In the distance you witness what is a substantially massive white cloud, swimming in the open space that it, and you inhabit. Seconds become minutes, you sit down and the ground sinks beneath your pressure. It returns to a soft but sturdy seat. The cloud in the distance dances continuously. Within your meditative observations of the cloud that dances like fire, you feel meaning in its movements. You begin to recognize the movements like words, but words that are on the tip of your tongue are still lost to meaning. A feeling of something is upon your arms, it parallels a thought you have. The thought comes from somewhere else, you know you didn't think it. Suddenly a truth enters your thoughts as a hurricane would throw its torrents at you. But as quickly as it comes, it leaves, and you didn't have enough time to interpret it. Lost in the wonder of what it was, conclusion is made to be it was the meaning of life.

Further time in this dream space reveals to you that it is exactly that, a dream space, and you are in a dream. But are you part of the dream, or a conscious observer of it? Are the meanings I am seeing for me? Why would it not be? It would be for me. What does the cloud represent in my life? I have to look at it symbolically, its composition looks soft, malleable, freeforming even. This could represent adaptability, while the white color tells me it is most likely of good intention.

And now, in the dream space, you begin a journey, a journey to the white cloud that dances like fire in the distance, reflecting upon you is your past. You go back to the beginning, because this journey will grant you enough time for such a deep reflection. In the beginning you were a soul unborn, after that you became a youthful human being. A new observer, a new controller, a new inhibitor, a new enabler, a new anything. As such is the beauty of life, any soul could do anything, the good, the bad, and the inbetween are all within reach for us, we just have to get up and reach it. During your pre-adult years there began a such thing as the filter. In my more recent years and moments I have noticed a certain way I have changed my perception, not as many things stand out to me anymore, the childlike wonder may be fading away, but it will never be truly pushed out of the circle by the blackness.

The individuals you have met, that you continue to re-meet, that stay around, that fade away, that leave you as nothing but dead. These are the hauntings of our lives, souls never truly fade away from another's soul. Upon meeting it is forever imprinted in us. Maybe it's our nature to be so critical when it comes to others, maybe it's just the natural way things are. Maybe it's what we all want deep, deep down. Mothers, Fathers, Brothers, Sisters, Friends, loved ones, they are only temporary. What is permanent then? Is anything forever, or will it all wither away?

You come back from your thoughts, not having realized you were walking for so long until the size of the cloud in the distance is larger than it once was, but it is still a long travel from where you are now. A breeze makes its way to you, touching the sky, the ground, your face, chest, and arms, your back as well as your neck. The winds come from all around you, the chills, the wind, the cold gets colder and colder. Until the air around you is frozen solid.

The air around you is frigid, the wind icy. Your thrown forward by a gust of wind, the snow starts, heavy at first, but soon becomes a blizzard. The snow flying and flailing around you clouds your vision, you can no longer see the white cloud dancing in the distance. All that is seen is the torrent. The winds and the ice in the air become too much too bear. You bend to the ground, to the will of the storm.

The storm silences, waking up to the sight of the white cloud dancing in the sky, it's not very far now, the walk continues but there's a sound coming from behind you, turning around reveals a black cloud, barreling towards you, towards the white cloud. Running, in the moment you feel as if nothing can stop you, all of this is too much to understand, “What are the clouds? Why are they? Who are they?” Your body begins to weaken past the point of bearability, continuing to run, lights flash in and out, revealing scenes of the world around you becoming sideways, and the ground becoming closer, closer, and there.

Springing back to your feet, quick to access the events, but your too late, the black cloud had gotten to it first, they are fighting with immense lightning and thunder, the run begins again, the sounds so deafening they could be heard far away in the vast reaches of space, there was no time, there was only there.

And so you had flown there as fast as a bird, underneath the two clouds, battling for their lives, seemingly for the very foundation of good and evil. There's nothing you can do, your the only one, but there's nothing. The white cloud begins to fall to the ground, there's nothing, it must be over, accept that there's nothing I can do, I must make peace with it. I must balance the good and bad in my mind, stop them from fighting, but to co-exist.  

And so the ground shook and swayed and drooped, the sounds and the wind began once again with their war chants, and the clouds began a new dance, a dance of balance, of white and black, of evil and of good, of both sides existing there can be achieved a peace. A certain Nirvana that the monks themselves seek, an understanding that you are at the will of the universe, everything exists from then, to now to far from now, time is irrelative, all things were or will be living, we are atoms that are formed very specially, to understand, to interpret, to create our universe. The clouds Yin and Yang had come to peace with their rivalries, coming to an end, and a new beginning.