I fall asleep trying to put the younger son to bed. His tiredness from earlier is my tiredness now. His restorative 3pm nap is my present. The light spilling in from the hallway fades in many dimensions, and the dark walls covered in mental projections of to-do lists disappear into shadows. The world of men is transfigured in the long blink of an eye, a correction that joyously transmutes worries into falling teeth, and other majestic images.
In this new world, which is older and wiser than where I just was, sentiments line up. Blocks of water jostle against each other, crowding out a long-sighted view of a tiny temple on a giant mountain in the distance. The blocks of water threaten to spill, to overtake each other. Each is the size of a tidal wave, and would fit in a sink. There are no 'buts' here; everything can co-exist perfectly with its own opposite.
The temple is also behind me, and inside me.