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Writer's pictureLeilani Mañulu

Soul Origins | Part II: The Meeting

Updated: Jul 25



Approximately 3,000 Earth years ago

Location: Unknown, Spirit Realm


Where am I?

How long has it been?

The same questions swirl around my mind, taunting me. Begging for answers that I do not believe are coming anytime soon.

I am in total darkness, and I get the sense that it has been at least several hours, but I cannot be sure. It is difficult to know how much time has passed without having the sun and moon, the day and the night, as a reference point.

This darkness and silence, it is deafening. I continue to struggle against my invisible enclosure, but even struggle feels impossible. I can move freely within my prison; it doesn’t feel as though my arms or legs are shackled or bound. And as far as I can tell, there is no bottom to the enclosure, no ceiling, and no sides. It almost feels like… being in a womb. Or what I would imagine being in a womb would feel like.

I bring my hands to my face and begin to sob uncontrollably. What is happening? I think to myself. How could this have happened? What did I do wrong? Is this my fault?

Unfamiliar feelings begin to creep in. Fear and doubt. I don’t know how I know what they are, since I have only begun to experience them. The names of the emotions come to me freely, though. Perhaps emotions are something that we are wired to understand when we are created into this form?

I begin to move my hands toward my scalp, now using my fingertips to massage my head. What do I do what do I do what do I do… My thoughts continue to feel erratic and panicked.

This silence. It’s deafening.

I scream, and again, I hear no sound.

I can’t even hear my own voice. This is torture. What do I do what do I do what do I do… I am alone.

 

***


More time passes and I am still covered in darkness. At some point, my fingers on my scalp begin to clench my hair. It is almost as though I need to feel the sensation, to remember that I can feel pain. The silence. The darkness. It continues to engulf me.

Again, I’m unsure of how much time has truly passed, but at some point, my thoughts begin to circle in the dark. The same thoughts taunt me, torture me.

My clenched fists in my hair begin pulling harder and harder and eventually, I pull a chunk of my own hair out at the root. I bring the hair toward my face. The darkness is blinding and I cannot see the hair, so I bring it to my nose, hoping that I can smell it. I do smell the unmistakable fragrance of my own hair, still with a hint of wildflowers and sun, but I also smell blood. It must be where I pulled the hair out at the root.

After some time, I know that I can no longer trust my swirling thoughts as I observe them becoming darker and darker. I begin to see images of dark creatures appear in my mind’s eye. A dark man with a shadowy face and tentacles for arms reaching toward me ominously. I see an image of myself, but I look frightening, with pale skin and dark circles under my eyes. My face is aimed downward, and I am looking up at myself with a sinister smile.

I squeeze my eyes shut, perhaps willing the images to fall away, and yet they do not exist outside of my mind so they remain. I feel so lost, so unsure of what to do next.

After what seems like an eternity, I sense the aircraft slowing to a stop and eventually I feel a jolt that tells me that we must have landed. Where are we? Is this their planet, the ones who took me?

These beings must live very far from Earth for it to have taken so long to arrive. I am still enclosed in this darkness, this isolation, and yet I begin to see faint hints of color. I rush toward the colors and realize that the enclosure does, in fact, have walls, edges. I feel around, hoping to get some glimpse of the outside world. Faint, muffled pinks and blues and purples move past me quickly and I yearn to see them, to touch them, but my fingertips only feel the edge of my enclosure.

I continue to feel around the edge of my prison and I gasp, noticing the faint outline of my hand against the dull color. I’m still here. I’m still here… it’s me. That’s my hand. I’m still here…

The dull colors continue to move quickly past my enclosure and then eventually disappear completely. Darkness engulfs me once again. Silence.

“No, no, no!!” I scream and again, hear nothing. No sound. Why do I have no voice?!

My prison stops moving, and I get the sense that I have arrived at my resting place. I don’t know how long I will be here. I don’t know what they are planning for me. I drop to my knees and begin sobbing into my hands.

I have never felt so alone. Forgotten.


***


I wake groggily after a brief, dreamless sleep. Darkness and silence still surround me, and I channel what little energy I have toward fighting the urge to sob into my hands.

