish light falls from the foliage far above. The back wall is built with so mossy stones that you can hardly see the joints. From there arise mysterious and fresh gurgles. Hélène comments: the Devas... The fairies... The undines... In this sacred place, these names are no longer entities of fairy tales, but an intensely tangible presence, from delicious shivers, by a powerful vibration of Peace, a magical sensation of vitality...

In this dry country, the source is the wealth... Often coveted. As they move away, Marc comments: «At first Hélène was alone, when Gerard was working, and she was harassed by a property developer, who even threatened her! It ended one day, he was surprised by a kid from the village to light up a fire in the scrubland, so that it goes into building zone. Two hectares burned, still, before the storm extinguished it. The boy did not dare to tell the gendarmes, but the people of the village knew, and they no longer wanted the project of the developer, who had to go elsewhere.

- It's amazing a story like that!

- These people are worse than bandits!

- He wanted to do a tourist thing, it would have ruined everything!

- Parasites who live from theft and destruction. They'd better work!

- It's incredible that in such beautiful places come such characters!

- But the worst are the hunters. There are some who threatened us with their rifles in the orchard and even in the garden! So when it's hunting season we must always go out at several! At one time we had hens loose, we had to give it up because they all disappeared within fifteen days of hunt opening. Because of them we had to fence the garden: they drop rabbits, wild boars, for the pleasure of killing them! But, being familiar to Humans, these animals enter the gardens.

- These people are sick, perverts.

- And they dare to call themselves protectors of nature!

- But this will some day come to an end. They will have to lower their flag, because people begin to realize. Soon hunting and all these sadistic vices will be abolished. By law, quite simply.»

Fortunately, these discussions do not disturb the serenity of the group, who returns to the mas after a journey in the fantastic rocks and oaks all rustling with cicadas and birds. Gerard has laid out there a meditation path, easy with little slope, that one can travel while admiring the beauties of the nature, or immersed in his thoughts. It leads to a shoulder from which spreads a vast panorama towards the top of the valley, towards the big mountains, blue in summer or white in winter. Above the mas, higher than the meadow, are steep beech forests and ochre rock slopes. In the flat bottom of the valley hisses the torrent, only audible sound here in the silence of the night.

Gerard also shows his building work, in a former barn near the house. He intends to arrange a large meeting room there, but only the sketch is visible. The slabs and trowels mingle without complex of spirituality. «Spirituality must not be a flight from earthly life!» He comments, smiling.

The meal in the large white painted vaulted hall is superb. And simple: vegetables from the garden, home made bread.

There a funny incident took place. Brigitte gets out of the bag the remainder of her travel snacks, when suddenly Gerard glares at her, miming the most horrified surprise. All the eyes converge on her: What blunder did she made? Gerard continues, more embarrassed than truly authoritarian: «Here we are strictly vegetarians»

In the silence, Brigitte, stupefied, contemplates her unfortunate remains of a sausage that she just put on the table.

«We ask visitors who bring pieces of cadaver to bury them, as for any cadaver»

Faced with this simple but unexpected demand, ideas fluttered in Brigitte's mind. Has she stepped into some crazy sect? Or among those aggressive and uncompromising «sectarian vegetarians» so mockingly described by false ecologists like E... and N...? No, she is still sitting in front of her friends Marc and Yolande, in meditation, Gerard and Hélène frightened by their audacity or fearing some reaction of anger, Anita and the children smiling as of a good trick, next to the two trainees also mouths open with astonishment. Humans, quite simply.

«But why?»

Marc answers, gently, calmly. «We want a world of gentleness for all beings. We do not want to contribute to animal suffering by murder to steal their flesh nor...»

The rest remains in suspense, as useless. Brigitte bites her lips: How could she not have thought of it earlier? It was not for lack of speaking or reading of it! She slowed down the meat a lot, but only for the sake of her health, without really stopping it. But respecting animals demands to stop it completely. All the great instructors of humanity have been repeating and rehearsing it for twenty-five centuries. All the same, she has to struggle: something is still rebelling and claims her sausage. But how to remain logical with herself, with her ideal, if she ignores the inevitable precept of her companions?

