tmbt memoirs: the last attempt

It began as it usually did. The sensation of rising above the blankets, the bed, my own body. The sensation of pulling, of being pulled, of being pulled upon. By something. Something entirely too close and altogether light years away. And the sound. I remember once describing it to my father when I was younger as a cross between unearthly screaming and a train roaring, racing, running through the heart of me.

He had told me once that he had begun praying for me then, when I told him of the floating, the tipping, the terrifying feeling that something was pulling at me, trying to get me to leave, trying to tear me from my own life. I don’t suppose I said all of those things then, that I understood them then. But he did. And he began asking that they not take me, that I stay put. And now, as I awoke in – or rather, above – my new bed 1,083 miles away in that sleepy-turned-bubbling mountain town, I knew exactly what it was, too. But it didn’t matter too much.

It was the last time of the several when they reached for me, hoping to have back the songs and the flights and the starlit dancing. It was the last time they tempted their own fates by stretching through the veil. Because it was the last few days of my life spent with my heart in-tact.



Photo found here.

~ by HeatherArtLife on May 23, 2011.

5 Responses to “tmbt memoirs: the last attempt”

  1. It sounds like ordinary astral projection, except for the pulling part, but I begin to think that there is nothing ordinary about you.

    • Know this, Mossy: Your thoughts and words and presence in this world are encouraging and buzzing with love. I appreciate you so much.

  2. Love this. Love you. Love the way you think, the way you sing, the way you look. You are the most beautiful thing, this morning. *hugs*

  3. Well that put a smile on my face. Thanks.

    btw There is a very good book on astral projection by Robert Monroe called Journeys Out of Body. In it he describes his extensive experience. He describes many of the things that you described.

    Personally I think that the freight train is just the conflict between one part of us that wants to go out and play and another part that does not know what the hell is going on and wants to stop it.

    I found that when I went beyond the terror then everything calmed down.

    Hint: If you ever need to get back, just wiggle your toes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: