was a shift, like someone had taken a picture with a
camera. A shutter drop. The curly haired guru was
replaced by a golden statue of Buddha. Its radiance cast a
golden hue on the stage and beyond. Another shift, a
shutter drop. I replaced the golden Buddha. I was looking
into my own eyes. Shift, shift, click. Rama was back on
stage. Shift. The golden Buddha. Shift. I was Rama,
there was no difference.

Rama introduced words slowly into the spell of the
night. He said, “Tonight you can feel the shifts. Your
practice is taking a dramatic shift. We have played with
the art and power of mysticism. Now we shift into Zen
practice.