The other day I was thinking about a kindness my father did for me so many years ago. Why was I thinking of this -- I don't even know.
But what happened is that for a split second I was back there. This was beyond memory. I was the eleven-year old I was then. I was she. I was in my eleven-year old consciousness. I was back in the house where I lived. I could kind of smell what the house smelled like and breathe in the atmosphere, as it were.
I experienced my father's physical presence. My father was alive as he was back then. For a short moment, I was back in time, yet this wasn't reliving it -- it was living it for the first time.
It was as if I had been literally picked up and put back into that time and space as though delivered in a time machine. And yet I also was aware of myself in my present home, and so I was aware that I was back in time and while the concurrent time and space were also going on in the background -- or it could be that that overall awareness came afterward. I can't say for sure.
It was a sort of an Alice in Wonderland through the rabbit hole experience.
For that brief moment, which was so real, so alive, I knew that there was no difference between time and space -- they were the same thing, and, and I knew that, as God has said again and again, time and space do not exist.
The original experience of my father's kindness when I was eleven was no more than an illusion made concrete and therefore what we call real.
Somehow, for this one time, I was transplanted back into the imagined then and there made concrete again as it had once been. That moment existed as it had once existed which is to say it existed only in some coordinate that we experience as time and space, sort of the same as looking through a certain angle of a prism and seeing what we see.
For the brevity of that momentary experience, I also understood how we are on a continuum and that death does not exist any more than time and space do, and, so, we are left with Eternity and Infinity that we fill up with what we call life.
For that brief moment, I understood how our lives are a movie presented on the screen, and that somehow there are no re-runs, only first runs.
Of course, dear friends, a description of an experience isn't the same as the experience itself.