MY PRE-BIRTH MEMORY
MY PRE-BIRTH MEMORY
BEFORE entering the 3rd dimensional earth plane,
before I was born, I had a memory, my first memory...
I existed.
I was infinite spaciousness inside infinite spaciousness.
Infinity inside infinity. No bounds, no edges to my
existence and to that which I was within.
Was I truly within it or was all of it within me?
There was no color, no light, no dark, no sound.
It was a nothingness.
I was a nothingness that was aware.
I wasn't male or female.
No body, no form, no finiteness.
I could not see with physical eyes but I was acutely aware of what was
surrounding me which seemed to be nothing yet was everything.
I could not hear with physical ears but there were communications.
I knew.
I just WAS. I was in the IS-ness.
I was 'doing' but 'doing' with no body, no form. No effort was put forth
in that ‘doing’ and ‘doing’ is too obvious of a 3D word to use as a
description of those moments.
It seemed I was busy BE-ing in the IS-ness and the ‘doing’ was in
anticipation of something unknown but expected in
the sense of ‘what was next?’
Yet the feeling of that phrase was not that pronounced in my BE-ingness.
Subtlety encompassed ALL. Subtlety communicated ALL.
Another BEing approached. I do not hear or see here, I could only feel it,
know it was there. It, too, was without form like me.
No identification was offered. No identifications there.
I felt nothing concerning the other BE-ing and did not even register
that a feeling was required in this encounter.
Then the BE-ing communicated with me, which did not come in words,
only a knowing and translated into a request for me to
do something different, to make a change.
That part is heavily veiled and unknown. So is the part of
what I was preparing to do.
I agreed to the changes that were presented.
THEN...
A FLASH OF UNSPEAKABLE, INCREDIBLY BRILLIANT LIGHT
A LIGHT THAT CANNOT BE UNDERSTOOD OR DESCRIBED
The next thing I 'know' and see, with physical eyes, is a screen door, and I am
in physical form, yet not totally inhabiting the physical form.
That is an impossibility.
I still feel massive in my BEingness...
I AM everywhere all at once and
operating from my Is-ness but
there seems to be edges now.
Edges and finite shapes.
The point of focus is whatever I am seeing through now,
the eyes, although my consciousness, my awareness
is completely engulfing everything.
I am not very high.
I am not even half way up the screen door and low to the ground.
It is all new and foreign, yet also known at the same time.
Seems that I have been 'here' before but not the physical here of this round.
I look out the screen door and see something tumbling by,
don't know what, don't know much except that
I am not where I was before I awoke here.
Go to black.
Return to: Extended Version
~~~~~~~~~
Words are sorely inadequate in describing Who I Really Am and the pre-birth memory environment.
As I traveled through this life in duality consciousness—playing the game, facing the trials and the breakdowns we all eventually meet—I always carried that memory with me.
For a long time, I denied it. Especially in the face of acute trauma or emotional devastation, it felt easier to shut that door. I questioned the harshness of life, asked “Why me?” and circled the drain of victimhood. That phase, too, is part of the passage.
I also kept the memory to myself. I already felt like I didn’t belong, didn’t fit. Speaking about something so personal and hard to explain only deepened that sense of isolation, and I wasn’t ready.
Eventually, I got to the point where something had to change. When the pain of staying the same became too loud to ignore, I began the slow climb out of victim consciousness. That step—facing our own loop—is the beginning of reconnection with Sovereign Self.
There’s no movement until that reckoning happens.
As I emerged, I began to share the memory. Not to be understood, but to make space for the part of me that remembered. It became a quiet tether during the harder stretches of my healing—a reminder that the chaos of this place isn’t all there is.
That memory has always whispered:
This is not the real world.
The real Real has not forgotten you.
It is holding the edge of your thread.
And it will not let go.
If you’ve carried a memory that never left you—one that speaks more truth than the world around you—there is a path forward.
It is intelligent, and guided by something that already knows.