So, yesterday’s bonding exercise was Hearing Attunement 3.
As I didn’t have any questions to ask, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about. WhoooBOY was there.
He asked me what I thought about Death. That’s… a pretty big topic.
I started with the easy stuff. I died, physically, when I was hit by a car when I was 9. I was dead for over five minutes. It was the most wonderful, peaceful five minutes of my life to date. I found myself in a place that was black. There was no pain. There was no anger or hate or fear. There was no sound. There was no light. For an undiagnosed autistic girl, it was pretty much heaven. Imagine a world where everything is always too bright, always too colorful, always too loud, always too MUCH. Where people are too abrasive, they expect too much, and because you can speak in complete sentences, they don’t understand any peculiarities you have. Autism for me was an invisible disease. When I got overwhelmed by the abuse, got overwhelmed by my emotions, or just plain got overwhelmed for no reason I could determine, I had this need for space. If there was anything touching me, I threw it. And then I found the nearest wall, and rocked my forehead against it until I bled. It made people leave me alone, but it also gave me a point of focus – a HARD point of focus. I was HERE. Right HERE.
And that made things go still.
It’s not unlike a cutter needing a physical focus to express (as in send out) their emotional pain in a way that they can grasp… only for me, hitting my head against a wall wasn’t about the pain, so much as it was about trying to control the violence inside me.
For me, autism is violence. Everything is sometimes just too much, it’s so overwhelming… it’s violent. The whole world is violently THERE, and I can’t cope.
I don’t bang my head anymore… but the pain still exists.
Except when I was dead for those five minutes.
I understand, as an adult, that without all the negatives in that void, there was also no positive. There was no love in the void. There was ONLY peace… but when you find something that you need that badly, you don’t care about what’s missing. You only want to stay.
When they brought me back, it was a violent return. I was awake, on a street, in the daylight, surrounded by my entire neighborhood. I was being touched by strangers. I don’t remember the ambulance ride. They put me in a room with red lights, and they kept touching me, and everywhere they touched me it HURT… they thought I was screaming because I was frightened. My mother kept saying everything was ok, that they were just getting x-rays, but I couldn’t talk, and there were strangers TOUCHING ME, HURTING ME… and NO ONE WOULD STOP. Nothing was ok.
I was in the hospital for three days. Dad brought complete strangers to my room, apparently friends of his. They gave me a stuffed rabbit, because it was Easter weekend. I threw up on it.
I don’t remember the ride to the hospital. I don’t remember sleeping there. I don’t remember the nurses or the doctors. I remember the red room, and the pain. I remember waking up on the street, and I remember being in a hospital bed meeting strangers and throwing up on a yellow bunny. That’s all I remember of the weekend I died and came back.
Well, all I remember after the dark.
I miss the dark. I don’t think I ever won’t.
So… We talked about that.
We talked about my experiences in the Wastes – a spiritual and emotional death… and how that death affected me here. We talked about that kind of darkness… which was NOT peaceful. Then again, I wasn’t exactly at rest. People in the Wastes are not at rest.
I brought up my migraines – the ones I had before I died my second and third deaths. The ones that had me screaming, writhing, begging for death, an animal in a trap. We talked about how Death Means Stop.
I talked about the fact that Death Means Stop is pretty much a perfect cure for any phobia.
I went to California to see a friend when she was separating from her husband. On the way home, the plane suddenly stopped flying, and just DROPPED. It lasted 20 seconds, and people were praying and holding hands with strangers.
Afterwards, I was terrified of flying… until I remembered my migraines. And then all of the sudden, I realized there were worse things than falling out of a tin can in the sky… and planes stopped being scary at all.
It’s kind of a relief, knowing that someday, I will STOP.
So then he asked me what I thought happened after death, if death means stop.
I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I know what happened when I died at 9, so there’s that. I didn’t stop existing.
And I have memories of other lifetimes, both earthly and other. SO many memories. Sometimes that’s a bit overwhelming…
But that means that death isn’t the end. It’s… merely a stage. Like… adolescence. It’s not permanent any more than life is.
So he said, “If death means stop, but it’s not permanent, how is that Stop?” To which I said, “It offers immediate relief for immediate problems. Anything else can be solved another day.”
“How practical,” he replied.
Then he asked me what I hoped to learn from him, from my time with him. “I just want to learn. Whatever you’ll teach me. I want to grow. What you’ve helped me with so far… that’s growth I need, growth I want… knowledge I want.”
“Why do you want to know so much?”
“Because people suffer. Not knowing is suffering. We suffer until we learn, and then the suffering stops.”
He asked what I meant by that, because he understood I wasn’t talking about any Buddhist ideals, but he wanted me to clarify myself. So… I did.
I’ve been to hell realms. Not demonic planes, but realms set aside for humans who need help learning, need help to grow, even more than humans here do. The two I went to taught me a lot, though honestly, some of the lessons didn’t sink in until years later.
The first realm, there were towers in the center of lovely fields of close-cut grass. The fields were surrounded by dark forests, but no one ever noticed the trees. People sat out in the sun, and picnicked. They chatted as if nothing was wrong – everything was perfect.