«Good. I... You're right.» The smiles and naive applause of the children reassure Brigitte, who was feeling some vexation. All the tension falls, and they are all united in this new and hot complicity. Leaving the meal there, they go to the specially reserved corner of the garden, under the fresh fig tree, in the blue evening and crickets. A pickaxe is handed to Brigitte, who performs the little ritual by saying «I give up forever to feed myself with the death of our brothers...» in such a theatrical tone that they all laugh!

Then they sing.

Back in the dining room, the comments are going on. This is daring, all the same! What an emotion! What a strength emanates from this act, from this commitment taken together! What a joy to have succeeded! A little «Bastille taking» which will not make a date on the calendars, but which will remain engraved in the hearts of all those who accomplished it. Brigitte, her fingers a bit earthy, is the queen of the evening. Comically she plays the: «Mon sauciflard! Waaaah!» The two trainees, stunned and happy, ask: «You do it every time?

- Yes!

- And it always works?

- Yes, we are the first surprised, but it always paid off, even when not at once. Once it is an entire family, ordinary people, and they keep writing us to thank us.

- Aren't some taking it bad?

- Sometimes, we feel as if the sky was falling on our heads, but in fact everything has always been well. We sing, we laughs: the false self-love must not come and block the awareness taking with reactions of anger, of vexation.

- Were you ever called sectarian and intolerant?

- Oh of course, we were told and repeated, precisely by very sectarian and very intolerant people... against vegetarians. This is called a psychological projection. In fact we are doing a good job here, and a lot of people became vegetarian thanks to us, and also ecologist, spiritualist.»

Once alone, in the evening, in her bed in a room under the roof, Brigitte thinks back to this decision, which commits her for the remainder of her life, which she took in some seconds. Unbelievable! And if it was a mistake? Then she realizes, as a matter of course, that these dreadful dreams of rotten corpses tormented her precisely... every time she had eaten meat! Very exactly! Her very body was protesting! Oh those dreams! As sometimes they teach us!

As sleep comes, she finally feels that by her choice she has entered the world of her friends, much more efficiently than with long discussions. She gave, she agreed to sacrifice a little personal desire, for the Love for her «inferior» brothers. Little desire that she does not even regret, by the way... What would she lose if she refused! What she would miss if she had not listened to them...

Ah, if the stranger with the book had not...

She thinks that she is just starting to live, actually. All what she did until now was only plays without significance. Now, she entered the great family of the righteous. Serious things will start now.

 

The next day, the other trainees arrive, and the atmosphere becomes still warmer, although without the privileged contact with her friends. It does not matter, because the work of meditation fascinates her, as a beginner she is. They also make songs and games, but special games, intended to test certain feelings, certain situations.

The Yoga and meditation course is wonderful. It must be, so that Anita keeps watch for organization, and the cleanliness of the dining room. Of course they ask trainees to tidy the table and wash the dishes, which they do happily, but there are many details to watch! Marc and Gerard are the teasers, and when everyone is carrying the dishes, Gerard tells how he managed to be expelled from the army: «They put me in the dish washing. One day like that, I went down the hall with a big stack of plates, when I met a senior. So I followed the rules: I saluted! The guy's face when he saw all the plates crashing down on the floor!» Everyone laughs at this jest, at the expense of those unfortunate people who have chosen the duty of tears. «Hey! Oh! Patrice! Do not salute!»

It is hard to explain their games, because they are more about inner life, than about situations like in classical games. The purpose is not to win on any competitor, but on the contrary to help each other. We all win together a better understanding of life, or some of its peculiar aspects.

The penultimate day there is no meditation or singing, but the whole day is devoted to a great role play, with all the trainees and even the children who make poetics goblins, in the farmhouse and the surrounding woods, dedicated to finding... Shh! Go see for yourself, friends readers. I do not want to deflower everything.

 

Finally, in a hubbub of bags and cars, the trainees depart. Before starting the engines, everyone meets in a round, to sing the famous «Goodbye song» which always makes throats knotted with emotion... Because they lived here together a highlight of their lives, a privileged moment where problems, routine, ordinary life, have given way to a sweet and fraternal communion, a luminous harmony. From now on, they will have to keep this endeavour, against all odds, and above all against routine and weariness, to keep lit the flame they just received, in their daily life. And do it where they will return, offices, council flats, or, for the luckiest ones in another mas where they are already clearing the road of a better future, despite the pitfalls of this still limited human condition.

