Quantum Self (Short Story: Part 1)
This is part one of a short story.
It’s loosely based on my life, and told from a unique (quantum) perspective. You’ll see…
How To Get The Most Out Of This
To get the most out of your reading experience, practice breathing deeply and relaxing your body. This will help you focus and get into a flow state where you’re completely immersed.
To support this, tildes (~) are included throughout the text, in between sections. When you see a tilde (~), pause, take a deep breath and relax your body. Then resume reading.
This will also help you practice getting into a relaxed state on demand, which has wide-reaching benefits for every aspect of life.
Enjoy the journey!
The car door flew open.
Everything else seemed as still as the background of a painting - the pastel sunset sky, the fluffy clouds, the quiet street lined with modest suburban homes.
A blur of animalistic agility erupted out of the freshly parked vehicle. He was in a fit of rage. The primal electricity in his body shattered the stillness of the warm summer evening.
He sprinted up to the red and white “Sold” sign on the lawn and ripped it out of the ground like a rampaging gorilla uprooting a sapling. With a guttural grunt, he flung the sign into the bushes. Pretty impressive for a 9 year old kid.
His parents tried to calm him down, but Stephen wasn’t having it. He screamed and flailed his hands in the air like a wild animal. Seeing this, his parents realized there was no helping him until he calmed down. They took his sister and brother inside and let Stephen pass through his storm.
Every trapped emotion exploded out as he punched, kicked and roared. The anger at his parents for taking him away from his neighborhood, his modern tribal village, with all his friends. The frustration at life for not working in his favor. The overwhelming grief of dreams shattered and a childhood lost. He held nothing back.
After a few more minutes of rampage, his body collapsed in exhaustion. As Stephen sat on the grass sobbing, the tears cleansed the thoughts and emotions, bit by bit. The storm subsided. His mind became like a still, pristine mountain lake reflecting a clear blue sky.
This is when I was able to reach him, or so I thought.
~
It was crystal clear and expansive, but I couldn’t see anything. I navigated by intuition alone.
Waves of peace, interspersed with mental chatter, washed over me. In pockets of stillness, I could sense presences around me. The old me would’ve been scared. Now though, I knew how to handle myself.
At first, it was more of a feeling; one of those ethereal feelings where you question whether you’re making it up or not.
“Patience,” I said to myself. “Let it emerge.”
I sat with the feeling. No expectation. No attachment. Slowly, silhouettes of light began to appear.
Something within me just knew that each silhouette was a portal as much as a being. I drew upon my breath from the faraway land where my physical body was, infusing more peace and clarity into my perception.
Like adjusting a microscope, the beings became clearer and clearer. I focused on one like a magnet, sensing that it matched my intention. With a decisive click, I moved towards it until the other beings faded away.
That’s when the realization smacked me across my cosmic face. “It’s him!”
The silhouette of light now took on the outline of a boy. I had come to talk to him, maybe help him if I could, but I froze up, not knowing what to do. Thoughts swirled around my consciousness. “Am I ready for this? What if I fuck up? Can I really help him? Will it even work?”
“Breathe, stabilize, let go…” As I saw the state he was in, it sparked something new within me - a deeper level of grounded courage. He needed me.
Another wave of realization hit me. It wasn’t only him that needed me. I needed him just as much. The love that bubbled up in my heart at this moment was so powerful that it sent me into a rapture. I could feel my distant body crying that divine mix of sadness and joy.
It was a whirlwind of feeling, at an intensity I never thought possible. Although energy electrified my being, I somehow felt completely still, like the eye of a storm. Here was the clarity I’d been seeking for so long. I couldn’t dwell here though. I was on a mission. I don’t know how, but I swallowed this infinite stillness and brought it back toward the boy.
He emerged again as a silhouette of energy, still in the same state. He didn’t notice me. The tempest of emotions clouded his vision. He was lost at sea. And he would continue to be, maybe for the rest of his life, until he chose otherwise.
~
Lost At Sea
He stumbled out the door.
The party was winding down. Stephen decided to walk back to his dorm alone. Well, saying he “walked” is a bit of a stretch. With enough alcohol in his system to bring down an elephant, his higher consciousness couldn’t even interface with his body. Stephen’s body was on its own, on autopilot.
One foot reached out in faith, hoping to reach the ground. When it touched, then the other did the same. As his feet did this dance, his body fought to keep its balance. It wasn’t enough. Eventually, Stephen’s body swayed too far and collapsed on the hood of a car in a parking lot - just across the street from his dorm building. So close, yet so far.
*Failsafe activated*
Stephen had fallen too far from grace. As per our pre-incarnation agreement, I now had the right to intervene. He was officially lost at sea.
The mix of sadness and compassion was a lot, but I didn’t let it overwhelm me. I glided to his immobile vessel. Charging up, I merged with his body, keeping it alive and protecting it.
We needed help, so I sent out a signal. An early morning jogger felt an odd feeling. He scanned the parking lot to see what it could be. That’s when he saw the body sprawled out on the hood of the car. He ran up and checked the pulse. “He’s alive…”
Without hesitation, the jogger whipped out his cell phone and called 911. Him and I, like two divine protectors, held a vigil around Stephen. Minutes later, an ambulance arrived. After talking to the paramedics, the jogger nodded and slowly walked away. Bless that man’s heart.
In the hospital, I maintained the vigil. Nurses and doctors checked Stephen’s vital signs and hovered around the bed. After confirming he would be okay, they left the room.
Stephen became conscious again around 7:30am - disoriented, confused and scared. He swung his body off of the bed and tried walking towards a bathroom. After two steps, he felt a tug, followed by dull pain. An IV was still in his arm. A nurse noticed and escorted him back into his bed.
