Perception and Perspective: Chapter Something By Melissa Ann Hardin

Chapter Something...

By Melissa Ann Hardin

The sharp coolness of the watch snapping on to my wrist contrasted sharply with the warmth of my overheated fresh from the shower skin. My thoughts were separated and pounding in my head. I liked the disjointed feeling. It allowed me to go deeper into my mind than I had previously allowed myself, willy nilly into the halls of my mind palace randomly memorizing each nook and cranny. I sat on the edge of my bed, holding my arms over my chest protectively in an attempt to stop the rapid pulse-pounding throbs of my heart that couldn’t seem to calm itself. In general, if I concentrate very hard, I can make my physical body do anything I consciously tell it to. For example, as a child I could run to the motherboard of my mind that’s behind the secret door of the library in my mind palace, flip a switch that I knew led directly to my inner core, and push it up a tiny degree to one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The exact temperature, not too hot, that would alarm my mother into letting me out of school that day. The better to be away from all the bullies and the boy with the heart-shaped eyes, who watched ever after me, and whose desire for me could burn the world down. So were my thoughts, my ever too aware of what real life looked like at thirteen thoughts. Too old of a mind to exist in so small of a body.

Today, my heart controlled itself, overwhelming all of me until I was at its mercy. I’m not too certain that I don’t sometimes cause myself more problems with my innate systems by trying to control them in this manner. It’s hard to express the processes I’m capable of directing using only my mental energies. However, without it my mind would be a disorganized mess. Hence, my mind palace I created, where I can escape for a moments respite to get my PTSD and emotions under control so that I don’t lose control of the pain that tends to come out as a response to stress, and cause problems in my relationships with others. Within those private recesses I can sit before a waterfall on a terrace that overlooks the beauties of nature, I’ve forever captured in my minds eye. The peaceful valleys and gardens below that stretch as far reaching as the Lords Eden. The sky above reflecting the uneven planes beneath into the shapes of the clouds racing over the land in a spectacular fashion. There’s also an indoor pool and a lazy river besides that I can sometimes relax in, with or without chosen company, with a glass paned ceiling I can view the multi-hued magic of the sky above me and play in any rainbows that might shine upon the waters surrounding me. Beside the pool room there’s a bedchamber fit for a queen and her king, with of course a master bath attached. Through the double doors and down the hall there’s a nursery and a memory room of all my happiest memories as a mother to my children. The hall though is nearly an endless expanse of doorways and stairways leading to other levels. The doors are made of either wood, stone, or a few of steel with a combination lock to lock away the horrors of my lifetime I’ve experienced, unfortunately, and I call those my PTSD rooms, each room depending on which traumatic event they comprise of. I try to avoid revisiting them at all costs these days. I’ll have to explain the contents within but not with any real enthusiasm to have to relive any of those moments of terror. The other doors are well organized as well, an office of file rooms where the boxes of financial, mundane, creative, or sentimental are nearly eidetically present. At the topmost level, there’s a glowing room though that exists as well and within it I can access a secret gift bestowed upon me through genealogical inheritance and with the Lord’s blessing. I can heal myself there, sometimes others if it’s the Lord’s will, including animals. Sounds insane but around here they call it hill magic. It has nothing to do with witchcraft, rather an ageless knowledge of faith and belief spoken of in old and new religions. Primarily of druidic origin, a power bestowed upon kings of old, if my understanding is correct. I tell no one, because who would ever believe such a thing possible in this age of scientific reasoning? I see auras too, a light of the soul. It shows me if an illness is present such as the disgusting phlegm color that surrounds those with cancer. There’s little I can do to help with that. In order to do so I have to harm a bit of myself by taking it from them or draining my energy to a point where I will take on the symptoms of the illness. My physical body can’t withstand that, so I’ve learned though it pains me, no healing can be given, and prayers are the best I can offer. Those are the moments I seek the Lord’s wisdom for its through him I have received such blessings. The glowing room I call that because of the sheer immensity of heavens light that shines around the cracks. I suppose it also allows me to encounter spirits at times, but it also attracts demonic forces that long for heaven’s peace. I think the glow leaks out sometimes as I sleep. Those are the times I experience clairvoyance of my future in premonitions. Telepathy? Sometimes. ESP? Sometimes. Psychic ability? Who knows…If you, my reader, figures out the answer to that let me know, cause it’s an answer I’ve been searching for my whole life. Through the connecting door I can also be with my soul mate at all times, both sleeping and awake, his being resides within as mine does with his. We can communicate with one another silently or aloud, feel one another’s pains both emotional and physical, and sometimes see through one another to our present surroundings with all six senses That’s another unexplained blessing that only the Lord and his angels understand. I’ve learned it’s better not to ask of the origin but to simply accept the blessing of never being alone. At least it proves I’m not crazy cause he knows me better than any on earth. I can heal him of slight illness, and even give him my own energy to help him stay aware as his job is a dangerous profession. Other people have spoken of such gifts bestowed upon them through their faith and that’s the best I can explain the totality of the glowing room. It is a connection to Heaven.

I have a “just miffed” room I go into sometimes if I get upset like any other woman in instances of our relationship. It’s difficult cause we can’t really stay mad at each other, and he’s figured out how to access that room, with or without my consent because he doesn’t want me to be upset at him. Call it the making up room if you want cause that’s where miscommunications and accidental hurts and problems that might separate us can be healed, physically and emotionally. It’s a pretty active room these days. We’d prefer it to stay private and just between us but when we’re both together this way it’s a power unmatched in the world, and we both can feel if that privacy is being intruded upon by something undefined. We are somewhat of a miracle, an unexplained light in an overwhelming darkness, and we are patiently waiting to discover one another away from the recesses of that room.

I can open or close all the doors at will or slam them to prevent any access to my innermost being. Without that protection, my mind would have split long ago in the chaos of the ludicrous amount of memory and spatial awareness that resides in my mind. Such is my mind palace. There’s an alcove and a doorway that leads to a courtyard and a moat with a drawbridge in the truest sense of a castle that it represents. I also have a dungeon, but I’ll discuss why that exists later.

Comments