Wednesday, January 22, 2014
One discrepancy I see in my blog as a whole relates to purpose of expandurmind. I have always stated that this blog is about me, my dreams and their effects on my life, although this was only a part within the whole when I began. My idea then was to make it a combination of my dreams and science-fiction stories I had written. The second post was actually two dreams I had formed into one, about a year before I began the blog. The purpose was to get this published. I did send it out to two publishers, but neither was interested. They never said why.
Friday, June 18, 2010; 6:27 PM, I put it in expandurmind.com as the second post. What caught me by surprise was the response I received in the following weeks, not from my story but from the other dreams. At the time, the only ones to know about my blog were friends and co-workers. They all thought it had been a great idea. Their word of mouth along with mine caused an audience explosion, and the numbers steadily rose, as they still do. Subsequently, I knew where I wanted to take this.
Since then it is the only thing I have focused on, and it has worked out very well, thank you. For those of you who have been here from the beginning, you may see some changes in my older posts. Because of newer members who have joined, I want to tidy the place up a bit. The only real change going back is to make the posts easier to read, such as larger fonts and spaces between lines. One major change is throwing out the second post. I will keep a link to the original story so no one will think I am trying to pull a fast one.
The second part, “Expelling Air”, which is an actual lucid dream will stay on the initial date. The first part which I re-wrote as a science-fiction story will be taken out. To keep expandurmind.com consistent, here is the original out-of-body experience I encountered.
Margaret H. Vincent
Early to mid 1990’s; (OBE)
I stared at a door in front me. Looking behind me, was a sidewalk running along a busy city street. Since I was here, I decided to go in. It was a bar. The place was quiet with dim lighting and a jukebox. I saw two people over at the bar, a bartender and waitress. In the far, corner were two booths, one with an elderly man; his head slumped against the wall and an almost empty pitcher of beer in front of him. He seemed to be passed out so I took the booth across from him. The lone waitress came over and set a bottle of beer in front of me without having to ask. I was going to like the out-of-body experience.
“Is the old man O.K.?” I asked her, pointing at the man in the next booth whom I had not seen move at all since I sat down.
“Oh yeah,” she smiled, “that’s Drunken Jack. He drinks until he passes out then in about an hour or two he’ll wake up and go home. Don’t worry,” she said, “He won’t bite.” At that, she left me alone.
I found myself staring over at Drunken Jack in his booth, picking out things such as his glass or the napkin holder. I had been staring when suddenly I spotted bubble inches away from Jack’s face. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
The object dropped to the table making a loud noise as it struck solidly, informing me it was not a bubble. At that moment, Drunken Jack popped out of his slumber. With a dazed and confused look in his face, he tried sitting up. After briefly looking around, he quickly grabbed the sides of the table in both his hands, causing, what I call a marble to roll around the table’s top. Frantic, he released one side of the table and scrambled to catch it, knocking over his pitcher, spilling what little beer was left into his lap. He had the marble clutched tightly holding his left hand while still holding the table with his right.
“Are you O.K.?” I asked.
Wavering back and forth in his seat, he tried to focus but found it difficult. He shook his head a few times. Taking his gaze from me to the surroundings of the bar, he seemed not to know where he was.
“What sort of vehicle is this? It moves in a strange way.” He said, looking at me. I gave him a moment to collect himself. I hoped even in his state of mind, a little sense would come back, and I would not have to be bothered with him. Still clutching the table and his marble, he asked, “Are we in a ground or space transport?”
“You’re the one traveling man, whether it’s ground or space only you would know that,” I answered. The old man looked rough and worn; life and time had not been good to him so, I left my booth and walked over to his. I pulled a handful of napkins from the dispenser. Throwing a few on the table to soak up his drink, I placed the rest in front of him.
“Here, you might want to throw some on your lap.” I turned to go wanting to see more than the inside of a bar while in the dimension.
“Please, stay,” he said, “This transports movements throw me off balance.”
“O.K.” I answered, thinking, I’ll sit here long enough to finish my drink than act as though I’m going for another and slip out the door.
I sat across from him as he once again studied his surroundings. The waitress had said earlier that he came here often, but right now he seemed to be unfamiliar with the place.
“You said, I was the only one traveling, so you’re aware of where I’m from?”
“Well,” I stated, “I’m not too sure where you’re from but any more drinks, and I can only guess where you’ll be headed.”
He slowly released his grip on the table and peered into the now empty pitcher, while eying the bottom, he took in several deep sniffs.
“I feel as though I’m in a state of constant shifting. Is this artificial gravity… perhaps it’s not working right?”
“Gravity’s just fine, maybe you should take a break for a while.” I reached over and took the pitcher from him before the last few drops ended up in my lap.
“A break from what? I just got here” he said.