Here, slowly regaining consciousness, Stephen was truly humbled for the first time in his life. The vulnerability. The regret. The guilt. The terror-stricken realization of being so close to death. He cried, like a child who was scared and alone. In his mind, he silently called for help. “Help, please. God, whatever’s out there. I need help. What did I do? How did this happen?”
Little did Stephen know, this humble request for help allowed him to interface with us again, for the first time in years.
The next couple days, he was in a daze - the kind where you question your entire existence.
Who am I?
Why am I here on Earth?
How can I be a better person?
What’s my purpose?
What’s the meaning of life?
What is reality?
Is there more to reality than I thought?
How did I survive?
Mixed with this questioning were periods of unexpected peace of mind; peace he never even thought possible. It was as if his whole consciousness was reset. The fear and anxiety that had plagued his mind for a decade was suddenly gone. Because of this, he had no desire to numb out with alcohol anymore.
The connection was re-established. Weak, but there nonetheless.
~
The Tipping Point
Like a macrocosmic version of how he stumbled home, Stephen was stumbling towards his real home. This time, however, with each step he took, he became more aware, more adept.
In the beginning, it was almost comical to watch him bumble along his timeline. I say comical because, with the connection re-established, Stephen’s life was like a magnet to… Well, we’ll get into that soon…
He had since graduated college and entered the merry-go-round of the real world. Experiencing the drudgery of 9-5 life - the commuting, the small-talk, the listening to constant complaints, the stress, the robotic routines, the absence of play and imagination - drove Stephen deeper into self-exploration.
Many threads appeared in his life, like trailheads leading to paths of new vistas and wonder. He was ready.
A single word became a seed. That seed became a practice. And that practice became the opening, the tipping point for greater awareness to pour through. Instead of bumbling along his path, he could consciously walk now.
That word was Meditation. Stephen had heard it, and like most people, thought it was just for hippies and gurus in the Himalayas. Yet once he had heard it enough times, especially from high-powered athletes and entrepreneurs he admired, he decided to give it a try.
He sat there, eyes closed, ready for a mystical experience. Instead, it went like this:
“What am I going to have for dinner later? I wonder if I should ask her out. Is writing really my gift or should I try something else? How can I get freedom of time and location? Oh, I need to listen to that podcast I came across about passive income. Are my hands in the right position? I think sweet potatoes are my favorite food. Oh, timesheets are due today for work…”
After about 10 minutes, Stephen got up. “Is there something wrong with me? Meditation is supposed to be this peaceful, zen thing, and all I did was obsess over literally everything.”
“Ohhh,” he gasped as the realization hit him. “My mind is doing that all the time and I’m just noticing it now. That’s craaazy.”
That epiphany created the space we needed to fully interface. Though we had a long way to go, Stephen could at least walk on his own two feet now, so to say. With his spiritual legs strengthening, he hiked along his path.
He would need this awareness, because the next step was staring some fears right in their face.
~
At Gunpoint
Less than two weeks later, Stephen was in Honduras.
His friend Jay was living there, working at a small adventure resort. Stephen and his friend Andy went to visit Jay and explore the jungle-infused country.
After a few days around the adventure resort, they decided to take a trip to another eco-resort on the other side of the country. It would take 7-8 hours to get there, through a combination of taxis and buses. They left the next morning, eager for new experiences.
By the time Stephen and his friends reached the city closest to the eco-resort, it was getting dark. Something didn’t feel right, like the air was thick with tension. Stephen felt people watching them, three gringos in a random Honduran city at night. His body tensed up, and his senses heightened, trying to sense any possible danger.
The street at twilight felt like a trippy dream, one that could devolve into a nightmare at any moment. Everything looked bluish gray, blending into a multi-sensory backdrop of smoky smells, Honduran food, distant chattering in Spanish and the dull roars of vehicles.
They would need to take a taxi to the eco-resort, so they walked searching for one. After a minute or two, a man walked up to them. He spoke in broken English. “You need a taxi?”
“Yes,” the three of them said simultaneously. Nodding his head, the man walked them a few feet to his taxi, parked in a small parking lot. When they approached the car, Stephen and his two friends mumbled under their breath to each other, “Should we trust this guy?” They exchanged glances, checking each other’s danger radars.
Stephen knew Jay and Andy felt the same vague danger that he did, but he also knew they were thinking what he thought after that. “There’s three of us, and we’re all bigger than him. He’d be stupid to try something on us.”
The man opened the doors and they got into the car: Jay in the front passenger seat, Stephen in the back right and Andy in the back left. By the time they rolled out of the city, it was dark. With the protection of sunlight gone, Stephen felt even more uneasy.
Soon enough, they were on a dirt road. As they came to a stretch without houses or lights, the taxi driver stopped the car. The three friends exchanged the same unspoken communication again. “If he tries anything, we’ll defend ourselves.”
The double-bump sound of the car being switched from drive to park snapped Stephen into a slow motion flow state. He saw the taxi driver open the door, get out of the car, then open Andy’s door. “Levantate,” he said to Andy. Andy got up and stood next to the driver, who proceeded to reach under the seat and pull out a piece of metal. “Oh he’s getting a gun!” Stephen’s mind screamed. But for some reason, there was a strange feeling of reassurance, hidden deep under the terror.
Stephen observed every micro-movement of the driver’s body with the precision of a special ops veteran. A primal instinct told him he could snap the man’s neck if he turned to shoot Andy.
That’s when he realized what the driver was saying…
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