It’s hard to breathe. I’m shaking – can’t quite keep my hands still. I feel you – all of you. An overwhelming wall of energy I just blindly tumbled into, without realising it. And now – now I’ve curled up in a little corner, holding myself. There are so many questions why. There’s anger, there’s disappointment – but most of all I think it’s fear.
It takes me a moment to understand what is happening. This wall of energy is not mine – and when egos go into flight or fight mode it’s a powerful thing – except it’s an illusion. I know this too – and so I’m disappointed that I’m feeling it. My mind cannot control my mind.
I take a deep breath and let go. It’s easy to forget that I’m not alone – and I am not alone. I’m never alone. The voices of the other realm are soothing – but most of all their unconditional love pierce the wall I’m struggling with.
I’m kicking upwards now – as if that dense energy is a large inky body of water. Angry torrents spin around me, creating amazingly beautiful patterns where they twirl by. In a way I think they are trying to stop me, but I keep going.
Then the torrents give up and I find myself in tranquillity – it’s still the dark water, and I know I’m not through – but it’s so pleasant to slow my pace.
To let my soul, catch up. To breathe. At first, I think this is a lifeless place – like a dead ocean, but then I spot the sea anemones, small fish – and maybe that one hiding over there is a camouflaged octopus.
It’s not much light that reaches us down here, but the fact that I can see tells me a surface exists somewhere far above me.
I’m tempted to linger – to watch the small creatures longer – their games of predator and prey.
But I can’t – this is not where I belong. I know this, even if the ego tries to persuade me otherwise.
Resolutely I turn upwards and kick hard. There’s so much resistance – I must stop many times on my way. Breathe. I’ve gotten through the torrents; I’ll get through this too. And I do. When I stop fighting, I surface to find a grey day waiting, and the waves toss me like a weightless float. A dizzy spell – I blink to clear my vision and my numbed and seduced mind. I think I have a headache coming, slowly wrapping its tentacles around my straining brain. I look around, wondering if maybe I can spot land somewhere – or a ship.
I’m not too keen on floating around like shark kibble – if there are sharks – I’m not familiar with these waters.
A sudden large shadow catches my attention and I look up – momentarily stunned. A large white eagle is hovering above me – I’m not sure if this means help or if I’m prey. I remain still and trepidation fills me. Right, I’m not alone. When I remember to breathe again, the voices from the other realm return.
There’s trust, and hope – there’s faith. I gaze at the white eagle again, seeing it as if for the first time. There’s nothing threatening about it, in fact, all I’m feeling is love – and then I dare to reach for it.
With a shockingly steep dive it races towards me and scopes me up. Either I’m tiny, or the eagle is very large. Its talons hold me tightly, and maybe it will bruise me, but I prefer this to helplessly dropping from the sky.
We travel higher and higher, through the sticky clouds, and then my oncoming headache suddenly fades. An unexpected wave of relief washes over me.
That was brave, you know, the eagle says in my mind.
It was? I reply hesitantly.
Fear is a strange thing. It catches us unaware at times. Becomes the torrents, the depths and whatnot. Bespells our minds – takes our will away. But we are stronger than this – all of us. This wisdom is yours now.
I’ve never thought of it this way, I reply. That fear takes my will away. That fear has this sort of power over me – and who controls the fear? – if it’s someone else it means that they are controlling me. I’m not prepared to part with my own free will. In this life it seems it’s the only thing that’s truly mine. Everything else may come and go – but not the choices I make because I want to, because I can – because I have this power. My own free will.
We land above a steep cliff face, towards which the waves are pushing their shoulders – as in a strange unspoken competition. The air is filled with a salty mist and the wind twirls my hair. I’m sore where the eagle’s talons gripped me, and I rub my ribs absently.
Had you planned to swim to shore? it questions me.
I didn’t really plan at all. I just needed to get out, I say, wondering if I should have thought this through.
It’s fortunate that you remembered to call me, the eagle says thoughtfully.
Oh, I reply, not sure if I really did.
The majestic bird sits next to me, and we stare at the steely ocean and its play. I’m not convinced it’s really an ocean at all.
Anneli von Knorring
Transcendental Author and Poet – Read more from Anneli here.
Article published in More to Life Edition 59.
