Attunement – Opening the Inner Space
Several days have passed.
In meditative silence—broken only by thousands of synchronized breaths.
A time of fasting, of purification.
Bodies lie still, bathed in the smoke of healing plants.
Gradually, a shift in rhythm begins to take hold.
Tents made of wood and hides are raised.
Fire and wet leaves merge—the moist heat drawing impurities from every pore, from every body, in delicate beads of sweat.
The vast plain of the crater remains silent, and yet it hums with contemplative vibration.
Each evening, this resonance is intensified by the Guardians of Resonance in a silent concert.
The rise and fall of the waves tells of the past—a form of exchange that brings everyone into a shared meter.
No voice has been raised, yet all can hear it from within.
Then, isolated movements begin to stir within the crowd.
At first stiff and awkward—perhaps inexperienced.
Guided by the Urklang, by the moment, by life itself.
Adult faces drift toward each other, trance-like.
Without coercion.
These are old resonances—harmonious but overgrown.
Some will bloom again; others make room for the new.
Young people, uncertainty etched into their faces, follow in the footsteps of their elders.
A foot strikes the ground like an opening note.
An arm twitches to the fingertips, as though an invisible string had been plucked.
Then hundreds.
Until the crowd begins to move in a silent vibration.
A ritual dance.
Every step: a whisper into one's own ear.
Every muscle movement: a mirror of one's emotions.
But gradually, the rhythms begin to overlap—first alone, then in pairs, then in threes.
Harmony and dissonance emerge, synergy and antagonism.
Young people discovering themselves for the first time, forging connections, sketching out their future music.
And then—like a scratch on pristine skin—a shrill tone tears through the pattern.
No attack.
No cry.
Just an impulse.
A beat of life that abruptly ends the evening.