Day 22 - Teenage Astral Projection

This evening, I'm cheating... an excerpt out of book prologue... It's part of a larger context of recounting and normalising spiritual experience from my manuscript for the book 'Spirit Talk'. Please feel free to share your early experiences too...

At age sixteen death became known to me. My best friend’s father died suddenly, and then one evening, after reading a poem to my mother and grandmother about my friend’s experience, I saw my grandma crying. Later, my mum explained that grandma’s last living brother had died in Scotland, and grandma had just received the news.

That night, filled with thoughts of death and passing, I decided to see if I could simulate what it might be like to die. Please, don’t misunderstand; I was not attempting to harm myself. More, I was curious about the process of leaving body. Already, I believed that there was more beyond.

I lay very still, my eyes closed. I thought about lifting up out of my body. I tried to relax and let go of my surroundings. To my great surprise, I found that I experienced an upward motion of rising above my bed. And then, from the height of the ceiling I could see myself lying in my single bed, with my sister sleeping in her bed opposite me. I thought about school and how I would no longer have to attend class. As I rose higher and higher, I thought about my friends and how I would never see them again. I moved beyond my house, into the sky, and out into darkness that was a deep, expansive blackness. Rising higher, I thought about my family and how I would never again be with them and I felt such sorrow. Grief caught in a sob that did not come because as quickly as it emerged so too it was replaced with a profound sense of love. And I realised that it was no longer merely dark, but that all around me pinpoints of light glowed. It was nearly another thirty years before I met with those beings of light in that way again.

At first I thought them stars but then I felt them. I could not say then what they were only that I knew them to be sentient. I knew them to be alive, and to be turned towards me. And the love I felt at that moment was vast. And a new sob emerged for the wonder and peace of that love. It felt familiar and I felt welcome as if it was a homecoming, but that sense had no sooner begun than it was interrupted. A deep, resounding voice that at once spoke with unreserved authority and unprecedented love, seemingly from no-where and everywhere, said: ‘It is not your time Karolyne. Go back’. And I was suddenly falling, fast, as if being sucked back into my body. I could feel a pulling at the back of my head, akin to taking off on an aeroplane. And there I was, back in my bed, giddy, left with a fading sense of that immense love and connection, and a sudden feeling of deep loneliness.

This experience seemed to be a catalyst for other spiritual occurrences, and looking back, had the effect of opening my psychic senses, at least a little way. The next major event came as what the Jungians call a life dream.

A well-regarded analyst told me once that we often only get one such dream in a lifetime, though sometimes more, depending on our life trajectories. At the time of writing, I have had two with the second being a sequel to the first, some twenty-eight years apart.

How do we know it as a life dream? Well, it has a feel about it, a profundity that is not like other dreams. In mine, Mother Mary took my hand and led me on a path...

The life dream reaches in and tells a tale of your inner experiences, trials and lessons and often as a foretelling, before they have even been physically experienced. It is the connecting of Spirit, perhaps our very own spirit, at the time when the veils are thinnest; a visitation that embeds a dream. The dream is a telling. It tells what is and what will be; a map of sorts, with signs and signals, roads and paths that must be found and walked along the way. …