LINK
by
Lucella Campbell
Copyright 2017 Lucella Campbell,
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tiki Edri
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2880-2
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
I.
Link had just become human. And now here he was under the almond tree trying to absorb the nuances of the physical experience. He sat facing the almond tree, completely absorbed in trying to penetrate it simply with a thought. On every other previous visit to Earth, he had been able to move through any object at will, and he expected no less this time. It was simply his way of being. And so he continued to sit there, before the almond tree, engrossed in effort and wonder. It was four pm, but he did not know it. In fact, he did not even know it was the year 2010. A line of concentration appeared on his brow. Still nothing happened. He could not understand why, on this occasion, a simple desire did not result in his moving easily through the tree.
Amidst all of his effort, one strange sensation continued to compete for his attention. From very close confines, he could sense a continuous rhythm, almost soothing in its constancy…a slow steady flow that seemed somehow to be connected to him, yet connected too with the outside. There it was one second, and the next it was leaving – a constant flow between inside and outside. He stayed with it, and now he could really feel it. In…out…in…out…rising…falling. With every intake, something in him seemed to heave ever so slightly, then relaxing gently on the outflow. He became engrossed in that sensation, observing it…absorbing it…wondering why it seemed so entwined in his being. S l o w l y, he came to the realization that the sensations he was picking up on were in fact his own…the rhythm of breath…inhaling, exhaling…that pattern of connection with the cosmos. And then it dawned on him that the transfer was complete. He was matter. He was in fact human.
He reeled under the weight of that realization. He was no longer on Altura in the realm of the formless. His wish had been granted. He had longed to become human in order to help the Earthlings remember again their connection with spirit. He had known too that in order to truly absorb the human experience, this would mean his trading his ephemeral form for bones and sinew, flesh and blood, and all of the paraphernalia that came with it. And he had fully chosen the experience. But now that the choice had become real, it was like being hit with thunderbolts. Prior to this, he had gained his knowledge of the material world only from research and observation. Now he could add to that the overwhelming reality of…sensation.
He felt the soft flutter of the breeze against his skin as it whispered its welcome, subtly caressing his form. The serenade of birds nearby joined in the welcome, heralding him gently into the realm of the physical. The full range of scents that pervaded the air, cascaded in on him from far and near – an avalanche of fragrances and odors of nature. The raw flavor of each of the senses descended on him - that human feature, that more than any other feature, was a source of curiosity for the other realms. He vowed that he would in time learn to discern their individual qualities, now that he too could explore the medley of sensations that served to keep humans so identified with their physical form.
He was enthralled. His mind could not contain the weight of discovery of his human condition, going from intense exhilaration at the possibilities this represented, to the depths of fear. What if the humans here rejected him, experiencing him as different? What if he got cut off from his home forever never being able to make it back? That thought left him with a deep sense of loss, so vast, that as he pursued it, he got entangled in its unrelenting expanse. He focused his thought energy outside of his being, reaching out to encompass other thought forms, but there was…nothing. Nothing but his own thoughts coming back at him. The solace and comfort that he had always known in the unity of thought with the whole, was no longer to be his. There was no isolation imaginable that could be greater than this. He could not stay. He could not leave. And there was no stage in between. As he bounced between these thoughts, he was assailed by a doubt so intense that it took on a life of its own, coursing through him, clawing, cold and snakelike leaving its mark on every cell, every fiber of his being. Everywhere it landed, he could feel it eroding subtle levels of his life force. And then he sensed the onslaught of an even more formidable assailant. "You cannot avoid me," it hissed. FEAR. In its wake everything quailed, as it spread through his being casting a dark and ominous shadow. Every life-affirming atom was drained of its vigor. Even doubt was annihilated, replaced by an energy so powerful, so consuming, that one could not but be pulled into its radius. He found himself swallowed in its clutch, spiraling downwards into its bottomless pit, buffeted on all sides by the darkest thought forms. "You’re alone now, alone….One man…isolated. Without the unity of the whole to support you, who are you? How will you survive?"
His upper extremity seemed to be the source of these ridiculous notions. With every ounce of his will, he tried to compress that area, willing it to collapse until there would be no space there to house the terrifying thoughts. His eyes fastened tightly; his face puckered up, grimacing and twisting, with the effort. But nothing changed. The thoughts kept tumbling in even faster.
"You wanted individuality. Now you’ve got it."
"A separate unit doomed to a life of struggle against the multitudes that crowd your world at the mercy of every other individual. And the rule here is – first come, first served. And guess what – those who get there first always have oversized needs."
"That’s what it is to be individual. To struggle against the others for survival at all costs."
"Others will always be your enemy. Always outside of you."
"No shared whole here. You’re on your own. Everyone is."
His face contorted into a mask of lines and creases in his effort to rid himself of his upper extremity, which seemed to be the source of his torment, but nothing happened, nothing but the roar of the individual runaway thought forms that engulfed him.
"You gave up the whole. And now you have me – Fear - your constant companion."
If all of this was true, then this would have to be the hell that he had heard so much about. What had he gotten himself into? He could feel the quickening of his breath, its gentle flow jolted into quick, short spurts, and then his heartbeat joined in. What was happening here? Panicked, he again engaged his will to eliminate that avalanche of thoughts and restore some normalcy to his being. But the thoughts had taken on a life of their own, allowing him no choice but to give up the battle as the volley of thoughts raged on. His drooping frame seemed to have lost inches in stature.
But just as he was about to slip into the oblivion of hopelessness, a tiny bird alighted on the projection that lay limply on his side. Hand. He recalled the information on human anatomy that he had absorbed while on Altura. The bird busied itself pecking on the prongs connected to the end of his hand. Fingers he recalled. Chirping, it pecked away, looking up at him in turn. His fingers responded to the peck with a sudden jerk. Somewhere in his form, something had triggered movement, and it jolted him into stark awareness. This new discovery of movement
