I’ve just made a new page called Awakenings, to explore stories of Awakenings, Enlightenments or Realizations…
Adrial and Teo’Na have asked me (Leslee) to share mine to get the ball rolling, so I’ll do that here (and here’s a post of it, too).
If you’d like to share yours, please feel free to do so as a comment. or if you think you need more space, please email it to me and I’ll create a post for it! (my email address is email@example.com)
We look forward to hearing your story!
(Leslee’s Story) (Ghost Radar words appear like [this])
[magic off themselves doesn’t you’ve threw camp studied run]
What is an Awakening?
But some dear friends recently advised me to share an experience, so I will.
Almost exactly 13 years ago, I was married, mothering a happy toddler, living in a house my husband and I had just built, reporting each day to a good job with a very reputable firm, driving an almost-new SUV, and taking particular enjoyment in my gardening…
…and drinking way too much.
Something was quietly eating away at me, like a half-forgotten item on a to-do list.
I had begun reading Deepak Chopra and Caroline Myss, and was beginning to wonder if perhaps my subtle discontent was not caused by others… Perhaps there was something I needed to change in myself in order to feel happy.
I hadn’t read much on spiritual and metaphysical topics since the late 80’s. I had sort of sworn that off as a lot of wishful thinking that wasn’t likely to lead to much of real value… But it was a nice distraction.
In 1999, though, Spirituality seemed to offer some solace and hope… I was trying to understand how on Earth I could feel so restless and agitated when I seemed to enjoy so many of the things that so many people dreamed of… And I sure wasn’t finding the answers on my own.
The more I read, the more I felt I was getting closer to some answers. I tried not to focus too much on my husband’s lack of interest in where I was going. After all, spirituality had not been part of the foundation of our relationship, so it wasn’t “reasonable” for me to expect him to jump on that train with me.
[slightly fed sad disease our another usually fifth bare blew total caught selection loud half]
[rain shells riding you’d situation]
I began having some vivid, other-worldly dreams that I remembered in great detail. They seemed to be trying to tell me or [worry Asia cage] remind me of something. I noticed a deep subtle yearning that I could neither understand or describe.
Then, in July 1999, while sleeping late on a typical Sunday morning at home, my world broke wide open… But I was the only person in the house who knew about it.
Out of the undefined darkness of deep sleep, my awareness arose, staring at my two hands. It was as if I was trying to recognize them, understand what they were for… There was nothing else in my field of vision, and I couldn’t see beyond my wrists.
As I turned them over to look at my palms, another pair of hands appeared to the upper left. Radiantly pulsing with brilliant white light, they moved towards mine. They were not blindingly bright, but seemed to be made of pure light, no physical substance whatsoever. They reached down, and taking my hands, folded [cross anything when equally] them together, palms crossed, while also completely enveloping them in their glow.
In an instant, all awareness both exploded and dissloved into brilliant light.
It wasn’t white, [name] it wasn’t colored… [southern] It was indescribable, other than that I knew it [forward] was light. It had no spatial or temporal characteristics; [arm] I simply knew that This – whatever it was – was the Source and Nature of Everything. I understood that somehow, everything arises from This. It was like [buy] being shown where to go to find whatever was needed.
I have no idea how long I was there.
At some point, some very vague objects arose just partially, and I had a faint awareness of flying and being shown keys to things. I became aware that, from this State, awareness could place itself in the midst of anything, and understand that thing infinitely.
I saw that worlds are mere illusions, arising out of this vast ocean of Emptiness, and they’re layered and intertwined in one another. I saw that minds and beings exist in the same way: pulsing, arising to appear briefly, transform, blend, and dissolve back into Emptiness.
There’s nothing but Oneness, because in this way it all arises – spontaneously – from Source.
Creator simply arises as an awareness from Source… God – or gods – may arise, spontaneously, or from sound generated by Source.
Beings and worlds may arise or be built from Source, or they may simply arise spontaneously in an instant.
In this way, “we” are all here by choice as reflections of OurSelf. We are Source, we are Creator, we are “God”.
Eventually, my awareness faded into near-awareness, and then into the black darkness and so on. I never completely lost consciousness, and at some point I could “feel”, and realized my mind was returning to my body. There was a sensation of energy like electricity coursing through a circuit. Then it felt like a tingling, and eventually that tingling was contained by matter (flesh). Some time after that I [represent] began to recognize the flesh as fingers and toes, and then I could feel the fingers and toes were touching bedclothes.
Gradually, my body awareness traveled along my limbs to my torso, then my head, until I could [nature] feel my cheek against [sky] the sheet. I still felt like a disorganized cacophony of vibration and matter, and some time passed before I could wiggle my toes or open my eyes.
When I decided to look around, I fully expected to see a completely different world than the one in which I’d last lain down in bed. I continued to bask in the radiant bliss of dissolution, and I was anticipating, hope upon hope, that when I opened my eyes I would behold the answers to all my remaining questions.
I was disappointed.
It was the same room, and it was empty. I could faintly hear the TV playing downstairs and knew by the sunlight in the room that it was probably nine o’clock.
I didn’t smell any breakfast cooking.
It took a while before I could bring myself to roll over and sit up, much less get dressed and go downstairs. My body still felt like I’d been electrocuted, with an intense bliss coursing up and down my spine. I had never experienced such an intense arousal without wanting to touch or be touched.
I sat on the edge of the bed, closed my eyes, and went back, mentally, over what had happened.
What was that?
Whose hands were those?
I had to find that “person”… I needed answers.
To be honest, I can’t remember if I even told my husband about it at the time. I think I may have tried… But I felt instinctively that there was no way to convey the impact of that experience to a person who wasn’t even interested in what I’d been reading.
My body continued to buzz regularly – but randomly – for about 3 weeks. I began to meditate, hoping for a repeat experience. But day-to-day life was split between my inner experiences and the roles I was trying to continue to fulfill on the “outside”. I was just beginning to use the Internet, and had very little free time. So the best chance I had of learning more about my experience was through visiting bookstores. I found lots of descriptions, but none really resonated completely with what I had come to know.
My search was broad: I had a lot of questions. I think I felt that if I could find some answers, I could file the experience away neatly, integrate it with my other experiences, and get on with life. But it seemed that every rock overturned yielded maybe one answer and 2-3 more questions.
It got harder and harder to pretend to live a “normal” life, and harder and harder to share my life and space with such a “normal” person as my husband. Even more challenging [clock] was the effort to show up at work for 8 or more hours a day and act like a “normal” architect.
Somehow, though, my son seemed to fit right into my new puzzle. Maybe it was the autism, maybe it was his natural sensibility [art]… maybe it was [worried] an instance of a teacher [firm] appearing as a child in my life to set me back on track…
Now, in 2012, with much water under the bridge, I sometimes still wonder: “Awake yet?”
I dunno. I’m still here… It seems.
Maybe I’m at least stirring in my sleep…