the definition of the soul

0 personal  |   May 25, 2006  |     463

lately i’ve been trying to understand the exact relationship between body and soul; how come souls can leave pieces of themselves around; why through hard work you can invest a soul into an object / project / piece of art.

I’ve lived many experiences these last few years; Mylène who experimented like I did clearly opened my eyes on the aspect of the soul being seperated from the body. It was the summer of 2004, we had been together for a while; life was incredible with her. So passionate, so true; i truely loved her.

One day as I was working in the room next door, she was sleeping in my bed; blinds closed. It was in the afternoon and she must have been tired cause we didn’t sleep all that much when we spent nights together. I suddenly felt her presence around me, and i understood she was trying to speak to me but she mumbled; she mumbled like somebody who is asleep would. So i got up, and stepped into my room. There I heard the weirdest thing..

The floor in my room was a hardwood floor made of beautiful oak. It was set on a sort of styrofoam; and it would crack lightly when you walked on it. As I entered the room I heard the floor crack at the other end of the room, near the room next door where I was at work, and slowly the cracking progressed towards my bed, until it reached Mylène. I jumped on the bed trying to wake her up; it took a few seconds before she did. She was lost; I explained to her what had happened.

She knew about it, she told me many recollections of her leaving her body. With witnessing such evidence it is very hard to not believe in it.

As it turns out, months later (during the following winter) I was to wake up in the middle of the night shouting like a madman. I woke both my roommates up. I couldn’t understand what was happening, why I was shouting and above all what was this body i was stuck into. How odd it felt, how constrained I was, I touched myself everywhere trying to feel myself, understand what was going on. Then suddenly Reuven showed up at my door and asked what was wrong:

  • Martin are you ok?
  • euh, not too sure what happened but yes. Was I shouting?
  • Yeah, i thought you were getting mobbed or somebody was getting killed.
  • euh, sorry. I’m fine thanks. Sorry to wake you up
  • No worries. I’m going back to bed then.

It took me a while to understand that episode. It was probably the first venture of my soul out of my body in a long time.

(part II)


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