"Mother Earth." Art by Ruta Dumalakaite
I walk
through the woods
on Earth
in the Milky Way Galaxy.
There's another me,
walking toward me
but we can't see each other.
She lives on Earth
in the Milky Way Galaxy
but she's in another dimension.
Or timeline,
whatever you want to call it.
Maybe she's me
but walking toward me on Earth in 1987
while I'm walking toward her in 2017.
Maybe I'm Indian and she's Mexican.
Maybe I'm brown and she's colorless.
Maybe I'm deaf and she's blind.
Maybe I'm young and she's old.
Maybe I'm older and she's younger.
Maybe I'm a woman and s/he is a man.
Maybe I'm human and s/he is not.
I am her/him, s/he is me.
We are the same person
albeit split into
two dimensions
/alternate timelines
/alternate universes
/alternate realities
We don't know each other,
we have never met.
But I know s/he's there,
I know s/he knows about me.
Sometimes when strange things occur, it feels as there's been an accidental slip in the universe and something happens in my life that's not supposed to happen to me, but should have happened to HER in HER dimension/timeline. There's been a slight glitch in the universe processing itself simply because it cannot cope with too many souls—nay, zillions of souls—like a computer straining to process and operate after too many files opened and used.
In Robert Monroe's book, Journeys out of the Body (1971), he writes of going out of his body, doing a 180 degree turn, and enters into another dimension. In that dimension, everything on Earth is different. There are cars, but they aren't cars like ours. They have different automation systems that even he, an expert in aeronautics and engineering, is unable to figure out. The roads and houses look strange, nothing like from his own dimension. As he walks ahead, looking around, he walks into a house and discovers that he's married to a woman he's never seen before. She announces that she wants a divorce and she's not happy with the marriage. He's confused and understands none of this. He decides to go back into his body and re-emerge into his own dimension to get out of this baffling, confusing experience.
Is it just a dream?
Or a legit out-of-body experience into another dimension?
Or is this physical reality all just an illusion and we're all living in a dream state and when we fall asleep and have a "dream," we actually become awakened in that dream-state?
In Plato's writings, he wrote that when we die, we become truly conscious, aware, and free.
In the Egyptian Book of the Dead, they wrote of ba, the human soul, existing after death.
In the Tibetan Book of the Dead, they wrote of humans emerging toward the light upon physical death.
To the other me in the other dimension, I ask you:
Do we only have one dimension, one timeline, one universe?
Do we only have one layer of the world—the physical reality that I live in?
Is there another layer of the world—the physical reality that you live in, right now,
in 1987 or 1657 or 77 BC?
Are there two layers,
three layers,
four layers,
or millions and millions of layers?
Are there a million of other me's
in these layers?
I look in the mirror,
I reach out to myself
The other me
in the other
dimension
/alternate timeline
/alternate universe
/alternate reality
I call out for her,
I speak to her
Or him
Or it
Hear me, feel me.
You get me?
There are multiple layers of dimensions
In some cultures, they call it Heaven
Seven levels of Jannat, but maybe there's more
Others call it "astral."
Remember:
when you die,
you don't die.
You exist outside of your body,
your consciousness survives.
You, the essence of your soul,
leave your body,
you move toward the light,
you feel at peace.
Remember:
when you move to the light,
you must keep moving,
keep rising up
to the higher levels
of the astral realm.
Don't stay in one place.
There are more places
to go,
to see.
Like Earth,
The astral realm has many places to explore,
levels to work up to.
Like a video-game,
the astral realm has places
you must earn points to enter.
Meditate,
Enrich,
Engrow,
Elevate,
Illuminate
yourself.
When I die,
she dies, too.
When my body expires,
hers expire, too.
When I get killed in a bombing,
she gets blown up to bits.
When I drown into a pool,
she falls into the ocean from a cliff.
When I get stabbed,
she gets shot.
When she dies,
I die, too.
I walk toward her in the woods in 2017
In 1987, she walks toward me in the woods
A red leaf blows through our path.
We both bend down to pick up the leaf,
Our hands touch
Our minds blend
I see a flash of her
She sees a flash of me
We brush it off
As wandering thoughts
And continue wandering through the woods.
