6am.
The vibratory sensations come on strong and I am relieved to be one step closer to actual sleep. First I have to endure this out-of-body experience and then I will sleep sleep sleep.
It feels very dark in my room. Eden is pressed up against my back, which makes me feel safer somehow. An unseen, unfelt force pushes my hip one way until my entire astral body is spinning within my physical. Then it is very suddenly propelled upward and out, and this is all without my permission or will. I consider aborting the experience, but I remind myself, like last time, that I have never been hurt in any way by these mysterious forces. So I submit.
I arrive in a new reality, hovering over Chuckanut Bay in the darkest part of night. There's a full moon hanging in the sky, just like the one I saw before bed. I see Chuckanut Mountains in the distance and the glistening water below my feet. I take a second glance. Below my feet. I am completely surprised by the sight of my legs and feet. It's just mostly just a dark silhouette, but I am so surprised. They move and hover the way they should. I feel a fondness for my toes. Seeing this image startles me into reconsidering that these out of body experiences actually could be real. Maybe real in a different sense than I had originally believed, but real nonetheless. It's been years since I considered this possibility. All it took was seeing my legs and feet and toes.
And of course, as usual my consciousness in this state is strikingly different (yet the same) as my waking consciousness, and as I was leaving this reality I used both hands to flip off the moon. I blame her for keeping me awake. Definitely not something *I* would do.
What I appreciate the most about this experience is that I have developed an ever-strengthening sense of fearlessness about this state of being. It used to shake me to the core with terror. Maybe it's because I am a mother now and I have grown into my role as protector. Or maybe it's because I am tired of being afraid. Whatever it is, I awoke self-satisfied.
