Meditation

I floated, aware but unthinking, alive but unsurpressed, in a seas of amniotic possibilities. I felt unthinkably wonderful and undeniably tragic scenarios waiting to be allowed to manifest, stretching endlessly all around me in a web of intricate choices.1

Time moves in this way, my awareness occupied so that I could not tell you if a minute or a year passed. Nourished, sustained by an ulterior force, loved though I didn’t know it, I think time passed. No event ever occurred, no outstanding miracle, except, I sensed, the miracle of my existence. But nothing happened for me to measure my internal clock against, so the hands kept tick-tick-ticking inside me, the ticks piling up in a mound of development and maturing and I knew I was lucky to have been chosen for this. My closed eyes saw only the play of brainlights on my eyelids.2

Then.3

The pain. Despite my detachment, it infiltrated my silent peace and though I knew I would survive, (what justice is there in the world if one can be aware of the possible and not get to experience it), I feared the sterile pain that pulled me towards the unknown. Nameless fear found a name, my peace disrupted by chaos masquerading as nature's plan, speeding me to fuzzy unknowable.4

After an eternity of awareness, each second feeling like the time I had had before the pain, it ended.5

The room I entered into had flat walls and a ceiling. Bright burning white fiery light hurt my skin. For the first time, the surrounding space was filled by a mood that was not my own. My eyelids squinched and the brainlights went dark.6

Papery crinkles carried me to warm arms, chaotic center of two worlds that I was. The arms in the sterile world I had entered gave me a feeling of the one I had so recently left, the peaceful chaos masked by a thin veneer of order.7

So I was born.8

Naïve, huddled, naked, enlightened, I entered the world.9

At least I’m still naïve.10