Eternity

When I was just six years old, I met what is termed as “God.”  It is not an accurate term, as it implies God has some dominion and power over us.  It could not be further from the truth.  The biggest problem people from my generation and younger have with the indoctrination of modern religion, is it is not compatible with our belief systems, with what we feel is unconditional love from a being with more knowledge than ourselves. It is the same problem I had when searching for what I saw at age six within the confines of religion.  The two did not match, nor did it make any sense to me.  At age six, I did not have the capacity of reading into what I saw any more than what I saw.  It was what it was.  I did not have the more sophisticated world to taint what I experienced as anything other than what it was.

Children, who have experienced severe traumatic abuse such as me, protected themselves through phenomena known as a dissociative state.  I became very skilled at that, so skilled that the memory of the abuse buried itself deep within myself.  My earliest recollections describe classic textbook disassociation.  At one point, I learned to take the disassociated state much further, to a state of flying.  Flying is not often discussed, mainly because most people do not believe a human body is capable of it, but at such a young age, no one was there to tell me I couldn’t do it.  I learned to separate my soul from my body, and to travel far away from my physical form.  Being only six, of course did not understand the dangers of allowing my soul to leave my body.  I only knew I was flying and that I was free from the abuse happening to what I then referred to as “the girl.”  “The girl” was my reference to my physical body, allowing a separation from what was happening to her. When I was flying, I was free of the pain life was inflicting upon me. 

A dissociative state is somewhat similar to flying with two main exceptions.  The soul stays within close proximity of the human form, and reclaims the human form once the danger to the soul has passed.  There is no inherent danger to the body or soul.  It will remain true to form.  The soul will separate itself from the body, but stays close to the body as if guarding the right to return. When the soul disengages from the body to an extreme condition, the soul may fly to other areas of earth and space.  I somehow wanted to leave my little child’s body so badly; I didn’t care about the inherent dangers of doing so.  I was just happy to be free.  To be fair, I was so young at the time, I had no idea of what those dangers might be, and as a child often does, I didn’t care about the long term consequences, I only cared about what was happening right now.  Right now was more than I could bear.   

Can you imagine being forced to suck your father’s cock at just six?  There are some things so terrible, that everything inside you screams.  This was not the first time, I knew what he expected of me, and I knew it was wrong.  It made me sick.  His ejaculation made me sick, no matter how he termed it.  I was little, but I knew this was not how parents should act.  The irony among pedophiles is that they take children who only want to be loved and they use that desire to be loved for their own perversions.  The times when my father did not force me to have sex with him was an onslaught of cruelty and debasement.  Nothing I ever did was right.  The only (positive) attention I received from my father was during a sexual act.  That was the only value I had.  It was also so horrific to me I buried any memory of it so deep it only came out in my nightmares, and never was my father the villain in my sleep.  The terror he invoked on me expanded to my mother.  He said my mother would never love me if she knew I was “better than her.” He threatened to withdraw not only his grotesque version of love, but the love of my mother as well.  He said my mother would hate me for replacing her in his affection.  He wasn’t just threatening it to me.  It was truth. 

My mother was damaged, as I have already discussed.  Of course, being six years old, I didn’t understand the overall dynamics of what was going on, I only knew I wanted to be loved by my parents.  Isn’t that what every child expects, and more so, deserves?  I was terrified of my mother discovering the “special” relationship I had with my father, and hating me for it, like my father had threatened.  I hated the relationship I had with my father, even more; I found it vile and disgusting.  A child is able to see truth so much better than the most experienced judge.  I saw the truth, I knew what my life was, and I knew all I wanted most in the world was to be loved.  All I have ever wanted in my life was to be a good person, and to be loved for the person I was.  I never thought it was too much to ask.  The only thing a child cannot see it the long term effects of their actions.  That is where adults are supposed to do their jobs.  They are supposed to teach children what they do today will affect the quality of the life they live in the future.  My parents only saw their immediate and often self-serving needs.  It was never about teaching me to be a functioning adult.  I was born to them with the sole purpose of fulfilling their needs.  The ensuing damage was not their problem. 

On this particular day, my father was forcing me to suck his dick.  I know I could use more acceptable terms, but those acceptable terms diminishes what he did to me.  It was vile, and vile terms should be used.  When I fell to my knees crying, he pulled me back to a standing position and grabbed my curly hair, pulling my head to his hard cock.  I already knew the routine, and soon disassociated.  He slapped my face if I objected.  I dried my tears and went to work, taking his cock into my little mouth.  I heard his moaning as I separated from being myself to being “the girl” and my soul flew out of my body.  Some of what occurred next I am writing into the character of my book, “untitled” so we will skip to what happened after. 

My mother walked in as my father came to orgasm.  As predicted, my mother saw the ejaculate on my face and slapped me hard.  From that day on, she hated me, just as my father had told me she would.  I was devastated.  I had now lost the love of my father, but my mother as well.  No one loved what was now referred to as “the girl.”  Not only had I disassociated, but I referred to myself in a persona that did not exist. I no longer wanted to be a part of the girl, and the disassociated soul left the proximity of my body and flew farther away than it ever had before.   

