Conceiving my anchorage

In this incantation, I envision my circular anchorage as a dark, silent space made of natural materials with only a bed, chair, and table. Two chambers, for sleep and awakening, are separated by a curtain, with a tunnel around the perimeter for quiet movement. A window may overlook the Himalayas, but it must be fully shut off. This will be my final resting place, where I withdraw from creation.


As I discipline my moments, I catch glimpses of my peaceful ending—the shape of my time when I am actively unwakening.

During this unwakening, I must not manifest the shapes of people in my outerself. Those I rely on will exist only within a screen or my innerself mind. They will move silently through the hidden service tunnels of my anchorage to provide sustenance and tend to my bedding. I will construct a simple yet effective mechanism to ensure I do not physically encounter these helpers. To accomplish this, my living space must have at least two chambers, separated by a simple curtain, which will suffice for maintaining solitude when they are present.

Inside my anchorage, there must be silence. However, should I choose to manifest the world beyond, it will be one of serene natural beauty—a stunning vista overlooking the snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas, brimming with life.

The design of my anchorage will be circular, symbolizing unity, symmetry, and wholeness. Around its perimeter will be an enclosed, dimly-lit tunnel, meant for quiet movement. This hallway, easily accessible from the central living space, will allow me to enter at will, walking to release excess energy between moments of prayer and reflection. The dim lighting and enclosed design will sustain a contemplative atmosphere, while the circular path will support uninterrupted movement, balancing both body and spirit.

It will remain completely dark, with no lights, just as in my present and last cottage. My outerself must remain featureless, conserving all energy for the battle with my innerself. Every material will be simple and natural. The exterior of my anchorage will be made of stacked stone with simple clay mortar, while the interior will have clay walls or stone, as long as they are non-reflective and absorb any light. I must not see anything unnecessary. The floor will be laid with smooth black terracotta tiles, which will be sufficient for my needs.

Just as I live today, I will keep my possessions to a minimum: a small bed for sleeping, a chair in which to sit and write, and a standing table. There will be nothing else. Thick stone walls and the outer hallway will dampen all sound that might enter the inner chamber, allowing silence to envelop me completely. The roof will need to be insulated to maintain this quiet.

There will be two chambers within the inner space, each occupying half of the circular structure: the sleepening chamber and the awakening chamber. I will be able to enter the tunnel from both chambers, and a simple curtain will be drawn between them. In the awakening chamber is where I will sit. I may include a large oval-shaped window to look out upon the mountains, but this will only be considered if I can find a way to completely shut it off, as I remain divided on whether I should gaze outward during my awakening.

I must never forget that my anchorage is my final resting place, where I will effectively die. This is a truth I will not hide from; in building it, I am withdrawing from my creation.