Neglect

I have taken what seems to be a meaningful step--not that it will really affect me much, but it does answer a great many questions I've lived with about my tendencies and peculiarities. Let's see.

--At the age of four/five, I had a transcendent experience where I witnessed what I called "God" while trying to imagine how big God would have to be to encompass the planet, solar system, galaxy and universe. I slipped sideways/in-between and witnessed an interdimensional sphere of sorts that was composed of funnels all expanding infinitely outward and collapsing infinitely inward. My young mind tried to explain it to my mom as a giant ball of tinfoil that was being crushed but remained the same size.

--I saw lights and faces, animals and creatures that weren't physically there often as a child, and had dreams about angels and speaking fantastical animals.

--Around age 6 or 7, my cousin was spending the night and we were sleeping on the floor because it was too hot to be much higher in the room. A quietly crackling ball of light came down the hallway, made a ninety degree turn and floated through my room at a steady pace, passing through the window. My cousin screamed, afraid, but I held her down so she didn't accidentally run into it. I yelled to my mom that there was a light in my room, and my mom said it was probably just heat lightning. I thought it was heat lightning for about ten more years until mom commented about the heat lightning on a television show. I thought it might have been ball lightning, but ball lightning doesn't make ninety degree turns that happen to coincide with doorways.

--I imagined very clearly that I had been on UFOs but not as an abductee, rather because I was their child and belonged there. In conversations, we'd be talking about different planets, and I'd say something to the effect of "well, where did you think I was from?" I looked up at the night sky and demanded to know why I was there and why I couldn't go home.

--About 80% of the stories I've ever written have had to do with the main character ending up in another world, being someone of great importance there.

--Rivermist, the trilogy I've been working on, deals with a group of souls reincarnating together, but not remembering where they came from or why. As a result, the main character is often alienated and different from those around him, finding power struggles and squabbling for worldly powers ridiculous. When he meets others from his soul group, it feels like coming home. These souls are obligated to finish a round of incarnations on each planet they visit once they've entered its physicality. It is an obligation they choose.

----the antagonist in the series describes himself as an angel of the goddess, fulfilling a sacred duty by providing hardships for others to learn from. He is one of the same group as the other characters, one of their sibling souls.

----in a later story, one of the character looks at the other and says "you know you're not from here, but you have a reason for being here."

----the character is described as a wanderer specifically because he's always on the move, trying to find some place that feels like home.

--Everyone who I have been particularly close to, who understands this obscure, strange, existential longing also has the feeling that they're here for a specific reason and that something BIG is coming in his/her lifetime.

--I've read books like "Wanderer Handbook" by Carla Rueckert and listened to countless descriptions of Wanderers--entities who have come to Earth to help out with their higher frequencies of energy--from David Wilcock, Scott Mandelker and other Law of One scholars.

And finally, after thinking for many years that perhaps I just try to excuse my feeling of difference as a defense mechanism to help explain it away better, after reading Scott Mandelker's From Elsewhere: Being E.T. in America, I've finally thought, okay. I'm a Wanderer. I've been through all this before. I've lived on other planets, and maybe I'll be able to go back there sometime. It changes nothing about how I live my life whatsoever, but it does give me that little bit of assurance and relief that makes the loneliness and longing for those I've left behind far more understandable.

Yet, it really doesn't matter, because we're all One, all souls evolving, seeking to reunify once again with the All, of which we are. Every moment has the capability to be the Eternal Now. All things have the capability to be experienced as an exquisite facet of that One.

Peace, light and love to all other selves.