Liza felt a strange sense of familiarity with this new place. This experience was entirely new for her, but like a missing piece of a puzzle, she fit right in. Mr. Po explained important things to her.

"My child, you will find that there are many levels of looking at things. And there are many levels of understanding what you see. You can shift your focus from one level to another with very little effort, once you have learned the process," he said.

"But Mr. Po," said Liza. "How will I learn this process?"

"Do not be concerned, child. These things will come to you in time. But be prepared. You will receive knowledge as you need it. But you must pay attention or it will pass you by... or knock you on the head." Mr. Po reached up and thumped Liza gently on the forehead with his small papery fist.

Liza felt reassured in Mr. Po's presence, but when he was not with her, she wondered if what he said was true. So many unbelievable things had happened to her since she first saw him in the little market stall in New York City. She was no longer able to automatically disbelieve what she previously thought impossible, but she still felt a sense of unease whenever her reality took on a new shape.

Mr. Po handed Liza and her father over to the care of the sherpa guide her father called 'Bobby'. Bobby was a competent guide. Liza felt safe with him. It was a good thing, because she was being pushed to her physical limits in the extreme conditions of these high mountains.

About three quarters of the way into the first day of their climb, Liza felt a little light headed. When the group stopped to rest, Liza sat on a rock and tried to catch her breath. She notice that she was having a hard time keeping her eyes focused. Fatigue lulled her into a state of relaxation, and she realized that she enjoyed the way she felt when her eyes went out of focus. As she gave in to the experience, she noticed that what she was feeling reminded her of the way she felt when her gaze was locked with that of Mr. Po the first time she saw him. Only it was not so overwhelming.

In fact, Liza found that she liked this state, and she wondered if she would be able to make it happen whenever she wanted. As she was wondering this, she noticed a purple haze, like a pulsating gaseous cloud, hovering in front of the snowbank she was facing. At least it looked like it was hovering. But when she shifted the direction of her gaze, the purple haze moved as well. She found that wherever she looked, as long as her eyes remained unfocused, she could see the purple haze, pulsating rhythmically before her. It was quite beautiful. She felt that it looked like it had life, and there was a reassuring presence about it that comforted her in the absence of Mr. Po.