on the increase of personal awakenings

I think I was born awake. Almost at times as in a nightmare because of how real what I sensed really seems to be. As a baby I did not speak until almost three but said a lengthy sentence that bore love and concern for a specific situation. Only to not speak again for several months to next speak about a personal displeasure with a particular discomfort.

All that time leading up to it I seemed to be able to fully communicate with myself though. To actually comprehend what others were doing and enjoying or not enjoying and why, even while comprehending the inability I lacked the ability to fully interact. It felt frustrating and at times humiliating and humbling.

By the time I was six, when the other children played at the playground I would be sitting under the picnic shelter talking to the elderly, about life and the world, listening to their histories and philosophies and politics and understandings. Enjoying that sometimes their competing views were made even more passionate to convince me of some resonating truth, and many things did resonate true. Things other children my age didn’t know existed or cared about.

By the time I was 12 it was simply impossible for me to fit into the system. I knew so much more than they were telling me, I knew it for a fact because I had felt the truth resonate inside me when people who had lived through what they were trying to misrepresent or omit had already convinced me there was so much more and so different than how the system attempted to spin it.

They tried their best for a couple of years, all the way until I was 14, different approach after different approach, over a half a dozen different institutions applying every modality available to them only for me to speak back the truth to them of the need for the modality and its intent to submerge and control in ways they could not avoid the resonating truth of.

By the time I was in my late teens I was looking inside of boxes and outside of boxes, level after level trying to figure it all out. I had my first paranormal experience at 8 as Uri Gellar helped me through TV to make a broken watch work. I had my next paranormal experience at 11 when I mentally envisioned the healing of a critically dying loved one with the same principal and intent behind fixing that watch and believed I could out of love and did. The person acknowledged I did and thanked me. I wanted not to believe that I could do this, but one of the ways the system tried to turn me was through a powerful yoga Master acting on his own accord to lock eyes and minds with me to read my shielded thoughts. It was a supreme contest of wills that lasted wordlessly for 20 minutes as I fed him distortions of my true thoughts fighting off the invasion only to finally break the gaze to have him stare incredulously in stunned respect demanding to know how I could do that.

I kind of figured something was really up when the in home tutor they assigned me after that institution gave up, spoke in a heavy Russian accent and claimed to be retired from the CIA and utilizing his teaching degree to augment his pension. Oh the questions he would have me right reports on in reply to hypothetical situation after situation regarding social impasse scenarios.

I knew I wasn’t just different but remarkably different. Alarmingly different to many, while all the while the truth of it still resonated in me.

I kept asking and trying to figure it all out. Sometimes I would let it go for a while only to come back to it later.

Then one day into my late twenties I finally realized in a moment of accidental and horrifying connection to the Universal stream that I already knew it all and was connected to everything in the universe but simply had been choosing to ignore I was.

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