Janr’s mind, clinging to oblivion, vaguely began to sense that his whole body was caught in a taut muscular arch insisting upon continuation. As the reluctant fog slightly cleared from his mind he realized he was stretching his lower back, cramped from a night of being forced to sleep on the hard unfolded convertible couch. He tried ever so gently to initiate a meditative relaxation, to avoid consciousness, but it was futile. The soft rain of his intentions to sleep made the fertile soil of his mind yield a garden of sprouting questions as to why. Consciousness was about to bloom despite his best efforts. Even with years of meditation experience, its narcotic like balm could still be elusive.
He did not want to awaken, even to daydreams he might control, reality today was just too cold and empty! Childhood had been just around the corner and now he was 70 years old and remembering. This particular remembering was just too painful and confusing. What had happened to his mind years ago? Were his emotional daydreams of pre-adolescence really reborn childhood memories that he had long ago buried to help keep his sanity? He closed his eyes in one last attempt to avoid full consciousness but thoughts that had just broken soil were now tall plants growing and blossoming all around him. His memories of childhood were rapidly filling the landscape and converting the desert plain into what he now recalled looked like the dense Everglades back in the 60’s when he had moved to Miami, Florida. Consciousness was the sunlight illuminating their time-lapse like photographic growth. There was nothing he could do about it.
He wondered, was this experience something that happened to your brain about this time in life, when you were 70 or so years old? Like it or not memories long buried with intention, no matter how strong that intention, would blossom into being or depending on their content crawl from their graves like strangling vines that could not rest in peace.
One such vine like memory engulfed a tree, soon its dendritic crawlers found other trees and quickly they networked to claim a forest. The vines were memories, the reborn but familiar memories of alien thoughts, alien sensations, alien amusement that he sensed as a child. He was just in middle school when it began. He still recalled resenting it! He mentally dug in the soil to unroot them but out came more vines painting pictures of the invasion that other young people did not appear to sense and he wondered why did they not perceive it? Were they blind or where they just lying about their telepathic skills for some reason? Was this knowledge not allowed for children? Would they admit it when he was older?
The vines blossomed and their hypnotic scent took over Janr’s thoughts. Wondering ceased and he was young again. He was walking down the street called Calle Doce De Octubre in Hato Rey, Puerto Rico with the Sun just coming up on his left. Mitsy was tugging excitedly at the 5 foot chain on her body harness as she sought the next blade of grass with a message from another dog. As he looked down the street to his right he could see 12 year old Lecticia Delacruz swinging up and back on the porch swing chair in the front of her home. As he watched her long brown curly hair float in the breeze of her movement, he wished he could be there with her. She had been suddenly friendly to him when Janr came to call on Junior, her brother, to go out and fly kites. She had in fact hung around them and tried to distract Janr from his kite flying. She had snuck up and tickled him, run by and pulled the kite string making it dance and even tossed water at him from her refilled soda bottle. It had made no sense until today. Today as he watched her long legs stretch forward and backward to propel her chair he noted her skirt rise in the breeze and had a funny unfamiliar hunger creep through his body. For some reason he just wanted to be on the chair with her and gently touch those long muscular legs. He was embarrassed by these odd thoughts he had never contemplated before and would not share them; however his privacy would soon be invaded!
As images of his hand gently caressing the sensuous curved muscles of her thighs imagined themselves into being so did another uninvited energy. He had sensed this intrusion before, it was like someone uninvited looking over your shoulder. He was awakening to the annoying sixth sense of being watched in a secretive fashion. He was too young to put it into adult words but he too had been the secret observer himself at times. Janr then recalled such an incident. When watching birds flying overhead, he had wished he could see through dove’s eyes as they soared above the palm trees and then it had happened, he did! He recalled walking Mitsy as he was doing now doing and feeling her wet nose touch the blades of grass. Then the world would burst into a kaleidoscope of dogs of many shapes and forms until Mitsy found the one who had left the message. This thought lead to another reminding him of the night before. He recalled being half asleep under the mosquito netting hanging from his bedposts. His body’s muscles were heavy with oncoming sleep but his mind still alert. It was then he sensed something flittering through his mind with the gentle touch of a butterfly, it was looking at his day’s memories. With fascination, he watched it watching him and he was able to sense its thoughts. It wondered what were the picture images of his days experiences and what sort of anatomical feature could allow such perception? It wondered what his hands were like to use and what they would have sensed if they had touched the other beings body? Then it sensed Janr watching it and it was gone!
Janr told his mom the next morning about his dream. She said, it was a family thing to have odd and creative dreams. She said to just ignore them and they would go away. As Janr ate his Corn Flakes and slices of fresh cut mango, he recalled his mom playing with the Ouija WeeGee Board and somehow he knew it would be a long time if ever before the odd sensations of being watched went away.
Janr had buried these memories with exquisitely complex mental tools, developed over years of effort as he had searched for how to mentally survive this intrusion on his privacy. He had succeeded until this morning.
With the reemergence of his childhood memories, creative concepts to explain the new reality he lived in burst into being as did imaginative solutions to his potential new dilemma. He chose not to worry, after all it did no good, and brushed these thoughts aside. Then he recalled just a few years back lying on his chiropractor’s adjustment table. There was a hot pack on his lower back as he waited the ten minutes for her return. It was then he sensed the old familiar touch of a mental butterfly wing but this time it was different! This time the being asked for permission to view his memories. It was an older man who loved the lady who was Janr’s friend and chiropractor. He sensed Janr’s compassion for his daughter’s current plight and it was this knowledge he was seeking. Janr was sure there was no danger and so he acquiesced, after all this was not an invasion it was a pleading request. The being looked through Janr’s memories of that afternoon with Anne, the chiropractor, and then smiled and thanked Janr, though he had no physical face to smile with.