“From your drinking.” He seemed to become even more curious about the pitcher, eying it with great wonder.
“Is my shifting caused by this drink?”
“Yeah, and I’d say anymore, and you’ll be shifting all afternoon.”
“Remarkable!” he reasoned with wide blood shot eyes, “A culture with a drink that allows dimensional transference?” He lifted the marble he had in his grasp in front of his face and shook his head. “And we thought we were advanced. What would it be worth to you for me to get the recipe for this, that is if you have any knowledge of the ingredients? A trade of knowledge perhaps.” Although he still fought to keep his balance, he babbled on as though he were sober.
“You seem to be doing OK.” I said, “So I’ll just mosey on outta here.”
I got up to leave and he rushed from the booth, “Wait!” he yelled.
He lost his balance and before I could intervene, he fell to the floor, the marble rolling away from him. I saw that he was not hurt then reached out to pick up his marble, but he let out a scream, “No, don’t touch it!” Like a man crawling from a burning building, he slid across the floor and grasped it in both hands, then lay there clutching the thing. The waitress walked over,
“Jack, Rooney says you’re cut off and need to go home.” I took Rooney for the bartender leaning over the counter shaking his head.
“I don’t think he can go anywhere just yet,” I replied. “Don’t worry.” I reached down to help the old man up. He still held tightly to his marble, unfortunately most his other ones he had lost long ago. I helped him back into the booth then sat myself across from him. I downed what was left of my beer and ordered another before the waitress went back to flirt with Rooney.
“You would think,” he started impatiently, “that a civilization that can create a drinkable dimensional fluid could have its gravity generators run a little more smoothly.”
“Is that your way of saying thank you for picking your rear off the floor? Then you’re welcome,” I said.
“Thank you. I apologize but I promised my associates I would be brief and return right away.” He peered into his hands.
“You must understand it has taken years to develop another Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb. The last mover lost his in some stupid game of chance, so he says.” He was still staring at his hands making sure it was really there.
I had no idea what he was talking about and figured he did not either or maybe he was just pulling my chain to cover his embarrassment for spilling his beer.
“Years?” I asked, “Those things are turned out by the millions every day.” His head popped up as if he had heard a gunshot.
“Impossible!” he said in defense, “The technology for locking in super strings can not be done over night.”
The waitress returned with my beer, then returned to her uninterested bartender.
“Whatever bud,” I said picking up the bottle. “You stick to your solids,” pointing the marble in his hands. “And we’ll stick to our fluids.” I turned up the bottle and downed a quarter of it.
“How long?” he asked.
“How long until the fluid takes effect.” He motioned his hands at the bottle.
“Not long enough.” I answered.
“A trade then. I can make it worth your while.”
I gave him a strange look. Since I first came over to play the good Samaritan, I had been playing babysitter.
“Of course,” I said replying to his question, “Why everyone here knows the formula, see here.” I picked up my bottle and held it up in front of him pointing to the label. “Ingredients.” He went to take the bottle with his free hand but I pulled it back. “You wanted to make it worth my while, I believe.”
“I could trade you information on other dimensions I have visited.”
So he was a traveler like myself. I am always interested in others who travel out-of-body, so I decided to stay. Even though he struggled to speak through his drunkenness, he seemed quite passionate in his effort to obtain his goal.
“I don’t think so,” I answered, “I already have so much information, more would only bore me. How about telling me what’s up with that marble of yours.” I really wanted to know where the marble had come from and why he held onto it so dearly.
“Marble?” he asked.
“The glass ball in your hand.”
He held the marble between his fingers up to the light. It was roughly an inch and a half in diameter, clear and flawless. I reached out to touch it and the old man snatched it away.
“Don’t touch it,” he snapped, “your energy pattern mixed with mine will break down the outside barrier causing it to free the dimensional energy waves.”
“Dimensional energy waves?” I asked. He released his grip on the table and made a half effort to sit up straight,
“You know, dimensional energy wave patterns.” he said.
“Sorry,” I replied, “I guess I’m not up on all that.
He took a glance at his surroundings, I could tell he was having a difficult time focusing his eyes on any one thing.
“But I’m sure your culture is familiar with atoms and super-strings?” he said, “You’re aware of the energy just one atom holds.”
“Sure, we’ve got weapons that use them.”
“Weapons!” This seemed to sober him up a bit, “Does your culture have a death wish? I hope for your sake there are very few.”
“Yea, we’ve got one or two I believe.”
“One is still too many but anyhow. You’re aware of the make-up of dimensions, right?”
“To be quite honest,” I told him, “I’m not up on the make-up but I seem to travel between them qiut well.”
“Ah.” he responded, “A novice.”