I am lying on the invisible floor of my prison, my hands resting underneath my head. I thought that I was protected? I thought that there was always hope? Where is Source in all of this? How could they allow this to happen?

Another unfamiliar feeling begins to permeate my awareness as my thoughts continue to swirl in the darkness: hopelessness.

I bite my lower lip in an attempt to continue to fight back tears but am unsuccessful. I feel so lost, so forgotten, and the tears swell in my eyes and eventually stream down my face. Unable to control my emotional impulses, I give in and begin sobbing again. I am cradling myself in the fetal position and crying into my hands when I feel a sudden warmth wash over me.

What… was that? I ask, distracted from my own emotion by this sudden change in bodily sensation. Or, should I say… who?

I stand up and move toward the edge of my prison, feeling around with my hands until I sense that I’ve reached the outer wall. I place both of my hands on the wall, willing the sensation to return.

I feel the warmth once more, and I close my eyes to savor it. It feels like… peace. Like home. Who are you?

You are not alone, I hear a voice in my mind say. I see your suffering, and you are not alone.

Help me! I respond telepathically, frantic, my breathing shallow. Please get me out of here! I don’t belong here. This is a mistake.

I feel the warmth wash over me again as I feel my breathing deepen then return to normal. This feeling… this peace. It is the only respite I’ve experienced since I was taken from Earth.

This being, this person. They are close; I know it. I can feel them. I can sense them. If they see my suffering, why aren’t they helping me?!

Suddenly, I begin to hear muffled sounds. I perk up, instantly bringing my attention to the nearly inaudible voices. Their voices are the first sound I have been able to hear since I was taken and confined to my prison. I have the intuitive sense that this being that was helping me feel more peaceful has something to do with the fact that I can suddenly hear them, the others. The ones who took me.

I can barely make out the words, but I also know instinctively that I would not understand the language even if I could hear them clearly. I remember my connection with the other being, the one who brought me peace, and I begin to focus my attention on trying to understand energetically what is happening, what they are talking about.

I can feel them, sense them in my body… I continue to reach out energetically, trying to obtain any inkling of information to help me make sense of any part of this.

Awareness suddenly hits me and I begin to decipher their discourse. They are talking about… me. I see an image of them in my mind’s eye, which frightens me at first since I wasn’t expecting to be able to actually see them. My mind quickly translates their messages so that I can make sense of them.

“We aren’t able to access her gifts,” one of the beings says, seemingly frustrated. “We have tried everything, but she seems to have heavy protections around her. We can’t even touch her… it doesn’t seem possible to get close enough to extract anything from her.”

“Well…,” a second being chimes in, “What do we know about Earthlings? They communicate much more… physically… with sounds and movement. They are much more external. They are not typically a telepathic species. Perhaps we need to release her from the enclosure, get a closer…”

“No, absolutely not,” the first being stops him abruptly. “No, it’s too risky. What if we can’t control her? You know how powerful she is…”

Powerful? What…? It feels absurd in this moment that they would be afraid of my power. I am constantly getting lost in a state of psychosis. I’m pulling my hair out at the root, screaming for anyone to hear me, and they are worried about how powerful I am?

“Let me try,” I hear a third being say, and I stop frozen in my thoughts. It’s… him. The one who was pushing me peace. “I might be able to get some information. She seems responsive to my presence.”

“You have seemed to establish some sort of energetic connection with her…,” the first being says, seeming to consider his words. “Well, shit. I suppose it’s worth a shot. We’re kind of stuck right now. Try to make contact, gather as much information as you can, and report back as soon as possible.”

The third being nods and they all disperse. In my mind’s eye, I see the third being glance back toward my prison, and I feel another surge of peace wash over me. I try to resist the advances. Is he just trying to get close to me to… what? Use me? Access my so-called gifts, my power? What is this sick game…

Anger courses through me, blinding my third eye sight, and I feel myself energetically shove him back. My third eye vision returns and I see him stumble back a few steps, then turn his body fully to face me. How did I do that?!

He begins to walk slowly toward my prison and I feel him place his hands on the outside of it. Do not be afraid… I am here to help you, I promise. I know it might not seem like that…

He pauses, seeming to be obtaining information in the moment. You… you heard us? You saw us? He is shocked at the discovery.