When Anne returned to complete the treatment, Janr chose to risk sharing his experience with Anne. They had known each other for 20 years and she would know he was not crazy. In addition they were both part of an alternative healing group and were open to new ideas that might lead to healing. After he told her about his psychic experience, Anne told Janr that her father who was also her bookkeeper for many years, had died nearly a year ago to that date. He had died at a time when Anne’s associates had bankrupted her practice, her husband had left her alone to support three children and her home had burned down. He had been concerned for her future and now perhaps he would rest in peace knowing of her rising from the ashes of disaster like the mythological Phoenix.
Janr had slowly learned from these kinds of experiences. He now realized that disembodied travelers could not control a body, as learning to use muscle that was not yours was very complex. They also could not see through eyes that were not theirs. All they could do was look at your memories and wonder, if you let them. He decided to stop fighting off the growing forest of old memories. Seventy years later, he did not feel invaded, he now had mastery of his mind and could invite or deny; he wondered what it would be like to again soar with the Eagles?
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What if you were amongst the few who are born truly telepathic, what would your birth experience be like? Would you survive after birth at all and if so for how long? If you did survive what would you see without your eyes and how might that affect who you are and what you do with your remaining life time? In essence, upon achieving consciousness, you would be one with the entire universe finding yourself part of something infinitely large and yet knowing that you were physically small by contrast. It is something that you might ponder if you are predisposed to the lengthy thought process that is the particular disease of creative writers. It is something I lie in bed thinking about at 5:00 am when I would like to be asleep blissfully as you are.
On the other hand what if you were not born telepathic, what would your experience be like? What would it be like in a world of singular aloneness? In your small space your mind would struggle like a sponge to absorb every bit of sensory data possible so you could become one with the terrifying vastness around you. In so doing you would hope to not be frightened by your painful smallness in the now suddenly unaccountably large and unpredictable universe.
Do either of these contrapuntal scenarios exist? It is my contention that they both exist and all the time, at each human parturition. I believe that at each child’s genesis they are infinitely large, and connected cosmically with every other living thing, call it telepathy if you choose. At the same time they are focused on their physical smallness and struggling to incorporate all sensory data possible so that they can make sense of and take control of that which is their new physical environment. It is truly terrifying even without the slap on the ass from the supposedly wise gynecologists. It is terrifying because, since they became sentient, many months ago, their environment has been consistently warm, cozy and full of love and nurture both mental and physical; but, now it has suddenly transformed with the psychological impact of a car crash!
Have you not noticed, as a parent, that children are “sponges” for knowledge? Everything they see and hear becomes part of them, as if they were a movie studio’s camera. They all appear to have total recall (and may infact have this trait). On the other hand, not long after they become able to communicate, in some meaningful manner, we discover that they, at times, play with “imaginary” friends. They do this in our culture, at least until we become concerned. They do this until we tell them that there is no such thing as imaginary friends and that it is time to “grow up” and stop this nonsense.
The sponge like behavior also becomes less and less, for many, as the experience a child possibly absorbs becomes more and more contaminated with doses of bitters and pain. After all, all of existence is a sign wave. There is nothing that does not run like hot and cold that we can perceive, probably because that is all there is to our universe. Our nerves only respond to opposites, change! After you splash into a warm bathtub, in a few minutes, the initial sensation of heat transforms itself, in your perception, to a constant temperature, hardly noticeable. You need change to be conscious. For the neonatal, the fun and security of becoming one with the universe by learning all it has to offer becomes far less joyful with negative experience. Experiences such as those punctuated with the pain of an angry, frustrated parent’s hand slap or that caused by less friendly bacteria trying to eat us from the inside out after spoiled food is consumed. So we don’t really want to remember this pain and we may learn to dissociate from it, since we cannot turn senses on or off at will.
As for being one with the universe by “telepathy,” if we should call it that, it too has its pain. Consider the disturbing confusion of connecting with a being that has no eyes. This being is called a Spheron. This spherical being connects with the universe by sonar like transmissions, much like a bat, but in the radio wave frequency range. It senses its position too by the shifts in gravitational and magnetic fields coming from its planetary home, much like a bird or bees do. It has almost no physical structure because it is mostly energy. It is spherical as that is the natural form that energy takes as it radiates (at least in this quadrant or our universe where the physics we try to comprehend is mostly prevalent). This being does not interact with many of its like others, there is no value. No, in fact its created purpose is like that of honey bees, it gathers information (like pollen) from that thought process and experiences of planets and shares that with other planets much as a bee shares pollen. If you thought that planets are not sentient, just for the moment imagine they might be; it will help with the concepts we are discussing. The Spheron shares that “experience” by warping space and traveling across the universe instantaneously (at least this is how we would describe it). From its perspective, there is no time, no space and no distance. These are the delusions of physical beings like us.
A telepathic connection with this alien mind would be literally Earth shattering. It could be far worse than a trip on LSD! Those with acute telepathy, to maintain their sanity, would quickly withdraw to the comfort of their small, warm, cozy physical space. So perhaps the genesis of that which we call people, derives from the balancing act of sanity trying to maintain its integrity by figuring out how much total recall or total communication makes sense for the environment into which it, the newly created being, has been unceremoniously dumped.
Out of every black sky filled with frightening lightning and torrentuous storms comes the birth of new plant life, the flowers of a sunshine filled morning. Perhaps in a similar manner so do we.