She Nods pt 3 blog 5

As her mind opens wider and wider, protected by projected energy, she feels a warm heat within. Her inner energy is growing, spreading throughout her body, mind, soul. She welcomes it and feels more and more reassured, knowing answers will be unveiled. I was so triggered, almost panicky by the sounds. I was fearful, lost in a kind of terror of the unknown. And now? I bathe in a comforting and profound sense of the knowledge all will be revealed–with no fear involved–no threat to my being. This is good. Really good.

She feels the energy embracing her senses. Even as her eyes are closed, outwardly, they are wide and inclusive inwardly. The warmth spreading makes her skin feel quiet, ready to feel more. Her tongue savors a taste of ginger tea. Why ginger? It does not matter, it is calming, sweet, sharp. Her nose picks up a scent of earth and she is feeling connected even more. Her ears hear the tiniest twinges of sounds–bells, gongs, banging. Harsh. But still far away. I will have my answers! I am ready to move toward them!

She wills her energy to surround her completely even as she moves toward her goal. All senses are keen, taking her closer and closer as the energy lets her feel free to explore, find, understand. The beauty of all of it is ineffable, enthralling. She is seeing more and more. Her eyes see a door, opening wider before her. She nods. Her skin is compliant, flexible, supplant. She smiles. She nods. The smell and taste of ginger pervade. She nods again as she feels, sees, the earth mixing its atoms with the ginger. She is entering a near state of euphoria in her pleasure with all.

The sounds grow louder but they do not penetrate her senses and demand chaos and fear. They simply are. Louder and louder. But now she sees through the door. A woman and a man stand in a cave lit by torchlight. The noises become louder as she watches bodies push and jostle past her. Angry voices, dark faces advance toward the two standing calmly, waiting. The noise, the banging. Then a new sound. I see smaller bodies huddled, trying to hide behind the man and woman. Their muted voices whimper, fearful eyes watching the advance of those that everyone knows will harm them. They, the small bodies, do not cry out. Would they be heard if they did? With all the rage and banging would anyone hear them? And no words, no sounds from the man and woman. Is this where my answer lies?

She lets all her senses take this in. The clothes, the torches–a different time–a different place. For a brief second, a clutching fear squeezes her being. Then it passes just as quickly as it came. The woman standing in front of the small bodies opens her mouth, a keening wail comes out, deep and penetrating. A long saber is now clutched in her hand. She advances toward those coming towards her. I must help her! I must help protect the woman and man and the small ones behind them! My energy must surround them now! Nothing else matters!

She is the watcher, the observer, and cannot prevent what she now knows has already happened. She watches the woman thrust her torch to set fire to the marauders wearing animal skins, slashing and stabbing with the other hand holding the saber. The man now steps forward, swinging a long chain with vehement purpose. The small ones do not run. They do not cry out. They watch, waiting. The marauders are dying in this counterattack. And yet more and more of them flood the cave with their bodies to take down the man and woman. Will they attack the small ones? She hears the clanging, the banging, the clash of bone and metal, the wails of the fallen marauders in pain at their injuries. She knows what is happening. She has seen this before, lived it before. In this different time and place, it plays itself out once again. Why is she not afraid? Why does she not run? Join in to help in some way?

She watches the woman, the man, their futile defense against the horde that keeps growing against them. She knows that woman. She feels she knows the man but not quite. Her eyes fall on one small boy. He will leave here. She remembers. She sees a crude dagger thrust into the back of the woman’s neck and sees her smile as she lets out one more defiant scream. A warrior even in death. She nods in appreciation and remembering. The man is charged by the assailants, taken down and pummeled by fists, kicks, and crude stabbing weapons. The small ones still stand, eye to eye with the ones who would destroy them. I can’t watch. I can’t look on this! Not the little ones! The defenseless! But she knows it will happen. She knows she has seen it before.

The one small boy is roughly lifted from the bodies around him. He does not fight the strong arms grabbing him and yanking him to the mouth of the cave with triumphant shouts from the slayers. Once outside, a crowd can be seen. Faces blur, but some are clear in their horror at a child being thrown on a platform before them. Others mirror the hate of the child’s captors. A voice demands, “Kill or be killed, you child of Satan! You desecrator of our god!” And a dagger is thrust into the child’s hands. Another child, scared, crying, is before him. She sees the dagger drop from his hands to clank on the wooden platform. She watches the boy close his eyes and feels another presence enter his soul. This one stands, resolute, defiant. It happens. The gong sounds, reverberating, as metal bells clank, the crowd rumbles loudly, demanding obesiance. The gong is struck again. A long curved sword is drawn back by a hand from a black robe. One swipe. The child’s head rolls from it’s neck as the body melts down onto the platform. There is no cheering now. Quiet. The quiet of death. She knows it was her head severed, her body slowly falling lifeless.

This is what I couldn’t remember. This is what I was struggling with. I could hear the sounds. I could not see what was behind them. I understand now why I was so unnerved. Why I was so triggered by these sounds. But I was not open to seeing and remembering. Now I KNOW. MY HEAD WAS SEVERED AT THE SOUND OF THE GONG.

A voice as quiet as a stirring breeze, from within, whispers, “Now you KNOW. You allowed yourself to remember a time past, another life. KNOW. What will you do? What have you learned? What will you do with this knowledge?” Silence. No one will believe me. Only those who have dared to share their deja vu, remember their past lives also, and speak of them. But I do KNOW now. I cannot deny what I have seen, felt, the answers to so many questions I always asked why I did certain things, avoided others, knew innately that there was more to existence than one lifetime. I used what was learned from the past I was unaware of to guide me in the present. What will I do now?

She slowly feels herself returning to the energy surrounding her. This energy and knowing can help shield others, prevent pain for others and myself. I will KNOW the consequences of such actions thrust upon others by choices made to strike out, eliminate, deny, and justify. My energy can sense the energy of evil and destruction. I can shield the vulnerable. I can choose to use what I remember to learn how to better encircle those that are vulnerable, the warriors who fight against this negative and hateful energy with the good energy that comes from KNOWING and learning to use it. I have learned because now I KNOW.

She opens her eyes, gazes around at her surroundings. In this world, yes, I am the alien. The strange one. Was I taught so much in another place and realm? I am not bound here. It’s time to speak with others who also KNOW and understand my space. Aren’t aliens rarely acknowledged, seen, heard? But they KNOW, too.

Aliens are good. Good energy. Rememberances with a purpose. She smiles. Yes, alien to this place. This time. She will KNOW more. She will use it for good. She nods. She nods again. It is good. She nods.

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