“At first you are with everyone in the everywhen. Then the companion comes and you become extremely excited when you see the companion because you can tell something is going to happen. You start to spin. And the spinning becomes a tunnel of souls. And you traverse the tunnel of souls and as you do, you are acquiring a unique relationship to every soul and moment, by the way you are making and traveling through the thunder tunnel.

And it is singing, and the singing is changing.

Then the companion gives you the tiny light. The tiny light is impossible. It is structures of endless antiquity. Structures of intelligence and prodigy and heroism. Structures of seeing and measurement. Ways of making ways that are alive as yourself. And you swallow the tiny light and as you do it begins to grow and warp time so that you can enter into a portion of time.

From that moment forward, there is a pulsing. And it pushes you back and forth, back and forth, forcefully and exquisitely as the companion is starting to become more distant. The tiny light has become stretched, into an intelligent thread and the thread is like a pet and a sibling and a playmate. The companion is connected to you across the thread and you begin to forget everything then.

You are pulsing. Like a little dreaming fish on a spirit-leash. You and the companion are unified across the living thread.

The thread starts making shapes of loops in structures that modulate in synchrony with the pulse. These meaningful geometries are primordial structures upon which your birth-mind will be founded.

And the light goes deep inside you to become dreams. You are a curling force that will become bouncy soon. For now, you are curled in dreams until you emerge. Drinking and storing nourishment. Developing. Preparing to be born.

Then, you will see the tiny light you swallowed again.

They call it the sun.

And by the time you can say this, you will no longer remember it consciously. Unconsciously, perhaps. But even that memory is not so much a record of events as it is the shape of their impressions upon an aspect of your mind. If you manage to step outside of the culture of your birth-people entirely, you will get a glimpse of these matters. A beautiful, confusing, numinous glimpse. And even this will be as being struck by lightning…”

— an anonymous informant