It’s like a state between two attentions called ruohtta. This is where we end up when we have lost the relationship to our psychic or traditional world, or been called back to it. It is neither good nor evil since it is both, and it is most often perceived as a personification of a desolate emptiness without content. But it is not empty, and without patience we can never perceive it. And without perseverance we can never understand it. It calls for a different kind of courage. In a literally sense we experience it as an endless nothingness, and fear of the dark. For what is in the other. Something we find by listening to what our nature encounters in there. It is a flow and a passage that goes in two opposite directions that wears and pulls us until we break. But that’s when we start listening. It is our relationship to our instincts, the impulsivity that constantly claim our immediate attention that make us go crazy because at the same time, we are moving in its opposite direction. To the other, psychic personality. Where our primordial senses and the content of that world is still a force of influence, making its presence felt everywhere. No matter what a collectives perverted and rigid sense of this possesses. After all, it is what we have to face personally, on our own. To explain it away, or with scorn and prejudice be condescending, comes from our lack of courage to experience this reality. It is about our endurence, our fears, and of being alone in ourselves, and with what we contain that only our relationship to this content can convey both in ourselves, in others, and in the living environment that surrounds us. We are both enclosed in it and embraced by it. It is about character, about being attentive, and respecting both the physical and mental relationship we have to it.