I dove into a World of Make Believe, changing from one past life to another while underwater and on land yesterday.
Water provided a secure medium to “lose” myself, particularly after a trying day. Just floating in a pool, preferably an indoor heated one, can fuel the imagination, sending me back to the womb. That place my “consciousness” was first tickled upon re-entering the physical world after “living” in what Tibetans call the Bardo awaiting a new “birthday.” A world of fantasy? Perhaps. But Lamas say it is where souls recently released from their “bodily” duties get to pick a better life wisely.
In this undilluted world, I enjoy the fluid movements of my body. Legs? No. They’re more like fins. With all the wiggle room one can imagine in four feet of water. I’d glide toward the edge of an Olympic-size pool, then turn just like a Gold Fish, expertly maneuvering myself through the length of the pool, swimming a total of 18 round-trip voyages, a good half mile.
At first I become a Kafka like creature, not the type that scurries on a kitchen floor late at night when a light switch is turned on. But, a larger one, able to not only survive, but evolve in a liquid world around me. I’ll still be around after nuclear nightmare wipes out mankind. I’m a brown roach, or the great-grandfather of one of those creepy crawlies. A crawfish-type being that lives happily in the murky bottom of the sea, content with nothing more than soil beneath my “feelers” and the ocean current pushing and pulling of my “Mr. Crabs” body, thank you very much, Sponge Bob Square Pants.
I had to “progress” to reach that point. You see, at one time I was no more than part of a coral ridge. I w a s the coral! Enjoyed every century of my existence, never worrying from where my next meal would appear — the nutrients in the water fed me — or be concerned about moving from one home to another. I was my home. Got such a kick out of objects that came into contact with me, rubbing up against one side and then the other, almost caressing me, if you know what I mean. Had no way of defending myself against the more intrusive phenomena like landmasses from above occasionally crashing boulder-like onto me as the Earth’s Plates would shift and hit me upside the head.
Seaweed provided me a completely different life style, as I’d float up and down, back and forth like a ballerina whipping my “tentacles” where ever a turbulent wave moved me. So graceful. So freeing. So green!
Soon, I moved up, breaking away from the past and “swimming” with fins and dorsals and something that only recently was perfected, called “eyes.” I could see. One eye on both side of my fish face. See you coming and going, but with a little difficulty if you swam directly in front of me. And, I forgot. the “Evoluter” as we called our Creator, had not worked out the kinks for “brows” so we got by without eyebrows. Or lids. Or the ability to ever blink and close our eyes. You ever try to meditate this way? Easier for a fish to swim upstream than to raise a level of consciousness with eyes wide open.
Seahorse? I tried it. Had a helluva lot of fun playing in herds and “neighing” above water. Enjoying ourselves and caring for each other is what Life is all about, no matter what type of being you find yourself acting up with. And it’s all a role we play, first adapting with the environment, our parents, if you will, until breaking away to survive in deeper water, always knowing Love could get us through, while understanding would eventually surface if we were compassionate enough.
Even for you, you big Ape. I’m sorry. That wasn’t intended for you, but for me. I once walked on all fours after learning to crawl onto the ground. Never quite learned what to do with my arms and the appendages humans would eventually call hands. I’d let ’em drag on the ground. Knuckles faced forward, actually in a supporting role as I’d sit with my butt on a tree stump and let it all hang out. I could run on those knuckles just like the other four-legged critters around me did in this Brave New Forrest. No need to develop any further.
Don’t be a Dodo, someone once advised. Look what happened when you tried! Oh sure, you could relieve all tension from your shoulders by doing away with arms. Walk like a man with legs but have no use for those side order of wings others smaller than me would perfect into flying abilities. Who needs flight? I’m made more of Spirit and Love than this short-lived body of Dodo Bird. I’m a cross between our feathery flying friends and and “land lubbers,” built to last forever.
What an adventure I had at the LA Fitness pool in Philadelphia’s Andorra section! I bubbled into Life, emerging in each sentient being, feeling connected to ’em as if I had actually been one of them before. At another time. Another place. A past life? One of many I may have lived before this evolutionary point? Who knows. Let me but float this idea for anyone who might want to row with it.