The Shattered Prayer

Yeah, I was supposed to be writing my paranormal experiences for the blogathon, but around midnight my mind deserted me. I couldn’t remember what had happened the day before, much less years ago.

I’ve had a few out-of-body experiences, for lack of a better term, in my life. My earliest ones were by accident, though later I developed a method involving large amounts of opiates combined with a creative visualisation. I don’t do that one anymore, though I am presently working on perfecting the creative visualisation method, without the opiates.

My early memories of levitating may actually have been short out-of-body stints, I don’t know. But my earliest OOB experience that feels like an OOB happened in my teens, right around the time I was experiencing poltergeist phenomena.

I was lying in my bedroom, napping on a hot afternoon. Sleep was restless because of the extreme heat. My bedroom was just off the kitchen, and I could smell food cooking. I remember wondering what my mother was cooking so I got up, went into the kitchen.

“Oh, its bacon”, I thought to myself. Obviously we would be having bacon sandwiches for lunch.

My grandmother was sitting at the breakfast table and they seemed to be discussing me. Which pissed me off since they were talking about me and hadn’t even acknowledged my presence. I stalked back into my room and thats when I realised I hadn’t taken all of me into the kitchen. The realisation snapped me back into my body and I jolted upright.

I got up (body and all) and walked back into the kitchen, where my mother was indeed cooking bacon and my grandmother was sitting at the breakfast table, right where I’d seen her moments before. They went quiet when I walked into the room - as if they’d been talking about me.

It wasn’t a lengthy or dramatic OOB by any means, but if I learned a lesson from it, its that nothing’ll get me out of my body faster than the smell of food.

Stay tuned for more articles in the “The Stuff that didn’t make it into the Blogathon” series.

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