When I was little and spent the night in my grandmother's apartment, where I live now, I often had the same dream. White infinity. An infinity that goes on in all directions and never ends. The feeling of this infinity around me is indescribable, indescribable, impossible to describe. The very attempt to talk about it gives me goosebumps.
Infinity is white and foggy. At one end of it, you can see a rock, and at the other end, infinitely far away, another rock. These rocks are connected by an infinitely long and infinitely thin thread. It is as thin as a hair. I am standing in the middle of this thread. In front, behind, below, and above me is infinity. I have no body, I am a point. I have no thoughts, memories, nothing. I only experience the feeling of infinity around me. Between the point and infinity there is an infinite gap, an abyss.
This point is what will remain of me after my physical death.
The journey from one rock to the next is endless. It has never begun and will never end.
This space is a bardo. It is an infinitely long transition in the space between worlds.
When I wake up from this dream, I realize that in the face of the vast universe, the warmth of earthly life becomes even more precious to me.