Excerpt: Playing God

This time, my return was different. Instead of immediately and disconcertingly finding myself back on my world, I floated instead in a sort of limbo. I couldn’t move myself, I couldn’t see anything. Fighting down a building panic, I tried to think logically.

I had no physical power. That must mean that I’m not on a physical plane. I wasn’t feeling emotions . . . I wasn’t on a soulful plane. I didn’t think I was on a spiritual plane either. I guessed that it was a mental plane, and I wondered what I was doing there. Mother Keichaz returns to her world, I tried. It didn’t work.

Suddenly, I felt another conscience overlap with mine. I felt small and insignificant . . . there was something within this mind which made me realize that I now knew nothing and yet everything that I needed. Concepts flooded into my mind at alarming speed. I wasn’t speaking with the other presence, yet it was still communication.

The presence wasn’t human. That much was obvious. And yet it existed on every plane. It infiltrated everything, but it wasn’t everything. It was the worlds themselves, but yet it was the thing which created and sustained life.

I knew immediately that this conscience . . . this presence . . . this knowledge was God. But God wasn’t a person to me. It was a Secret, wrapped in mysteries and enigmas, but still there, pulsating at the core of every element in existence. Maybe he was his own plane, one that permeated all else. In the magical plane, he was the Source. In the relational plane, he was the personal God. In the mental plane, he was the Secret. He was everything and anything.

I wondered what the Secret planned to do in order to save us. As soon as I had the notion to think the thought, I had the answer.

Perhaps the answer wasn’t the same for everyone. Maybe it changed throughout life. But I knew what it was for me now. It wasn’t something that I could explain – it was greater than words; greater even than concepts or ideals. It was something one had to experience to fully enjoy.

I knew that, as long as I live, I will be changed. It, however, wasn’t the sort of change that you tell someone about. It was the change where it shined through everything you did. You were obviously different somehow, but no one could pinpoint the exact source of the alteration.

That was how I felt. New, refreshed, and rejuvenated . . . but still me.