Day 30 Entry
This morning, I sat for meditation, eager to get back on track with my vision of what I see and know is possible for me if I just fully commit to the process of growth.
A childhood memory crept up early in the sit. It was one with my mother. I was going to be with friends; she told me we would get balloons if I behaved. I was excited. We went to the balloon shop and I asked something, made a comment about having changed my mind or wanting something else, and she replied sharply:
“Enough! If you’re not content with this, you’ll have nothing at all!”
That gave me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I started to shrink inside: was I too much for speaking out what I wanted? Why did she sound so mean? As a kid, that experience told me asking for what I wanted wasn’t welcome. She was just getting it out of her — addicted to her own suffering and projecting misery onto me.
It was the clash of what she had been told as a child versus now. It was like in those movies where the robot’s eyes turn red and suddenly they become someone else. She repeated the script her own parents had drilled into her. I never saw my own field as “bad,” but it wasn’t solid land, so I ended up absorbing everyone’s unresolved crap. Like a sponge for other people’s projections.
Today I know I affect my environment, so I keep my field clean.
Later in the morning, another awareness opened. I realized people default to scripts — usually the ones they grew up on — if no stronger field is around to hold them. Back then, my presence had to learn independence. That became my reality. They were in it, and I didn’t yet know I was separate from their scripts.
I also saw how people like my mom, who fall for society’s games, get lost. They become masked people, but I could see through. When she would drop me off at my friend’s house and chat with the parents, it looked like casual talking, but I felt the energy. My friend’s mom was posturing, and my own mom didn’t see it. She was gullible, carrying her history of poverty, unaware that others sensed it and judged her for it.
Something in me connected the dots in real time. It felt like I spoke to her heart in a parallel dimension, warning her of that person’s true intention. A moment later, she suddenly said, “Oh, I’m gonna go now!” and left. Downstairs, my friend tried to dominate me in wrestling — the only way he knew how to prove manhood — while my presence remained unbothered, untethered to any identity he could pin down. Sometimes I swear I came from another planet.
This afternoon I sat again after training. It was okay — I slipped into sleep for most of it. Each time I heard people speaking, my body jolted awake. I remember feeling this same kind of reactivity at the very start of my meditation journey, back when I was still spilling a lot before sitting. Over time I’ve noticed that those reactive eruptions carry into meditation until my system stabilizes. Once the baseline evens out, the dosing off becomes less frequent and outside noises don’t jolt me as much.
I reminded myself I haven’t lost anything. I can still meditate and scan the body without sleep, it’s just that right now my system is in a recovery phase. The quick passing out is normal. The only thing that wavered was focus, mostly from the seed releases — my body is still catching up.
Closing Reflection
All of this feels like training awareness on multiple levels:
- As a child, I developed survival-level sensitivity — decoding intentions from footsteps, tones, and hidden energy, because facing unpredictable parents demanded it.
- As an adult, I now recognize that same hyper-attunement as a skill, no longer chained to survival. It becomes intuition, presence, and clarity.
- In meditation, even falling asleep is part of the practice. My nervous system is learning to rest and integrate, while my awareness trains to stay conscious through it.
Whether through old memories, strange “parallel” perceptions, or simple body jolts back into wakefulness, every sit is part of the same unfolding: learning to keep my field clear, steady, and sovereign.
