Little Voices

Long before my first conscious out-of-body experience, I became aware of a little voice residing inside of me. It was a fascinating experience, although at first frightening. Sometimes, the voice spoke to me and I did all I could to ignore its presence.  "This is unreal,” I would say to myself. Except, when I felt I was in trouble of some sort, I would come to a dead stop and have what felt like a dialogue with that mysterious little voice. I couldn’t talk about this with anyone, not at home or any place else. I surely dared not talk about my dialogs with the Nuns in the Catholic school I attended. They would probably say it was the voice of my guardian angel and I refused to believe in angels. I got used to the voice and being an only child, I didn’t feel so alone during the many hours my Mother was at work. 

At age seven, I contracted Scarlet Fever.  The little voice inside was saying to me, “You are very sick and you’re going die, real soon!”  That was scary but now, the voice itself was the least of my problems. I was feverish and cold at the same time and my body hurt all over. I was clogged up with a painful case of constipation, which added to my misery. I had no choice but to agree with that inner voice, which now, I was beginning to fear.

We were dirt-poor, as was not uncommon among single black female-headed households in the 1940’s. We lived in what were called the ‘projects’- a place others called a ghetto. I didn’t know it was a ghetto. All I knew is that my mother said it was ‘experimental’ housing for a selected group of low-income families. I thought life was good compared to some of the other places we had lived. What mattered now was, there I was, poor, black and dying, at the tender age of seven.

Today I live with few of the complications of severe, untreated Scarlet Fever. Nevertheless, this was fast becoming one of the scariest episodes of my life. I have experienced what I believe to be more than my fair share of discomfort, but thanks to the strong will of my Mother and what I’ve learned from those inner voices I started hearing as a child, I can share this story of determination and survival.

My Mother allowed me to stay home from school. She knew I was very ill. She knew, too, that I hated missing school. Also, she believed her own eyes.  I looked horrible - like ‘death eating soda crackers, riding a starved horse through the desert’- as she would say later.  However, we had no insurance and no money, therefore, proper treatment was slow to be provided.  By the time I got admitted to St. Vincent’s Children’s Hospital charity ward, the illness had pretty much taken over. Severe fever drained my young body. I was immediately placed into Intensive Care. By now, I was crying, bordering delirium and feeling quite hopeless.  

I started slipping into a coma less than one hour after being admitted. In my final moments of consciousness I sensed my mother’s warm hands caressing my shivering body.  I felt her hot tears on my cold face mingling with my own tears. I heard her voice penetrating the dark mist closing in around me, as she said, “Hold on baby, the doctor is on his way, everything will be just fine, you’ll see.” Through her sobbing I could feel the confidence in her voice as she said, “My prayers will be answered”. At that instant, the most amazing experience of my young life began taking shape. 

My little inner voice transmuted into a visible humanoid form, which appeared in front of me. The form was female. It seemed to glide away from my body through the enveloping mist.  Almost immediately, a second form became visible to my minds’ eye.  I watched that form, which appeared to be male, exit my body. I became aware of a dialogue going on between the two forms on the subject of “Life and Death”. The female form I now call “Wisdom” talked about ‘life’ and how to win. It talked about the many opportunities that awaited me. All I had to do was face this and every other potential obstacle in life with courage, determination and faith. If I did, I could win tonight and in life, no matter what! It said that things are not always what they seem and life is full of challenges, which are opportunities to grow and develop into a stronger person.

All the while, the male form, I now call “Fear” was adamant that I should yield to the sickness that was already in control and draining my life force.  Besides, I was just a poor black kid in the ghetto and as good as dead already, so why bother? The male form was saying that any future life for me couldn’t possibly be of much value considering conditions in the world I lived in.

Together, the combatants ascended to a corner near the ceiling where they had a clear view of everything going on in the room below.  I should say that we had a clear view, because some part of me, along with the two forms, Wisdom and Fear, ascended and observed the on-going proceedings.

I saw myself in that hospital bed, pale like a ghost; shivering, like I was laying on an iceberg, and at the same time perspiring as if I had been running in a marathon on a murky summer day in Georgia. I saw my mother, prostrate, crying and covering me to keep my body from freezing.

Within a few minutes two doctors entered, followed by a tired-looking nurse. She pushed a shiny cart, loaded with strange-looking hospital stuff.  My mother was still crying as the tired-looking nurse sighed deeply and politely helped her into a chair away from my bedside. Mom dropped her head into one of those little laced-trimmed handkerchiefs she always kept in her purse. All the while her body heaved as her sobbing intensified.  I watched all of this, fascinated, while the medical team began working on me. I had never been in a hospital before but I could remember having seen a doctor once. I had the Whooping Cough a few years back, but otherwise, I had never been sick a day in my life, until now. Here I am, I was thinking, in a life or death crisis, for which I am not ready. I thought, “Are we ever”?

The dialog between the two voice forms, Wisdom and Fear, continued, each with diametrically opposed points of view about my life or my impending death. Wisdom repeated over and over, “Without courage you cannot win this, or any of life’s skirmishes!” I knew that I had to make a decision concerning my future, right there and now, and my choice would last for my lifetime. I felt that what I decided was more critical than what the doctors and nurse were doing. All the while they were busy doing their work; taking my pulse, temperature and blood pressure, putting an oxygen mask over my face, sticking needles in me which I could not feel, massaging my hands and feet. Wow! I watched all this in absolute amazement as the voices, now more animated, continued their debate. Finally, the male voice-form, speaking triumphantly said to the other, “You can leave now, he’s mine!” To which the female form responded, “All life is precious and valuable. This battle is not lost as long as he fights your influence. The boy must choose for

himself.”

I’m sharing my experience with this near death situation to illustrate that life is about making choices. My life is more than an out-of-body experience. It is what I think and say and do regarding the choices available to me. “Free Will” allows us to make a choice in every situation we encounter in life. It’s the same for all of us. We only need to listen to the voice(s) from within.

Growing older, I found myself becoming more and more curious, and less disturbed, about my childhood experiences with the “little voices” inside. No matter how I broached the subject, responses were pretty much the same. Most people laughed, some responded jokingly saying, “We are not alone”.  A few thought that I had been hallucinating at the time due to my being in a state of fever and going into shock. After years of inquiry, and study, I have arrived at my conclusion. We are “Mystic Entities”.  We are also “Triune Beings” comprised of mind, body and spirit, which equate to the physical- our body, mental – our mind, and spirit – the heart that directs the soul. It’s the same for each and every one of us.