My first experience

EXCERPTS

from Angel's Eye

by Jean Galliano

 

I am falling into sleep when I become conscious of a sound, like a wind. It grows increasingly louder, sweeping around my ears... In no time I am engulfed. All other sounds are drowned out. My entire body is vibrating, resonating, first with curiosity then with fear. I jump up and out of my sleep. I am disoriented, confused. What was that? A dream? A loud stereo? A passing siren? I feel uneasy; my heart is beating hard, groggy on my feet I stagger a moment but it is quiet now... I have been spending much time alone. Perhaps I am affected by the solitude and the new found chastity. I have been missing my love for long now. Perhaps I am suffering fear of another dream. I wake myself with loud noises...

Too tired to reflect, I dismiss whatever it was. I doze again to find myself at that fine line between consciousness and sleep. The sound is upon me. Where is it coming from? Am I inside of a hurricane? It is rippling through me, tossing my very spirit from the peaceful boundaries of unconsciousness.

I fight to wake up but cannot. I struggle to move any part of my body only to grow more and more dense. A thickness settles all around me. I am the trunk of a tree. I fight still harder trying to break loose but I cannot move even a finger.

In the distance I hear the cry of an infant. The cry echoes. It is me. I am the infant. Some part of me is crying small and helpless. But I am strong; I have made it through birth. Though I am cold I can feel I am alive.

I manage to awaken. Sweating, I climb out of bed. I go to the bathroom and look myself over widening my eyes in the mirror. "I look O.K." I think, wetting my face. "What the hell was that?"

I go back to my room. Sitting and pondering, I conclude that I am not dreaming.

It is quiet and barely morning. I feel both anxious and excited, filled with strange anticipation. But when I try to think my mind is blank, vast and unknown. How could I desire anything or anyone when I have a terrible sensation of never really knowing or understanding even my own soul? The cry of the babe through the storm and wind are fresh and phantomly haunting. It was not a passing siren. My brow furrows; my posture is pensive.


Look in
So far you look
only at
in...


I sit in the stillness recalling certain metaphysical occurrences I experienced as a child. They frightened me. I was glad I "outgrew" them. Although, there is one memory I have of my grandfather which has never left me. At the time of his death I dreamed that he was giving me a message for my grandmother. This was particularly unusual because my grandfather only spoke Italian. I never knew what he was saying; but in this dream I understood him with utmost clarity. He gave me a message for my grandmother! He said he had to go now but he would wait for her. Then he disappeared through the wall. I realized he was dying.

I yell, "Mom, answer the phone! Answer the phone!" Catatonically I repeat that phrase although I do not recall dreaming anything about the telephone. These are the words I am saying, "answer the phone! answer the phone!

My parents couldn't have known what I was trying to express. I woke everyone up.

"It isn't ringing", my father answers. My father often consoled me through sleepless monster-filled childhood nights but I was twelve now and over all that. My mother assures me the phone is not ringing.

I say "Pop's dead; he told me he has to go now. He told me to tell Mom."

They look at me than at each other in surprise. "Pop's not dead", my father says, but I know how Dad will say anything, even lie, to spare me pain. And the phone did not ring, at least not until we all calmed down and went back to bed. Then the phone rang. No one could sleep now after hearing the news that Pop had died "20 minutes ago."


...What holy my thoughts?
What miracle my feelings?
"Between these temples",
I said holding my head,
"house the Temple of the Lord."


I attempt to sleep once again, but for the third time, the mesmeric sound takes me. I am somehow unafraid this time. This does not feel like a dream. My body is asleep but my mind is somehow still awake. I realize myself like a puff of air, like water moving through stone. This must be how it feels to die yet I am conscious. "You always want to know if there is more… this is your chance", I think. Making one of the most important choices of my life I decide to listen to the sound.

Instantly my body grows heavy. I am falling fast at the speed of this sound. I am synchronized with it. I am falling as fast as the sound is growing loud. It is too late for fear. I cannot pull myself out now. I fall for a long time through the seemingly endless darkness.

In sheer desperation, I abandon myself completely. When I become aware again the air is moving through me. I am descending a mountain. I am a valley mist. My body is a mask, a shield, an illusion, a boundary my consciousness calls Self. I am as light as light itself. I find myself settling softly on my bed, blissful, rested and peaceful. The sound fades into a wonderful music. I am soaked by it, born on each note. The ecstasy of the song dims like a foreign language into forgetfulness. It is only meant for now. I cannot remember even the last note. Once it passes it is gone forever...

Suddenly I am aware that someone is standing in the room not far from me. I am not alarmed. I do not want to think for fear of upsetting this delicate union. Yet I must acknowledge there is a presence. My eyes are closed so I am not seeing him; but I can feel and I know where he is standing. As he is walking towards me I sense his every position, his every movement. I am only concerned with staying in the euphoria. If the Being is part of this wonder he is welcome.

He then sits down beside me and slides something silken across my face. My arms are crossed over my chest. I feel the being touching me, caressing me like my own mother would. Then taking hold of my arms he wraps his fingers around my wrists. I feel firmness and sureness in his action and I am surprised by his strength. His fingers are warm and alive. I know how a caterpillar feels coming out of a cocoon as he pulls me to a sitting position outside of my body! I do not think or breathe. There is no time. He continues to pull until I am completely free of my flesh. He spins me through the air. It reminds me of a parent spinning a child round and round. When he does this I feel no boundaries, no barriers. I pass through doors and walls. The ceiling is as transparent as the sky. I know where I am in this newfound darkness. I pass two tiny blue lights. Then I am promptly thrashed into the chest of my sleeping self. It hurt like someone hit me.

I awake with a gasp to the early morning bird song.

In the months to come, the direction and focus of my life would completely alter. How can I deny the reality of this experience? To do so would be denying my sanity. Innocent and full of wonder I talk with as many people as will listen. I receive a spectrum of reaction. Some people encourage me with titles of books, names of Divas, rites to perform or which color candles to burn. Some dismiss me as they do their own dreams. Some search between the words for the hidden meanings and have meetings to discuss their philosophical findings.

In my conversations I hear all kinds of superstitious and stupendous stories about ghosts, gods and goblins. There is much speculation. Ultimately I feel alone. I write poetry, keep diaries to purge myself, confess my dreams...

 

 

 

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