Not from here - part 2

A light portal formed, and I waited at the precipice, anticipating the unknown. The light pulled me forward, forward as the light changed and patterns emerged. What was once a constant feeling of everlasting love began to morph into other forms of light. The waves of energy began to grow dense and heavy on me, until I realized I could feel. For the first time, I could sense pressure and I felt alive with tingling sensations where energy began to send messages through me. I was becoming physical, and the shock seemed to come suddenly yet persist. Overwhelming sensations began to pulse through me, and I felt a rhythm and knew this was my heartbeat. The physical pressure and density grew and grew and the light changed and with a sudden burst, the brightest and most dense light flashed into me and energy waves transmitting sound hammered me from all sides. What this what it was like to be born?

Having this thought, I was suddenly able to ground myself and feel my way into the moment. I experienced what would come to be known as an out of body experience. I was able to view myself and the situation occurring.

I was in awe of what I was witnessing. Humans, bathed in compassionate rose pink light, assisted one in the childbirth in a small setting beneath a few trees. The sun shone brightly, and my fresh little body glowed in the light as they cleaned me. There was so much about Earth I wasn’t prepared for, and my first shock was the complex beauty of light radiating from and between all the living, physical forms. The ground gave off a vibrant blue-green wave-like pulsing energy, and the trees radiated that energy further out, changing the patterns and colors. I felt warm and the physical pressure returned as I was softly swaddled in a clean cloth that I knew had been woven just for me.

I had many out of body instances as an infant, able to watch what was happening around me, trying to comprehend the language and rituals, trying to understand human life. It was so raw, so fragmented and compartmentalized compared to the eternal, unconditional love energy and non-physical conscious-based “life” I was used to. Although all knowledge was constantly available to me, I struggled to ask the questions. I needed simply to observe to know why the plants leaned towards the sun, why the humans created new objects from their surroundings, and why they behaved the way they did.

In my infantile body, I was learning to connect a sensation to a meaning. I knew that a tickle or tingle meant someone or someone was making contact with my skin, my outer-most layer. I knew the images I was seeing where part of the world around me, and patterns began to emerge. The light would grow dim slowly, then return again after a period of darkness. There were faces attached to those who cared for me. They gave me everything I needed, and I was learning slowly that I had needs.

I knew my mother. I knew from the moment she held me in her arms that I felt recognition for the first time. Her scent was the first scent stored in my memory. The comforting and nourishing energy that radiated from her body healed in me that trauma I had sustained from the rush of becoming physical. She lulled me to sleep with a rhythm she created when she rocked me and hummed. It was a sound I recognized from someplace that seemed far away. Indeed, it was her very form that allowed me to know I could recall and recognize things; that some things were familiar and others were not. Thus I had a base from which I could determine what I knew and what I did not know, as a human.

I got to know my father and three siblings. There were others, older people, whom I had difficulty recalling. Certain foods began to smell good to me, allowing me to know that some sensations or situations were pleasant and others I did not agree with. Being cold, hungry or damp caused me to let out a wail until someone altered the situation and I became comfortable again. During these times I would sometimes have an out of body awareness, and I felt a sense of sadness towards those who would comfort me. I began to realize how much of a burden I truly was to the family, not being able to do anything for myself as they could. And yet, each action on their part was dressed in duty and carved out with compassion. Although my wailing was awful, and I turned a hideous dark color in the face, the love from my family never ceased despite the inconvenience of constant interruptions. An overwhelming amount of respect for them formed in my heart, settling there and never leaving. The unconditional love energy I was used to being bathed in inherently in my surroundings was here, physically, being carried out in the actions of these people. Emotionally, I would seek this always in all beings.

Being allowed to crawl on the ground was one of my greatest joys. Ribbons of brilliant light streamed around me, and I moved towards each one. At the base of these tiny rainbows, I would often discover a new object or place I had not yet noticed or examined. Sometimes my mother’s toes would enthrall me, and I would look up from them, all the way up her body and when our eyes met, a giggle would slip from my throat. Her face would change expressions and I would attempt to mimic them. Sometimes she or one of my siblings would carry me out of our grass hut into the field where they worked, and I would inspect the many creature beings and plant forms that rose from the ground, pouring energy forth. My greatest fascination was the energy streaming all around me in a myriad of forms, and I looked for it everywhere, seeing how it connected all life. I came to crave this experience more than food or comfort. It seemed to sustain me, to breathe life into me when I was tired, much the way my mother once had.