The creaky bike and I took a trip east towards the shore again. As I bounced along over pot holes and speed control obstacles, intentionally and unintentionally placed, I realized that I had gotten a form of freedom back that I had been missing; control of my own mobility. I smiled thinking of the contrast between this ride and the last. I felt appreciative.

I caught the glance of a woman in an orange sari walking on the side of the road. Our eyes found a position of contact. I held it, and so did she. I could see in her shy smile that holding a gaze was outside of her typical comfort but curiosity was winning; and it was mutually so. This made the moment sweeter. I think people want to have this connection, but we are often afraid to see or be seen.

Crossing the main road felt easy. I calmly swerved through the traffic, which spit off into every direction at the intersection. Back on the left side, I could feel that I was learning; by learning, I mean my fear was dissipating faster than had been typical. I watched an older European couple hurriedly walk their bikes across the chaotic road with stressful looks on their faces. I knew they were going to the same place as me. As I became aware of the contrast between how I felt and what I saw of the people herding each other across the road, I realized that the only thing that has ever kept me from achieving what I want and all that ever would, is fear. Ability has never had anything to do with it. Now the work was believing this with more than just my mind.

I was biking to another Watsu session, which was following a Regression session I had the day prior. The main goal of the day before was to accept being here in my body, and on earth, although that wasn’t what I had intended on working on when I went in. The focus was on moving through the trauma associated with my birth. I knew this would have an effect on the second session in the pool today.

As I was submerged by the therapist and moved through the warm water, I was almost having fun. A moment came where I usually would have felt some fear being under the water, and I didn’t feel anything. I searched inside my chest for the familiar feeling, then stopped myself. There was no need to search. Better to just let the space be vacant, for once.

As I rode home, I noticed that I was feeling happier. An older man asked for my phone number and I easily said no. Another person was making suggestions that we should travel together; I didn’t feel interested, so I said no. Did dealing with my birth allow me to shed some unnecessary guilt or need to please people? I think it may have been the chronic conflict avoidance that was improving. Maybe even having the right to take up space and…to be a person.

I went to yoga and my body felt looser. My hips were especially more flexible than they had been the day before. Later on in the evening, I met a friend and our conversation turned to the metaphysical. I felt my confidence in speaking openly about the subjects returning. I was being observant again and making connections easily. I could explain my method for letting go and changing patterns in a fluid, coherent way. Everything was getting easier.

Today I felt more like myself. As my friend from the night before reminded me, I had said that I predicted having increased ease of allowing emotions to release as a result of the therapies. He had said how much he loved crying, and how good it felt. Today, as I mourned the fading of a cherished relationship, I remembered what that was like.

I visited Matrimandir in the morning, which is a giant golden orb in the center of Auroville intended for the practice of concentration and silence. The design of the inner chambers was seen in visions by the founder of this place, The Mother. The entire visit was my first taste of a real-life twilight zone scenario or what seemed like an alien ritual.

We watched a short video about the chamber. The ushers took everything very seriously throughout the process of checking us in, herding is into vans, herding us to the waiting area where we heard more of the history, herding us to the structure and herding us inside. It was well organized and efficient; almost like everyone was linked to a hive mind. The inside of the structure was faceted and round, with two ramps leading up to and down from the meditation chamber. The whole process was carried out in complete silence, which contributed to the surreal and sci-fi effect of the morning’s proceedings.

The chamber itself was all white. We had to put socks on to enter; it made sense as the dirt here is red…and everywhere. Cushions lined the walls and the floor in a circle. It was like an adult story-time circle. In the center a glass orb was supported on each side by golden metal shaped into what looked like the Star of David. A small opening in the ceiling allowed a concentrated beam of sunlight to highlight the orb.

We all sat and then it was just…silent. Nothing special happened, but I didn’t even feel that my leg had gone numb when they flashed the lights to bring us back from wherever we went, so I must have been…concentrating. As I stood up and followed the procession out, one of the volunteers and I shared a significant glance. We repeatedly looked back at each other as we walked in opposite directions around the circular room. Finally he came back around the circle and just as I went through the doorway, we looked again, both with smiles. Then, I cried.

Maybe I knew him from another life. He felt familiar, and safe. The tears felt like relief…like someone you care for deeply returning after a long period of absence; with their return having been an uncertain thing.

As the day went on, I forgot about him. I wasn’t clinging to the experience or the feelings. It just had been what it was, when it was, and now I was…now.

I met with the woman who had guided me through the past life regression session for a follow-up. I described some of the changes I had noticed, including being able to draw life force energy down in the form of a light wave that looked like it was from a spaceship, rather than getting enveloped in a gray cocoon when she had asked me to try days earlier. As we talked, she had a bit of a curious smile. She stood up and grabbed something off of the shelf in a hesitant way. She wrapped it up and handed it to me.

“Does this feel like it is good for you or not?”

I haven’t been good at judging applied kinesiology muscle testing or intuition for myself, but I felt an energetic force pushing into my hand from the vial. Perhaps that was a good enough answer for her, because she walked to the cabinets and began dropping some of the liquid from the vial into another, and filling it with white pellets. As she scribbled something on the label, she told me that it was very rare for her to give this out, and usually only after a two hour intake session to make sure it was a good idea. She said it was part of her field of research and that after our initial conversation, she had thought that I fit into what she was studying. Now I was very curious. I looked at the label. It was a series of letters and numbers.

“Hold it and meditate. Sleep with it under your pillow. Experiment, but don’t ingest any of it yet.”

I knew if there was to be any success, I couldn’t look up what the vial actually contained. I didn’t have any context except that it had something to do with me spending time outside my body and my consciousness not being fully in my body.

The vial contained water with intention, which was a part of homeopathy that I hadn’t known about prior. I had played with putting intentions in water, but didn’t know the science existed as a part of the homeopathy method; I had only known about the little white beads. The vial would emit a frequency because it had been programmed, but for the experiment it would be a lesser effect because I wasn’t ingesting it.

The woman said that not even her teachers would give this vial to people except only on very rare occasions. Her looks and tone said much more. I don’t know what to look for in terms of changes, but I am really excited to be a part of an experiment. Things are starting to be more than what they seem, here in the twilight zone.