I’m not telling you anything, I reply energetically, my words venomous. I can’t fucking trust you. I heard everything. I sense him smile, which only fuels my anger further. You are truly one sadistic son of a…

Listen to me carefully, he interrupts me and I feel my rage beginning to boil over. I am truly here to help you. I am here on Source’s behalf. It may seem as though I am one of these beings, but I am not.

My thoughts begin to swirl. Sent by Source? How is this possible? He’s one of them…

I’m not, he interrupts me again.

You know, it’s fucking rude to keep interrupting me… and to keep eavesdropping on my private thoughts, honestly!

I sense him smile again. His energy is gentle and he drops to his knees. Trust me, please… I know you have no reason to… but it’s important that you do. It’s the only way we’re making it out of here…

We?! I scoff. Okay, buddy. Sure.

Yes, we, he replies, very matter-of-fact. They are not my people. This is not my planet.

Could have fucking fooled me… Anger continues to rise within me and I cut myself off from him to the best of my ability. I continue to feel his advances and do what I can to block them. After a few moments, he stops attempting to reach me and I sense him walking away. He is still there but now giving me space.

What is happening? I ask no one in particular… perhaps Source can hear me? Source… where are you? I need guidance. What do I do? Who do I trust? What… what is real? I can’t tell what’s real…

I feel the psychosis begin to creep up again and I bring my hands to my scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair again. I don’t know what’s real… what is real?! Where am I? Where is home… there is always hope… that’s what Joan said and yet… I feel so hopeless…

Tears sting my eyes and eventually begin falling down my cheeks. I don’t know what’s real… I’m so alone… I pull at my hair, trying to decide if I should let the psychosis take me again. What does it fucking matter? No one can hear me…

Suddenly, the same peaceful energy washes over me. My thoughts quiet to a dull roar and I bring my hands down away from my head. I am still lying in the fetal position when I feel a sudden blanket of warmth engulf me.

Why… why are you doing this? If you are here to help me, why don’t you just release me? What… what are you doing?

I’m following Source’s guidance, he replies gently. I’m not supposed to release you yet. It’s not time. But I’m here and…, he pauses, seeming to consider his words, I want to help. I want to bring you some…

Peace, I know, I say a bit defeated. It seems futile to try to argue with him. I have been sensing the ways in which he is helping calm me down. And even if he does have some dark intentions, it feels like a relief to have a break from my distressing thoughts, this psychosis that I am dangerously rubbing up against.

I sense his body relax as he feels my lack of resistance. Please… please trust me, he says. What’s your name? We only know you as Chosen One.

I laugh. Ew, I don’t like that… what does that even mean?! I smile gently, continuing to consider his question. I… I don’t have a name. At least, I never really thought to ask what it was. I am a pretty new soul. I don’t think I discovered it yet.

He seems to contemplate this, and I realize he has approached my prison once more. I focus my attention on my mind’s eye and see him sitting cross legged on the other side of the wall from me. I push myself out of the fetal position and focus on listening to his voice. Well…, he starts, I think you have a couple of options. We can keep calling you Chosen One, which you seem to hate. He smiles as he undoubtedly senses me wrinkling my nose in disgust. Or, we could figure out a name now? At the very least, we can identify a placeholder name?

I think about that for a moment and shrug. Yeah, whatever. Okay, I respond, and he laughs.

You’re kind of a stubborn one, aren’t you? he asks playfully, and I shrug again. Okay… how about… Mary?

Nahhhh, I reply quickly. I’m not a Mary. There are so many Mary’s back home, and… I’m just not a Mary.

Hmm, honestly… it’s kind of the only Earth female name I really know. Do you have any other ideas?

I contemplate his question for several moments. I feel the name arise from the center of my chest and I allow it to form in my thoughts. Avania… my name is Avania.

I sense his smile again which puts me even more so at ease. Avania it is, he says and places a hand on the wall again. I feel the wash of peace once again, and I lie back down.

And you? What is your name?

My name is Saros, he replies simply. Now… sleep, dear one… you need to rest.

As if on cue, I lie back down and close my tired eyes, easily falling into a deep sleep as I sense his gentle, peaceful energy cradling me.

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