A Mystical Call to Oneness

A true story:

There used to be a small pink chandelier hanging in the center of my youngest daughter's bedroom...

One night back in 2003, when Kaylin was five years old, she had just been tucked in for the night when my wife discovered that the night light bulb was burned out and that there wasn't a replacement bulb in the house. Well, given that Kaylin was afraid of the dark, we suddenly found ourselves with a bit of a situation until my wife found that by adjusting the dimmer switch on Kaylin's chandelier to its lowest setting, from Kaylin's perspective, an acceptable glow of light illuminated her room. And so it was that an uneventful year of bedtimes went by while we relied upon Kaylin's small pink chandelier to perform extra-duty as a nightlight. And all was well during the night - that is, until the night of January 14, 2004.

It was the middle of the night and Nola and I were sleeping soundly when Kaylin suddenly called out from her bedroom, "Daaaaaddy?!" A few moments later, standing beside Kaylin's bed, I was informed that the reason for such distress was a bad dream.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't want to talk about it" she replied, followed by the sweetest little request: "Will you lie down with me?"

Although I don't remember doing so, I clearly obliged because I woke up some time later in Kaylin's bed. The only problem was, I had no idea where I was. We had moved three times over the past eight years (having only been in the current house for less than a year) so perhaps a sudden case of amnesia was justified. Nevertheless, within a matter of seconds, what started as amnesia progressed into a full-blown panic attack like nothing I had ever experienced. For lack of a better description, my head felt like it was going to explode. And even though it only lasted for a few seconds, it felt as if an eternity had passed before I suddenly remembered waking up earlier in the night to the sound of Kaylin's calls and going to her room. I'm in Kaylin's bed, I realized, feeling the most amazingly indescribable relief I had ever felt in my entire 43 years. Unfortunately, though, the relief was short-lived because no sooner did I experience it, I found myself suddenly overwhelmed by extreme paranoia: If I'm in Kaylin's bed then where is Kaylin? My heart skipped several beats while the paranoia quickly intensified: Oh my God. I've accidentally smothered my daughter in my sleep. Expecting the worst, I was only partially relieved to discover my sweet little child laying in the bed beside me. Is she breathing? My fears weren't allayed until I leaned in close enough to see that she was indeed breathing. Okay. Okay. Everything is okay, I reassured myself as I rolled back onto my back and looked around the room for a second time. How strange that I had looked around moments earlier and hadn't recognized a thing. Of course, now that the amnesia had passed, as I glanced around the room I recognized every little detail without the least bit of difficulty: the bookshelves, the pictures on the wall, the stuffed animals, the chandelier. My eyes settled on the chandelier -- its five little bulbs dimly twinkling in the darkness. I knew exactly what I was looking at however there was something strangely familiar about the alignment of the bulbs. What is it? I wondered as I stared for the longest time before a sudden shift in perception revealed the solution to my quandary: the twinkling bulbs formed the outline of a human body with individual points of light at the head, the hands and the feet. It was a beautiful sight to behold. And it came with a remarkable feeling of euphoria, and a sense of certainty that the sweet little constellation I was gazing upon was universally recognized as a symbol of humanity. I didn't doubt or question the veracity of the information. I simply got up, returned to my room, and crawled into bed beside my sleeping wife. How incredibly blessed I felt for having had such an amazing experience. And I fell asleep. At least I think I did until I suddenly heard my daughter screaming in terror.

"DADDY!!!"

How long I had been sleeping, I had no idea. The intensity and urgency of the scream was horrific. It ripped me from my slumber and propelled me down the hall to Kaylin's bedroom doorway whereupon I found myself greeted by stone-cold silence. Was it all in my head? Peering into the silent darkness, I was almost convinced of this.

"What's the matter?" I asked, ever-so-quietly, just in case the terror I heard was nothing but my own dream.

From the darkness came an equally quiet answer. "My night light is off," I heard in the sweetest, calmest voice.

How strange? How could Kaylin have shrieked for her life in one moment, only to calmly speak in the next? Although these were my thoughts, I never had a chance to voice them because just as I was wondering this, I suddenly clued in to the fact that Kaylin's room was indeed pitch black. So instead of speaking, I instinctively reached inside the door frame for the chandelier's on-off switch and pressed it. I heard a 'click' but the room remained in darkness. I immediately pressed the switch again and unlike the first time, when I heard a "click' the chandelier immediately came on. How strange? Having now clicked the button twice, it suddenly occurred to me that the chandelier had somehow gone out and stayed out, even though the switch had definitely been left  in the "on" position. In other words, I hadn't absent-midedly turned off the light when I left my daughter's bedroom earlier in the night. Needless to say, I was puzzled by this. Not only had this never happened before (and never since, I might add), but even in black-outs, and there had been a few, the chandelier always came back on as soon as the power was restored. So, whatever happened on the night of January 14, 2004, was an anomaly. And there was nothing to be done about it either other than to accept it as a strange occurrance (which I did) as I crawled back into bed beside my daughter for the second time that night. I knew it wouldn't be long before she would be back asleep, so I layed there and gazed once again at that beautiful floating symbol of humanity. And that's when the penny suddenly dropped: my daughter had been screaming in terror because the lights had gone out on humanity. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks while a wave of chills ran mercilessly up and down my spine.

*****

An interesting side note:

For the first five years of Kaylin's life, my work hours were consistently long, erratic and unpredictable - thus, Kaylin learned at an early age that "Mommy" was the one parent who could always be relied upon to respond to her calls in the night. That said, by January of 2004, Kaylin was well-accustomed to waking up in the night and going to the bathroom. The only problem was, Kaylin was afraid of the dark - even with the night-light on she needed an escort. Thus, for several years, Nola had always been the one to respond to Kaylin's nightly calls for "Mommy." In fact, it was only on the rarest of occasions when Nola was too tired to get up, that Nola would nudge me and ask if I could take Kaylin to the bathroom. That said, what was it on this one particular night that caused Kaylin to suddenly call out twice for "Daddy?" Furthermore, given the history I've just described, how was it possible that Nola managed to sleep soundly through both a call and a scream for help? Never once had Nola ever slept through a call for "Mommy." Never. And oddly enough, in the days and weeks that followed, Kaylin immediately returned to her regular practice of calling out for "Mommy."

*****

Okay. So what does it all mean?

As far as my understanding at the time was concerned, the experience of January 14 told me I wasn't alone, I was on the right track, and the part about the lights going out on humanity seemed to suggest a sense of urgency. Beyond that, I hadn't a clue. I had been working for several years to align my intentions with love and to master the negativity that I felt had mastered me for much of my life. So January 14 was looked upon as a physical form of confirmation and encouragement as opposed to the kind I often "received" with words. Also, as far as the timing was concerned, I had just barely recovered from a traumatic experience I had suffered a week earlier. And in the wake of this traumatic experience, January 14 was looked upon as a beautiful gift. (11/02/06)

Note: My avatar is one of the symbols I was inspired to create as a direct result of this experience -- five races of humankind (red, white, brown, black, yellow) all interconnected, all sharing one heart. I came up with this design in the morning that immediately followed the nightlight incident. And I must say, at the time I was quite literally possessed to find some sort of symbolic representation that best captured what I had seen and felt in that "constellation of humanity". After many attempts, the symbol you see below was the one that finally put  my heart at ease -- One planet, One people, One purpose -- Humankind -- yes, bolded to remind us all of the virtue of kindness!