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By flamy at 12/02/2009 - 03:19
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Yesterday was one of the most sacred trips I’ve ever been on with Mary Jane.
I regressed into childhood. I was there. I was one with that child. It was as if I had traveled back in time. I wasn’t just privy to the thoughts of that child, it was more full-on than that. I was the child. I could feel what he was feeling, hear no, think his thoughts and see the myriad images that we all see in our heads when we are a new and young life on this earth.
I don’t know when the regression started. I had a semi OOBE (out of body experience) before that. My legs were floating up in the air and I tried to get out of body and once almost saw my head and neck on the pillow from an elevated perspective. Then, I gave up on getting out of body because I felt I wasn’t ready.
And before I knew it I was going deeper into my own head.
The intimate details of childhood came rushing back to me. This sudden cognizance of the inner worlds of my childhood was immensely sacred and overwhelmingly beautiful for me. I shudder a most unique shudder. Not of fear, cold or trepidation. One of awe, wonder and a deep gratitude.
What could be more intimate than the games we play in our little heads when we are left to ourselves in our play room?
And then it came. Ladders of colour tripping over each other. A windshield wiper made of orange circles going from left to right. Whitish-blue spheres bouncing on the horizon. And amidst all of this, a lambency of “special colour” – that fluoroscent green one, the one that was so different from all the other colours in the sketch pen set. And a little boy’s voice crooned – specul colurrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I had a special bond with this colour. I was fascinated by its uniqueness. I think this was when the concepts of individuality, originality of thought, radical rebelliousness et al took root in my personality. This makes me want to digress for a moment here. I was led to the most sacred place of all – definitely the holiest altar of an individual consciousness – the place where beliefs are formed. I was out of breath when I realized I was witnessing the birth of a new belief – one that would grow and breed itself into one of the cornerstones of what one could term one’s character, the attitude, the me. What was even more thrilling was the realization that I could alter this birthing process. I could tamper with it from my present state of consciousness. I could – to put it simply – change who I am.
I didn’t, of course. I wasn’t sure. And moreover, this was a helpful belief, not a harmful one. Ya ya, I knew that I could just as easily migrate myself to the birthplace of that bad belief and work on it. But, I was lazy. I wanted to see more of my inner matrix. I wonder if laziness is a belief…
So, back to the Special Colour game, I was back in my play room. My head was on my pillow. Mom was in the kitchen. I think I have just been fed. Amminni (Breast Milk).
I used to put my head on the pillow while my back was arched with my knees on the bed. Something like how we get down on the knees and touch the head to the ground in temples.
So, there I was with my head on the pillow. I used to roll my head around and in my head used to play the Special Colour game. This was how I spent most of early years, haha. Wow.
The discovery of the Special Colour was so special. This was my secret garden. The hearth of my boyhood dreams and doubts.
I took it all in. I rubbed my face against the pillow listening to my mother in the kitchen. I thanked my mind for faithfully preserving these precious memories.
I realized this was only the beginning. There was more. First encounters with numbers, words, computers and girls.
The exciting part about this journey was that the rudder was just my intention. I could go anywhere I wanted by just wanting to. I could swoosh down the abyss, through the vortices of my own mind and browse through all my experiences by just wanting to. So, off I went…
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