Have you ever found yourself lying in your grave looking up at the folks gathered around - above ground, of course - awaiting the first shovel-full of dirt to be deposited upon your now deceased form?
An assembly. To what purpose? To pronounce you departed? To weep? To judge? To say goodbye?
You probably noticed the quarter-circle that formed nearest to the unit - the hole - the grave site, heads leaning a bit forward, eyes seeking that last good look inside the grave.
And you, yourself: Did you do as I did: relive your life in its entirety, up to and including the end of it? Did you try to alter any of it? Did you actually attend these events again?
So many overlapping events. Those folks in their semi-circle looking downward. Another lifetime when the young boy was cast into the freshly dug grave sans casket,
while that partial-circle gazed in on him.
And there was the time in this life when the surgeons hovered over and around the operating room table busily working on the six-year-old girl, looking down at her prone, broken form.
Another time - let's not forget it - (humans called them extraterrestrials) also looked down upon her prone, anemic body as it was being remedied.
What about that memory of the girl who was being judged by the assembled council of elders for revealing the secrets of the silver books? Weren't they seated above, looking down at her?
Did you wonder how it was that you kept finding your form-self broken and being observed, pronounced upon, prepared by others who stood above and around you?
What is memory?
Are our lives simply memories?
Are we being observed by others?
Are your overlapped memories "sorted out" yet?
Are you the observer - or the observed?
This is a LECTURE SERIES presentation
Copyright 2008-2022. All Rights Reserved. Asha of Antares, Asha Ariel Aleia
Photo courtesy: Asha of Antares. Asha Ariel Aleia, personal collection.