The participants are to make themselves comfortable. But that doesn't help much because Jacek starts asking his questions. They are uncomfortable. They disturb one's well-being. They come down to a self-examination of your conscience.
- Imagine that you are back in your apartment. You get up, it's early morning. You go to the kitchen to make some coffee or tea. You pour some water into the kettle. Do you know the source of the water? Just think, follow it slowly. And the coffee you add to your cup. Where does it come from? And the bread you slice - where does the grain that produced the flour come from? Did it travel a few hundred or a few dozen thousand of kilometres? And the birds you hear outside your window? Are they here for a moment or have always been there? And those who came before you to this world, do you think about them sometimes?
If not, now is the moment. Jacek asks the participants not only to think about those relations that one doesn't pay attention to every day, he asks not only for mindfulness, but also for empathy. - Listen to yourselves. We'll go through the ritual of All Beings. Who is speaking through you?
The procession of those chosen by them is accompanied by silence. The Village is crossed by a fish, a rat, the lion recently killed for entertainment, wind, water, a perch and a dog. They have passed next to people who every day try to tame them, subordinate them. To destroy them. What they had to say they shouted and whispered at the entrance to the valley. There, where tomorrow the Invisible Bridge is going to be built.
The scenography is almost ready. The bridge, a black bridge, links both shores. The woven curtain hangs high. Swings await guests. It's hard to believe that everything now waiting to be opened, a few days ago just did not exist. Built from scratch by many hands and heads, day after day, is about to be completed now.
Suspense fills the air. Mood of anticipation. No one quite knows for what, they know they have to wait a little longer. – Joy, that's what I presume I feel now - says Małgorzata Sporek-Czyżewska. None of us really knew what was going to happen. But things started to happen and all that was left is to wait. I'm really curious about tomorrow.
But before it arrives, come the singers from the Lithuanian choir Ūtara to sing their sutartinės. They are traditional songs bordering on meditation. A polyphony of voices complementing and interpenetrating each other.
Just like the groups before the tomorrow's Mystery. In one corner - the choir, in the other those who will tell stories. Musicians rehearse, too, all the time.
Between them, a silent march of the participants of the night walk with Jacek.
Farther and farther away from the manor, darker and darker, quieter. You can hear animals, but you can't see them. A swoosh of the wind, the sounds of civilization somewhere in the background. And the sounds of rehearsals will welcome later those returning from the march, a bit as if the musicians agreed with Jacek on a particular soundtrack.
But, that's still not now. For the time being, we walk on.
The break in the march gives time to focus, sharpen the senses, listen to yourself.
We walk, dry leaves and grass snapping underfoot. The wall of the forest on the left. And suddenly a roar, a bit like a dog's bark, but more mechanical, snarling, guttural. The red deer stag gives the signal - that's enough, go back home.