“O.K., let me see if I can explain, look at the size of your form. Now think of the number of atoms that make you up, that’s a lot of energy there. A lot of energy in one place, and not just you but the surrounding others. The table here, the glass, the floor the walls, all have this energy, it has to be stored somewhere. That’s where dimensions come in, like a battery, there are different cells inside to spread out and store the energy. Different cells, same energy. Different dimensions, but all the same energy. Your energy pattern is not only here but in infinite other dimensions as well. Waves of this energy flow back and forth though these dimensions. This explains why atoms seem to disappear and reappear. When the energy waves flow though this dimension you see them, when it flows though others you don’t.”
For an old man who looked as if he were running on just two or three brain cells, Drunken Jack seemed to be making sense. You see, beyond our reality there is only one true universe, like a battery. Inside exist a possibly infinite number of cells we call dimensions. All the energy in each atom that makes you here, also makes you in many more of these dimensions.”
“You’re telling me that at this moment, a million or more other me’s are doing the same thing right now?”
“No,” he replied, “That’s not how it works. Look,” he said patiently, “Every particle that makes you up is shared energy with your counterparts. You share the same soul but each has his own spirit.”
Until now, I had been slumped over the table with my head resting in the palm of my hand propped up on my elbow. My head went up at his mention of the spirit and I had to interrupt him.
“Souls, spirits!” I exclaimed, “I thought we were talking about energy and physics, physical things.”
“The soul and spirit are physical things. They are just two of the many types of energy levels. One being inanimate energy, that which binds together to form the table, walls, rocks and the like. Then there’s the energy of the soul… it gives life. Then there is the energy of the spirit. It separates us, makes us individuals.”
“I think I understand but you said all of my counterparts, were not doing the same thing. If we are all the same energy then how could we be different?”
“Like the energy in the battery, it’s the same energy but can run more than just the music box, got it? You may be living a parallel life in a few others but in many more you could be a firefighter, a pilot, a Starship captain or you may even be dead.”
“Yes, or perhaps you haven’t even been born yet. You could even be so alien in some, that your nothing more than a puddle of intelligent slime. You all share the same energy of the soul but each of you has the higher energy of the spirit. Making you all individuals.”
“So what does all this have to do with your marble?” I asked.
“First of all it’s not called a marble, it is a Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb.”
“Marble, is a lot easier to remember.” I said, chuckling. He stared at me briefly, unamused.
“Dimensions coexist, energy waves separate them,” he held the marble or Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb back up to the light above the table. “It takes years for us to collect bits of these waves called super-strings. We as solid bodies cannot travel from one dimension to the other but our individual consciousness can, due to the shared energy. This Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb, is packed with an infinite amount of super-strings of each dimension. This allows the conscious mind to pass over to our counterparts.”
“If only the soul can travel between dimensions,” I asked, “then how is your Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb here also?”
“Its waves are Harmonized to my consciousness. The orb stays back in my dimension unless, like now, my consciousness is fully in charge.”
“Why the big deal if I touch it?”
“Depends,” he said, “should you and I touch it together, the energy pattern becomes unbalanced and the dimensional waves break free. I awaken back in my body and wait years for another to be built for me. Should you or anyone else other than my counterpart touch it alone, the Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb balances to your waves and stays with you. Now how about those ingredients.”
“Sure.” I said, “but hold it up to the light again.”
Jack eyed me with suspicion. I held up my hands then laid my hands palms down on the table. Drunken Jack held the Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb in his palm under the light.
“Don’t worry my friend,” said Jack, “The day will come when your people too will have something similar.”
“Not anytime soon, I’m sure.” I said.
“My people have a saying, ‘If a man receives only one gift in his life, let it be patience’.”
“Yuh, mine also have a saying.” I replied.
“What is that?” asked drunken Jack.
“The hand is quicker than the eye.” At that moment two things took place.
Drunken Jack looked at me for clarification on what I had just said and in that same moment, my right hand jumped up, slapping the bottom of his. The Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb, popped into the air just in time for my left hand to catch it. I became engulfed in deja-vu, in addition to experiencing memories of the past and a foreshadowing my future.
Then as quickly as it had come, the feeling drained away with a tingle throughout my body. What my mind played back seemed like hours but I realized that only a couple of seconds had passed. I looked back to Jack; his expression changed from shock to that of one who was slipping into drunkenness. In only a few seconds he was back to the man whom I had first seen when I had entered the bar. His head slumped back on the wall and he began a light snore.
“Looks like drunken Jack is out for the evening.” I looked up to see the waitress back at the table, “Would you like anything else?”
“No thank you,” I said, “I’ve got some exploring to do.”
I looked into my hand, in it sat a flawless piece of glass, or a Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb. At the time, I didn’t know which.
I stared into the orb and darkness over took me. I opened my eyes to find I was back in my bed in my reality but no Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb to be found.