All except Brigitte! When the sound of the last cars fades down the road, she is still here, among the teachers of the course. Marc and Yolande look at her with a laugh.

«Darn! I should have taken advantage of their cars to go back to the station!

- It does not matter! You only have to sleep here again tonight, you will find an opportunity!»

All to her delight to communiate a little more with her friends, Brigitte actually spends five days more, from missed opportunities to postponed trips... Without anyone complaining. And especially not her.

In the meanwhile, she shares the activities of the small group: tidying all these rooms, the garden, plus a small concrete to pour for the barn, where she holds valiantly her place at the concrete mixer, proud to finally work with her hands, to act concretely for a better world. They talk little, entirely to their work, but the atmosphere is nice, simple and calm. Oh not ideal, and in the intimacy a few small storms burst, especially between Hélène and Gerard. This is how things are: perfection is not yet of this world.

Whatever, after so many years of grey and concrete, Brigitte had never been so happy. She breathes in the greenery, unfolds like a withered plant which finally receives the sun. No, she is not from the town. Who is, by the way?

She vibrates with Gérard for the project of meditation room. She even gives him ideas: why not to make these windows round? Gerard, enthusiastic, reviews his plans. «Fortunately, he said, you gave me these ideas now, because later it would be too late! It's much nicer like that!»

Here she is with a real garden, sprinkled with spring water and covered with leaves of the forest. Even the garden of his Mother Grand seems small and conventional! There grow plenty of vegetables that she does not know: potimarrons, patissons, sweet corn, impossible beans voluptuously climbing after long poles. It is not very big, because only two people take care of it, but here Brigitte surprises herself imagining the enlargement of the fences and the sites for new cultures. Without daring to say it, she is already at home.

Another enthusiasm awaits for her. In one of the rooms, reserved for a weaving workshop which rents the farmhouse for two weeks each year, a loom is waiting, more a stock of coloured wool. What a wonder, this simple and clever mechanics! She goes through all the details, which utility she understands as if she did that all her life. She begins to dream of sitting on this beautiful apparatus, and to weave beautiful harmonious clothes, out of the sad and narrow ways, to live here already a piece of this bright future that she glimpses...

From time to time, she goes on the meditation path. It is not a walk, but a communion with this beautiful nature... In the morning, she is awakened by the wonderful prayer of the blackbirds, and Hélène tells her that it is even more beautiful in May. Hélène is the poetess of the mas!

All to this new life, Brigitte feels like she is out of prison. For her it is her «leave», because she does not dare to think that she is definitely free if she wants to. What a light! What a joy! The whole group, Marc, Gerard, Yolande, Hélène, Anita, are ready to accept her to stay here. They know that it is her place, her happiness, her reason for living. No obstacle, financial, psychological or otherwise, seems to interfere. But, made cautious by unpleasant precedents, they dare not say anything to Brigitte. And lose a great opportunity.

Brigitte, modest like all true spiritual souls, does even not imagine being worthy of such a place, and believes that she must leave and free the place for the next stage... Although the heart is not there, but then not at all. The opportunity to return to the station eventually ends up presenting itself: the seductive Frédérique. He comes, like that, for some matter of a group order of organic products. He will go to the city tomorrow. Brigitte just has to come to his home for the night... She agrees, all to the joy of making other discoveries, attracted by his presence, his self-confidence. Brigitte is quite new and naive, in the small spiritualistic world. She knows neither the mirages nor the sharks, does not even suspect their existence. Yolande makes a face like that. Of course, she already knows him, the Frédérique, no need to be clairvoyant to know what is to happen. But what she also perceives is that everything she could say can change nothing. Hard, hard, hard...

Again the goodbye song arises in the gravel court, in the shade of the great acacias, between the cloister and the roses arbour. Everybody is sad (except Frédérique, of course) but for opposite reasons.

Frederique lives alone in a little house, a little lower than Peyreblanque, in the same valley, just at the end of the beautiful village as before, full of very nice old people. This very evening, Brigitte and Frédérique sleep together, thus sealing their union. She will stay with Frédérique, like his companion. She thinks she has found happiness with him. Farewell the dirty streets, farewell the pay slips, goodbye the din. Besides, she is close to her friends, and can even walk there in two hours. She is definitely out of her jail in town, that she abandons without regrets, like an old grey shrivelled moult.

But she does not know yet that she just swapped it for another...