And then, the sun began to set… and everyone packed up their things, and went into the black stone towers. Because when the sun went down, the world froze. A flash freeze. Nothing that was outside the towers survived.
People there learned the rules. They learned to obey the laws of the realm – because if they did not, they died. Immediately. You learned to obey, or you died.
My familiar at the time followed me there. When the sun began to set, as I was heading inside the tower, he ran under the steps and vanished. He left the realm rather than go into the tower. He broke the rules… and I was so terrified for him, that I broke our familiar bond.
I fear for people I care about who do not follow the rules. I fear for them so much, that I would rather cut them out of me, break their hearts, than let the consequences of their rule breaking break MY heart. I can’t watch the people I love suffer… so I won’t let them in, and then I don’t have to.
But that’s its own form of hell.
The second realm I went to, there was only a single person. There was an indoor swimming pool, and in it was an older woman, screaming, panicking, drowning. She couldn’t swim. So, I went in and fished her out. She immediately began to call me devil’s spawn, evil.. so much hate in this woman I had saved.
It was her lesson to learn to either not ask for help, or to accept the help she receives from wherever it comes, and be grateful.
It was my lesson to learn that you do not interfere with other people’s lessons without being forced to learn WHY THEY NEED THE LESSON. It will ALWAYS cost you.
I also learned that people ask for help when they should do for themselves, and don’t ask for help when they can’t do for themselves…. and neither path is healthy.
This is how I learned that people earn their suffering, create it, out of ignorance. And they either learn from it, or they keep suffering, stuck on repeat until they DO learn.
I don’t enjoy suffering. I understand that there are people who have to have suffering. They cannot learn without it. But… I’m ready to move past that. I want to learn, and grow, and not by suffering, but by figuring out where I’m suffering and why… and changing.
So that’s what I want to learn from him.
He then asked me to make some promises.
1) That I do something loving for my husband at least once a week that connects us in an emotional way, comes from my heart, and will be understood by his.
2) That I do something loving for each of my three cats once a week with the same meaning.
3) That I do something for MYSELF once a week that is self-care, showing self-love.
4) That I make slow improvements – right now, I have three basic tasks that I must achieve every day (aside from my meditations each evening). In three weeks, I must add a fourth task, every day. It does not have to be the same task, but I must add a fourth task every day.
Tonight, we were supposed to do the 10th exercise, Visual Sight Attunement 2 – but I came into the session with a migraine, and my familiar is brand new to showing up to every session, so she’s curious, into everything, and highly distracting… and with a migraine making it hard to concentrate to begin with, we decided that tonight was not a good night to work on my visual sight.
Instead, we worked with my other soul.
She has her own soul-home. Today, we worked to incorporate her soul home and mine.
It was fairly successful. My soulhome now has heavy mist from hot pools, and places where there are rivers of lava instead of water. Under the center, her cavern with its bathing pool of lava, has been incorporated, though I did some upgrades, which she liked.
I feel like… my soul home is my domain. It’s not really hers. Even now, with all the changes I’ve made to try and make her feel welcome, it’s not… quite right. It’s not finished. Something’s missing. So, she has her cavern, and it’s hers, even though it’s in my soulscape.
E said that we’re not blending correctly. We’re both afraid of losing ourselves, and so neither of us will give in. He says the only way to win this, is for both of us to lose. We both have to give in, we both have to give up ourselves… and become together, someone ELSE.
Oh… he saw the corpse in her glass coffin. He… didn’t approve. He talked to both of us about it. The thing is, she’s not dead. She’s definitely not alive – there’s no soul, no spirit, there’s nothing to animate the shell that’s in that coffin. But… she’s not dead, either. There’s something about a dead body that is immediately recognizable… and she doesn’t have it, whatever it is. Which means she’s not really a corpse, for all that she’s not alive.
This happens to faeries. But… we never figured out what to do with them… so… I did what my people have always done.
He was… a bit perturbed. Possibly repulsed. And he pointed out that if compartmentalizing her into a graveyard was so toxic, how was putting her in a glass coffin in a cave NOT compartmentalizing, and how was it NOT going to end up ALSO toxic? So… my other soul and I, with his help, decided what we could do about the situation.
And just as we were ready to put our plan in motion…
My familiar began to Kitten again, and yanked me out of meditation so thoroughly that I literally felt it like a shock of cold water. And then E was gone, and that was that.
Which means that tomorrow we’re probably not going to be working on Visual Sight, either. Because this isn’t finished.
Although… I think after tomorrow, I’m going to ask for a night off. This is some heavy work… and while I don’t feel rushed… I feel the need to… take some time and really marinate in what I’ve learned so far… look back on it all and, in a relaxed setting, try and see the whole picture. Get some perspective.
I’m going to make him take me dancing. He’s an excellent dancer, and while I look like a spastic seizure with twelve left feet on a human dance floor, dancing in the Astral is amazingly easy and I love it. Also… he has really, REALLY good brandy… so I think I’m going to drink his brandy and make him dance with me. Dancing with him feels… right.