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An echo

"I don't know what you did to me, but you changed me."  

Her words stopped me.  In that moment, I felt echoes of memories of my whole life repeating as clearly as if her words had struck a giant bell to bring them back to life.  The echoes of these moments flowed over me like a stormy sea and in their mix, I felt overtones leading back to infinite.  I opened my eyes.

I wanted to say something important to her.  I wanted to say, ...  ...  Bah.  It doesn't matter now.  Be it about pins and needles or eyes being opened or doubts calming.  It doesn't matter now.  The moment is gone.

I was at work and I missed it.  The moment is gone and all I can do is write it here.  I don't know if she will ever find this or even know it is about her, but in writing it I will always know that I did what the lion in my heart commanded.  

While we are on the topic though, as I have grown older this phenomenon has begun happening to me with increasing frequency.  This phenomenon is where words, actions, or moments literally phonate and echo and resonate.  I can feel my whole life and beyond rippling like a giant pool of water-- every new experience, a droplet of water mixing with my own.  If I listen closely enough, I can sense the whole body of water I call my experience and see that everything is connected and simultaneous and real as the single drop touching me in this singular moment.  If I close my eyes, that echolocation of memory can teach me of the earth and air that envelop me on all sides, the water up from where experience comes from, and beyond to the great fire that warms us all.  

To give this sensation a concrete example, I shall use the experience that caused me to write here.  When she said I had changed her and she didn't know how, her words hit me like a gong and I began to see my entire life as a whole.  The frequency of the resonance of her words highlighted single memories at each peak of vibratory pressure.  Memories extending back further than knew I could remember.  Overtones of this frequency highlighted memories I knew were not mine.  Yet all of them were related.  One was a single line from Lady in the Water.  Another a discussion with a lover about The Matrix.  Another from a babysitter I had.  Then came my friend's memories.  Then more of my own I could not recognize.  A frequency of 440 hz.  A tone that takes me from Spain to Hawaii, from California to a colony of settlers on the moon, from memories of rape to floods of emotion that bring strangers to their knees and drive robots to commit suicide.  

All of those moments happened in an instant as another droplet of experience percussed against what I believe is my own body of experience and I returned to reality to realize that no time had passed at all.  This monumentous echo that extended my life far beyond the limitations of "me" was just that-- an echo.  An echo that reminds me that the true nature of time is as finite and simultaneous as the world we place our feet down upon.  

To compare this simultaneity to something physical, I choose a song by Norwegian Recycling called Miracles.  There are no original sounds in the whole song.  It is all mash-ups of old songs.  Jackson, Spears, Savage Garden, Bruno Mars, R&B, Hip Hop, Country, the list goes on, all blending together to reveal a message and a unique song greater than the sum of its parts.  This is what I mean by echoing and creating overtones.  Each moment highlighted by this droplet of experience connects to tell me something far greater than simply what is and what was.  This bell rang to say to me, "all this has happened before and all of this will happen again."

Namaste, my dear readers.  I will see you on the other side.

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