It felt as if I were looking backward in time, both here and there; recalling a memory, some things very clear and others, for unknown reasons, vaguely formed. I had a sense of mystery and good fortune yet a little disembodied, released from the immediacy of desire. I was neither body or soul but precisely both and neither. Longing was there and not there, a memory as well as an intent or purpose.
It is, perhaps, a photo of the Bardo zone, looking back on that time just before rebirth when you cannot recall what it was like to want something, and yet, even then, a vague not unpleasant disquiet leads you to choose to be reborn.
There on the other side of the bridge another life begins.