"I wonder, 'maybe other beings feel as strongly about what is going on as I do.' The message is direct. I don't know what it means.
"Then the touching starts and I know it's all over." Wonder is silent for awhile. Then, "There is an opening, giving way to nothingness under my head. The soft wetness that used to surround me so lovingly is broken and drained. I feel friction. Something mean and hard is pushing down on me all around in great regular rushes. I don't like it here. I'm so mad. My rage knows no bounds. I'm struggling as if there were some way out, but the hole is too small.
"I'm done for. Desperate and utterly frustrated, I muster my inner light and exert it. It's all I've got. I take the light, hold it steady so it collects, and push outward with it. Now what? At each rush, the hole is widening for me. The walls are urging me on through the opening. I'm pressing and squeezed through the softened hole bit by bit, into a very constricted, dark and rippling space.
"How amazing! This is actually greater joy than I ever experienced in that placid womb. I thought that was life, but this is really life. Kick, Squirm, push with all my might. I'm going somewhere. I'm free.
"And the new sensations are divine. I'm being hugged so tightly. My muscles are stroked, my bones are bent.
OOO it's so exciting. Every part of me is caressed and bathed and blessed in complete massage and movement. I'm giving too. I let my light hammer and blaze. "Before I was just floating dumbly. Now I give way to bliss in a new way. There is nothing but this fulfilling sensation of total expressing love. I'm getting what I want, and I didn't know I wanted it. I love it." Pause. "I must go on. I feel another opening. Something col
d and stinging dry is attacking the top of my head. I'll never be able to live in that poison, if that's where I'm going. This must be death after all. I'll give a glorious kick, and last sell of light. Part of my head is out of the hole. Something terrible is piercing my eyes. It's harsh and bright. It comes inside me. The Pineal works with it now. At each push after push I go more and more into this glaring corrosive atmosphere. One more push together and I'm out.
"I love my mother this instant I leave her. My food and air cord is trailing after me now. I miss the communication through my skin with the water. I fear my inner light is gone. I'm unconnected now. Am I born or dead? The disgust I feel about my exit from the vulva is partly my fault. I dove for it."
Wonder in Aliceland, pages 108-109