Learn or Remember? The Key is Your Choice to Be From the Editor, by Tim Miejan One day, some time ago, while on a walk through the woods with some friends, I fell behind the group and found myself alone. Beams of sunlight filtered in through the treetops. It was summer and the bugs were out. I sat down and seemingly drifted into a place that was neither familiar nor foreign. It seemed dark, like a void. A voice began to speak clearly in my mind. It wanted me to follow, to come to wherever the voice was speaking from. My first impulse was to resist, because in that instant I knew that if I followed, there would be no turning back; my experience on Earth would be nevermore. Barely aware of what I was doing, I soon got to my feet and found my friends walking ahead of me. To them, I had hardly been missed or gone for long. For me, I had been to the dark side of the moon and back. It is in the middle of the night and I am sleeping, dreaming. I am walking into a nearby coffeehouse where music and poetry fill the air. I stay until I sense that it is time to leave. It is dark outside. I walk around the block and enter the home of a friend without knocking. I walk downstairs to the basement family room. A family is watching television. I stand in the middle of the room -- and suddenly, my body is pushed across the room against the concrete wall. I hear loudly within my being, "You have the power." I sit up in bed in a start and wonder what in the world just happened. It is one of a number of dreams I have never forgotten. Many more unusual events have happened in my life, and I know I am not alone in that regard. Do you remember yours? A friend told me about some acquaintances of ours who were driving along a highway and experienced their car being lifted up under a space craft. It had not been the first contact for this couple. When they returned home after the trip, they found that a small sample had been taken from every single fabric and object in their home. I still feel a quickening in my body every time I think about it. The question for some is whether these events actually happened. Are they true? I like author Bob Frissell's response to that question with the title of his book: "Nothing in This Book Is True, But It's Exactly How Things Are." Others may probe with deeper questions by asking what they can learn about themselves from such experiences. Perhaps such events are a mirror by which you can more clearly see yourself. Perhaps they are dramatic examples you have called forth on some level of your being to help you remember that, indeed, you are a multidimensional, spiritual being who operates in this physical body simultaneously with other realms -- with the past, present and future occurring simultaneously in this now moment. It is said that we're not here to learn, but to remember who we are -- and who we aren't. It is said that we come here as a divine spark of God and increasingly lose remembrance of our true nature with each passing year. As if suffering from amnesia, we fight through the fog of forgetfulness. Alas, some people never restore their memories. Some awaken to the light of clear vision. Now serving as beacons of light, they experience the light of God and feel the warmth of unconditional love in their lives and go on to describe their path of awakening with others. Thousands, if not millions, of such stories have been shared, and every day they continue to take place. The question is: Are you ready to embark upon the path of remembrance? It's been said that you never stop learning, no matter how old you are. But to start remembering is another issue. It is a choice -- perhaps one of the greatest that you'll make in your lifetime. It takes courage. I am increasingly convinced that it doesn't take a lucid dream that prompts you to awaken suddenly in the night, or an alien encounter that has you questioning every facet of what you thought was real, to help you remember the truth about who you are. I think we often overlook keys to remembrance that occur in our everyday lives. For me, it is my son asking, "Can I have a hug?" when he senses that I am tight and rigid and angry at him. It is hard to drop my armor and embrace him, and I don't always do it. But when I do, it changes me in profound ways, and I become more aware that sharing love is perhaps the most powerful ways for me to experience who I am. Tim Miejan is editor of The EDGE. Contact him at (651) 578-8969 or email . Copyright (c) 2001 Tim Miejan