I flew higher and higher, into the blue sky, seeing the colors of earth with more clarity than I ever imagined.  My soul had no intention of returning to “the girl.”  I was free and without pain for the first time in my six short years.  I wasn’t going back, and no one was going to make me.  My senses were acute, everything I saw and experienced were surreal, and yet truth rang though the universe.  I flew higher and faster than I had ever imagined, and there was no turning back.  My parents were Atheists, so I had no predisposition to religious indoctrination.  What I experienced next was without a predetermined prejudice.  As I flew, I felt free and pure for the first time in my life.   There was no “good” and no “evil” as my limited knowledge knew.  There was only color and freedom.  My spirit was light and free from sorrow and pain.  “The girl” knew nothing but sorrow and pain.  Everything about “the girl” was terror.  I only knew freedom from pain and sorrow the higher I flew. 




The only certainty was that I was not going back.  Higher and higher I flew, faster than I had ever imagined.  All of a sudden, I felt love like I had never experienced before.  It was above me, beside me and through me all at once.  It surrounded me and brought me into the center of love and acceptance.  I had no physical body, and neither did this love.  Peace permeated me.  I couldn’t escape it if I tried, but of course, I didn’t want to try.  I wanted to stay there forever, never returning to the pain I felt as “the girl.”  I felt home, and I was staying. 

A voice, neither male nor female said in no particular tone “You must go back.”  It was not a demand, just a simple and unimposing statement.  I immediately declared “I’m not going back and you can’t make me!”  The voice said again with the same tone, patience and love “You must go back.”  I looked around for who was saying this to me, but just I had no body, neither did the voice.  “I am not going back!  No one loves the girl.”  The presence was everywhere around me, and through me, a part of me all at once.  I was confused.  I have never felt such pure love flowing around and through me before, nor have I felt it in the 42 years since.  Still, I rebelled.  I was not going back to a life of pain and terror. That would not be my choice.  The voice replied in the same tone “I love the girl.”  Being the skeptical child I was, I demanded “Who? Who loves the girl? Show yourself!”  I looked for a body, a person, proof I was loved. All I knew was this presence consumed me and everywhere though and around me was love, peace and acceptance.  I never wanted to leave and I wasn’t going to.  The voice said again “I love the girl and you must go back.”  Again I refused, yelling in a panic “No! No one loves the girl and I won’t go back!”  This time it was with fear, for I knew this being was more powerful than I could imagine, and it had the power to make me go back to a life of unspeakable and unrelenting pain. All it would say was “I love the girl and you must go back.”

Before I knew what was happening, an invisible hand scooped up my soul and forced me back into the body of the girl.  I screamed as this force pushed my soul back into my body, to no avail.  When I became part of the girl again, I was accepting.  I knew I had no power, and no choices.  I did, however, resolve to spend the rest of my life searching for what the rest of the world would term as “God.”  The more I learned about “God” and from all the religious texts I read in the following decades, I knew what we had been marketed was not the truth.  The truth of “God” was infinitely more than what we have imagined, and to date, I am one of the few people who have born witness to the inherent beauty of what the afterlife and truth is.  I have developed a theory after all this time, and it joins some of the tenements of all religion with the scientific facts we also know as truth.   Science and religion are compatible, and it will shake the foundations of the most profitable business in the world.  Christianity has been marketed to us by white males, and the biases of those people have distorted with their own prejudice what the universal truth is.  There is no greater evil than money and power, and religion has extorted both to incite horrific crimes against truth. 

Now that I have told you how I met “God,” the next installments will explain why “God” is not an accurate term, nor is “Higher Power.”  There is no word I have discovered to describe what I saw when I was six, nor the being I have been in contact with in the years following.  The religious texts did not get it all wrong, though.  In the Bible, Moses demands a name and he receives the answer “I am what I am.”  That is not far from the truth, but it is as accurate as we were willing to accept at the time.  The Atheists are not all wrong, either.  There is not a “God.”  What exists is more beautiful and loving than we can imagine.

After I was reinstated to my body, I was not permitted to fly again until I was twenty five years old.  I was bound to my body, unable to even disassociate.   I had to learn what dangers were possible when the soul flies from the body, and how to use that gift for the service of the greater good.  Unfortunately, without disassociation, I was unable to remember anything else my father did to me until the Spirit believed me wise enough to understand flying and the knowledge of the ages.  I was imprisoned, and I was unaware of the bars until the knowledge was restored to me.  The story of rediscovering flying when I was twenty five is for another time; for it serves no real purpose in the vision of what awaits our souls upon death, or the future that awaits our soul in eternity.  All I can say at the moment is nothing here on earth can describe the love, acceptance and enormity of what we have named “God.”  It is so much better than being a “God,” and science as we know it, confirms what I have learned.  It is not about faith so much as it is about living in a manner consistent with a desire to transition back to our origins.